Slip of the hand – Like a rickety column of dominos it took very little to set them all off, just one little slip of the hand.
Author's Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, and truthfully, I haven't even completed it! Like a friend of mine I really love this couple. I was a little tired of the lack of really long fanfiction. Long ones make me really happy xD. ; So don't tear my head off. I'll be rating this mature because I do plan to have mature graphic chapters. This is an OLDER Sakura not Young 13-16 year old, eww, no. No in this story Sakura is 22 years old at most.
I know that Kakashi is no longer ANBU. : Blargh.
Please leave comments, this is my first fanfic ever that I'm desperately trying to complete. And yes, a lemon to boot. I'm so tasteless. D:
I don't have a beta so there will likely be mistakes as I am very lazy about writing.
Edit: D: Fixing spacing. It's a little strange, this site. I apologize. TT
Chapter Rating: Mild contact.
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It had all started after a fated visit to the hospital, after an unfortunate ANBU mission to the fire nation. It had all started weeks prior during said mission that, upon passing through a secluded river side village, the team contracted a virus while stocking up on supplies. After coming in contact with the infected locals the team's health declined drastically within the first hour of their departure. Not a day into their official mission were they already dancing dangerously on defeat. The added weight of the sickness, and the rain, made for deadly conditions that they could scarcely come out of unharmed. In a whirlwind of aches and pains, not totally related to the long journey the team had stopped momentarily to rest. Fevers were breaking out amongst the small groups, vision hazy beneath their painted masks that had become entirely bothersome in their unfit state.
Kakashi could recall arguing with a fellow operative that there was no way to head back now when they were so close to their objective. The caravan would be arriving in the next day and they were right on schedule. Traps were set, albeit clumsily, and they were prepared. The copy ninja, as expected, had anticipated being ambushed and sprung into action. What he had not anticipated was chasing the enemy straight into a trick wire trap. Fortunately for him the explosion was mild, the shrapnel instead lodging into his replacement, and less seriously in his shoulders and thigh. Luckily an operative in a hushed bird mask pulled him down in time. In the end they completed their mission, completely worn down. The trip back to Konoha was laden with disaster. By the time they reached the village, two days late, their fevers were raging, dehydrated by their lack of desire to drink and eat, a little confused, but no less happy to be home. However, not moments before reaching the gate did their esteemed leader crashed; the infamous copy ninja unconscious and raging with fever was taken directly to the hospital for immediate care.
He awoke day's later still in uniform, lying flat on his back beneath a thin cotton sheet. The texture felt cheap and scratchy, he knew exactly where he was even before the detestable scent of disinfectant and bleach reached his conscious senses. His brow furrowed, why was he lying in a sick bed instead of his own bed back home, avoiding Tsunade's requests to turn in his reports, or Gai's constant pestering to join him for a few drinks around the block. Lately it seemed he was being invited around for everything. If it wasn't for a stroll around the bar from Genma and Gai, it was a request to get ramen with Naruto, or to come around for dinner. Perhaps he was paranoid, but Kakashi got the sinking impression that others found his lonesome state at his age unacceptable and deemed it their responsibility to make sure he had enough contact and support to get him through his difficult time.
With a sigh he sunk back into the less than comfortable hospital mattress and stared at the depressing white washed walls and the dim light coming through the faded curtains. It was uncomfortable at best, but he'd been through much worse. It was an emotional haven, no screaming Gai, or loud mouthed brats. Not that Naruto was a brat; he had grown up in the years he'd known the young Shinobi. Twenty-two years of age, an adult. Running a bandaged hand through his stark grey hair, ruffling the nest and upsetting his hitate. His fingers slipped deftly beneath the offending headgear and rubbed his sharingan. Despite the hospital being a quite reprieve, he was dreadfully bored, and groped his upper body and pockets looking for the correct placement of his favorite volume of icha icha tactics he had brought along on the mission. However due to his unfortunate illness, and the rain, he had not found time to read it. When he did not find the book on his person he lazily draped a hand over the side of the bed, fingertips falling on a small end table, stumbling over the edge onto something smooth and soft, up and over, gracelessly cupping what he thought at first to be a firm pillow and giving it a delicate squeeze. A resounding crack to the side of his skull told him that he had just likely felt up his nurse.
Cradling his injury in both arms he awkwardly sat up and felt about the area, it was quite tender. He looked over sheepishly, apologizing profusely, expecting her to storm away, or hit him again, but he did not see in front of him a faceless victim, a helpless nurse, what he saw was something, someone, he hadn't seen in months. Hissing mad like a cat, bright emerald orbs seething. Soft high cheeks stained deep red, angry lips moving quickly emitting a high pitched frequency previously thought to be heard only by canines. It wasn't until the young woman stood in a flurry of pink and white raising a clipboard high above her head and pummeling the poor man until he spoke, cover his face and fighting for some semblance of control. He sang her name out nervously, fingers fumbling for a grip around her wild hands and wrists.
"Sakura Sakura, I'm so sorry, I was merely looking for my book. Do you have any idea where it is?"
The girl, impossibly angry still, glared fiercely at her former sensei before clenching her teeth and reaching into her pocket roughly, fishing for something before she pulled out the small novel. It was a little beat around the edges, no doubt because of the rain, but he accepted it gingerly and held it flaccidly at his knees giving his former student a crinkle eyed smile. It was devastatingly charming, and Sakura could not hate the man for long. Still annoyed she made sure that she was brutal in testing his reflexes, which he succumbed to with a guilty grin. When she took his temperature he sighed in relief at the beeping and the look of pride in his student's eyes.
"Groping aside, it would appear you are good as new, perhaps better." Sliding her pen into her extensive pockets, she let her arms slip to her sides, the clipboard bouncing against her hips.
When she didn't move, and continued smiling innocently at his bed Kakashi couldn't ignore it any longer and ventured a peek up.
"Yes?" He asked warily, knowing that look. She wanted a favor, and he could only imagine why.
His hand slipped into his hair again and he gave a breathy sigh. "What do you want, Sakura?" His former student chuckled before sitting once more in the chair that had been upturned in her struggle to kill him only moments ago. Now back on its legs she leaned forward and smiled once more.
"I've just missed you, my favorite Kakashi-Sensei."
Kakashi grinned beneath his mask, giving the girl, no, woman a pat on the head. He stupidly answered
"I'm your only Kakashi-Sensei" before he could put a stop to it.
Why was he treating her like she was twelve years old? She was a full grown woman now. However, despite all this he could not help but feel she was years and years younger. Untouched by certain degrees of grief that would turn that youthful expression to stone, and those brilliant gems to dull lifeless rocks. He was interrupted in his thoughts by the same girl in front of him, now leaning back into her chair, crossing her ankles and placing his clipboard in her lap.
"I was thinking," She began, "We haven't done anything together in a long time. Perhaps after work…"
Kakashi stopped her before she could ask anymore. He had just gotten back after an excruciating ordeal, all he wanted was to go home and enjoy a day of sleeping in before he was pulled away for another mission.
"I don't think that would be such a good idea, Sakura." He annunciated with her name, silently amending this to mean no was final. But Sakura never gave up, her complacent expression switched out for an instantaneous scowl. Her arms crossed, ankles bobbed along her knee in mock exasperation.
"So you get a free squeeze and I don't even get dinner?"
Kakashi's nervous chuckle was cut short by the room door bursting open, a wind tussled Naruto half walking, half jogging into the room to his Sensei's bed. He looked relieved to see him letting out a low whistle. As long as the copy Nin was holding one of his ridiculous books, it was deemed that he was healthy enough to not warrant any worry. The blonde man sunk into the bed and slapped his knees, looking to Sakura in mock seriousness.
"Will he be discharged today?" Sakura leaned back in her chair and sighed. She didn't know what to tell him, it was difficult to say, but gauged her Sensei's reaction who looked absolutely horrified at the idea of having to sit with Naruto while he devoured several bowls of ramen, then to be subjected to a night of drinking at the bar.
"Yes, I see no reason to keep him, he's completely healthy." She flipped through the thick pages quickly before letting them fall. Naruto let out a whoop and jumped to his feet before declaring his hankering for a bowl of Ichiraku's weekly special. Kakashi, who grew to hate Ramen and warm sake in the last several months, visibly despaired. Sakura noticed at once, and wanting her compensation and to save her Sensei, she spoke up above the hoopla.
"Except we made plans, isn't that right?"
Kakashi sighed, pocketing his book. He was clearly not getting any of the privacy he desired, now or later it seemed. The two bickered for a bit about noise levels and open windows despite the only window in the room being firmly closed. He wondered, sitting there with his hands in his lap, what the weather was like. Was it still warm and humid like when he returned? Or had a chill come in? Further more, how long had he been out? Sakura hadn't said anything; she merely blocked his nightstand with her chest resulting in a rather awkward situation. Kakashi looked down into the palms of his hands and gave the air a soft squeeze, his lazy eye staring intently at the space between. She had certainly filled out in recent years; his lingering absence had created in his mind's eye a never changing figure, constant and ever lasting. To see her fully grown and no longer a sixteen year old girl was slightly more devastating than he would have liked to think.
Naruto, ever the gentleman, stopped their conversation to look at his sighing sensei. Figuring something to be wrong with the man's hands the boy looked down at his preoccupied friend and then to Sakura who was slowly working her ways around the bases. Kakashi somewhere in the back of his conscious registered Naruto asking him whether or not his hand hurt. Receiving nothing but a late smile from the one eyed shinobi, he dropped the question, and instead fixing his attention on their female companion who was rising from her chair. Beating down her long white coat Sakura scribbled something along the bottom of the board and began to walk out.
"Consider yourself released, I know you don't like hospitals, but I'd like you to come in for a check up sometime during the week." She knew he wouldn't
"We have no idea what you've contracted so I'm not sure we've completely cured it." Not that he cares.
"Your fever has become less serious but you might still have symptoms. Weakness, cough, nausea, you name it. I hate to discharge you this early you know, but we need all beds we can get."
Kakashi and Naruto joined Sakura in leaving the small curtained room leading to the entrance. The moment they entered the waiting room dozens of bleary eyes looked up at them. Tissues and cool compresses were pressed against the faces of shivering children, all clearly carrying symptoms of the virus Kakashi's team brought in. Sakura looked at the older Ninja and frowned.
"It's highly contagious, and we have no vaccine. It's a miracle I've lasted this long, granted it's only been a day or two, but Shizune's already sniffling and Tsunade hasn't left her office." The pair looked to Naruto, who would no doubt catch it as well. With a few parting words the trio left each other's company, but not without Sakura shouting orders for Kakashi to meet her back in the waiting room in five hours after she completed her shift.
Once outside Kakashi had full intention of going home to sleep off his remaining lethargy in the comfort of his own sheets and pillows instead of the dry pasty linen that covered his previously occupied hospital bed. Scratching the back of his head he made his way down the steps and entered the fairly empty streets of Konoha. Momentarily forgetting he was still in uniform he reached on reflex to the pocket at his hip for his book. Only when he caught his reflection in a shop's window did he set off for home in a quick fashion. Once in proximity of his apartment he slowed to a crawl to give himself time to think. Gai was no doubt outside his door waiting to ambush him. Such a greeting could be put off, the familiar chakra signals beating at him like secondary hearts. Naruto was already off in the other direction making Kakashi incredibly happy even if his weary expression didn't show it. The familiar sight of the pealed yellow building brought a flood of warmth to his being and a spring in his lazy step.
With the energy of a man twice his age he climbed the aged steps, careful of the third floor landing and the conspicuously hidden hole just inches from the last step. A notice was posted to his door, mentioning wet paint. It was weeks old but thanks to it he did notice that his door was a lovely shade of pearl, now matching the hall's interior. With a crinkled smile he unlocked his door and walked into the sauna that was his living space. If only they spent as much time on the outside as they did the inside. Kakashi thought to himself with glee, falling face forward into his bed. A thin cloud of dust erupted around him as he rolled onto his side to breath. Perhaps he should have taken Naruto up on his offer to 'water his plants'.
With his mind free to wander, and there being very little to wander over, Kakashi began to run through the afternoon one more time. It had been pleasant to bask in the company of his former students despite their annoying quirks and noise levels. It had reminded him of their time together years ago as team seven. No amount of separate tutelage could dissuade them from their old ways. It was refreshing, and nostalgic in the worst way possible. Rolling to his back he folded his hands along his stomach pausing to heave a deep sigh. However they were different. More mature, experienced, and something he couldn't put his finger on. Perhaps it had been due to his close brush with death that he suddenly found himself walking down memory lane.
Disrobing he mused on past years, until he was fully dressed in his standard flak vest and long sleeved attire bounding from roof to roof in hopes to reach the Memorial before sundown. It was there he spent the remaining daylight speaking with his old friend until it became impossible to adequately judge the distance from his face to the ground, a stunning feat for the yet feverish jonin. New moon, he thought to himself, excellent conditions for hiding, but he was grateful nothing leapt out at him on his way home. On one particular roof he could spot the hospital, just minutes away from his own home. It was no doubt after the time Sakura had specified for him to meet her, but he couldn't help but feel obligated to show up anyway.
He felt immediately guilty as a shock of pink hair came into view just inside the double doors of the waiting room. Shoulders slumped forward and an excuse in hand he silently pushed them back to walk inside. He was met by the same horde of misery, watching Sakura as she turned to face him. Instead of anger he was met with an expression of utter exhaustion. Words began to fall from her pale lips falling on dead ears. The young medic straightened her back, a light cracking noise dissipating the silence as she made her way to his slouched form in the doorway.
"I'm sorry, I was supposed to get off hours ago but the nurses are dropping like flies and there aren't enough on call medics to take care of the night shift. A few of us have stayed behind to assist the incoming patients, but there just isn't enough help and more are arriving by the hour."
Kakashi did notice an increase in patients.
"I'm thinking Tsunade would really like a word with you on where you picked this up. That is, if she gets over it herself." Sakura joked, running a hand through her sweat dampened hair.
He could see the fatigue in her eyes; if she had his opinion he would say she looked worse than anyone in the building. With a kind smile he ruffled her hair affectionately, she was a hard worker. However, something happened that had never happened before. Strands of pink hair wound around a metal catch in his fingerless gloves that bound his hand in place. They shared a sheepish laugh as her fingers brushed his now and then to unravel the worsening mess. Sakura's humored voice rang out over the quiet alcove
"I hope your hands are clean, Kakashi-Sensei" His single dark hooded gaze fixated on the small woman in front of him, an awkward silence filtering in.
"I'm no longer your Sensei, Sakura" His hands stilled, eyes and mind captured by a morbid curiosity as he watched her hands move diligently to completely free herself, every sway of her upper body in hopes to stay on her feet and movement brought a waft of something unfamiliar; the heavy odor of disinfectant medicine and flora., sadly reminiscent of a funeral home. With a dignified tug she was free allowing both their arms to flop like dead things to their hips. Sakura merely smiled much like their favorite kyubi while rubbing her head soothingly.
"Well I can't just call you 'Kakashi', we're not exactly friends. Besides, it's more of a habit" She rationalized, not feeling their conversation was anything more than a relief from her busy work load.
Kakashi never felt much loneliness in the past; it wasn't exactly something he could afford to dwell on as a ninja. After his friends left this world, he vowed to never do to someone what their deaths did to them. Unfortunately his work as Team Seven's sensei had flung all that nonsense out the window. Numerous deadly situations had made him feel more like a responsible parent than anything. Learning to take complete care of his students in combat had greatly disrupted his comfort on the battle field. However he missed the attachment, though he would never admit it, he secretly enjoyed eating out with the hyperactive Naruto, and Sakura's fussing. He never knew it until he continued his off-and-on-again work as ANBU once more.
There you worked with complete strangers, looking out for you alone, and never risking anything if it jeopardized the mission. However, the absence from this way of life made the hole in his life grow ever larger. They had been cooperative group of skilled professions, but that's all they ever would be to him, and he them. Just sitting in the hospital that afternoon had been incredibly encouraging, there just wasn't anyway to say so without embarrassing himself to no end. At the time he had blamed it on Gai and Genma for spoiling him before and after missions with trips to the bar, and the afternoons spent at Ichiraku's with Naruto.
So, if he had never felt any of that loneliness, why did it feel as though his insides had just fallen out of his body? His eye opened in shock before closing in a characteristic crinkle. But ah, he did not blame her for saying so. It was true, unfortunate as it was, he had never taken the time to get to know her while she was young, or even as she grew. How much had changed? Did she still live in the same house? Or did she move out? Surely she couldn't still be living with her family; that would be downright silly.
"I have faith in you, Sakura; it's just something you have to work on."
"Yes," she agreed with a weary smile "and fortunately we have time ahead of us to do so."
"Pardon?" He asked; his slouch stiffening.
"Well," she started with a warm smile that he knew would melt his resolve in seconds, "we will have to reschedule our dinner date. It seems I won't be leaving the hospital for…who knows."
So she hadn't forgotten. For a moment the copy Nin had been hopeful that Sakura would forget the entire thing and call it all off. Though as serious as she was about her work, she was equally serious about free meals as well. He grinned internally at the thought, but as they stood awkward facing one another he had a chance to finally look at her. Call it morbid curiosity (and for the next few weeks he would be) but he was deeply interested in her maturation. How long had it truly been since he last saw her? How many times had he asked himself that that afternoon? His thoughts were broken by her abrupt farewell, describing a child with a serious rash along his backside that wasn't going to clear up by itself. He nodded in understanding, lifting a hand to ruffle her hair only to hesitate, instead opting for a light wave as she retreated back to the main seating room, shuffling through charts along the wall.
Kakashi let himself out, greeted by a cool night breeze. He would be leaving his window partially open that night to take full advantage of the light weather. He wasn't yet halfway down the street before he was accosted by Genma, flanked on both sides by two beautiful women both equally pink in the cheeks. Their clothes were askew in a manner that did not require any questioning. It was clear his dear friend was heading home from the bar, with quite the hall to boot. Unfortunately for Kakashi he was spotted immediately. Genma made his way over to the slouched figure, fingers buried partially in his pocket. Was the world against him reading his beloved books today? It would seem so. Largely in part hoisted by his female companions, Genma slurred something that sounded halfway between a welcome and a greeting, his senbon dangling precariously from his lower lip. One of the women propped her head on Genma's shoulder and directed her attention to the masked Nin in front of her.
"Are you an old man?" She asked with a laugh.
Genma began to lead the pair around the now stunned man, now running a self conscious hand through his tangled mess of hair. That sort of comment never made him react ever. It was a fact he grew up, his hair had always been that color. It wasn't a matter of age. And yet, coming from that striking, if not dead-drunk, young woman it were as though he'd been slapped in the face by a brittle wind. He watched them zigzag across the narrow street, the woman's hair catching fire under the streetlamp baring resemblance to a certain medic nin with the same haircut. Did this mean he cared about Sakura's opinion of him? Well naturally, he thought, when she'd dismissed him as something foreign like a third cousin he'd felt a sinking sadness, but this had been unadulterated panic.
Kakashi spent the rest of the night looking at his reflection in the window, a dreary dying cactus wilting on the corner of the sill. It was a fickle thing, much like a woman. Some days it would look perky and full of life. Others it would pitch a fit for weeks, drooping at odd angles and becoming rather discolored. He wondered, idly, if it had anything to do with its infrequent watering. Living proof, or in this case dying proof, that he was less nurturing than the deserts of Suna A long sigh passed his parched lips at the mere thought of the sand country. He rose from his rumpled sheets and made his way to his fridge, searching the contents and finding it was quite empty save for two full ice trays.
He stared at the offending pieces of plastic, not recalling when he filled them. As he slipped his sandals on at the door he thought about the situations. Either he wandered in after a hectic mission requiring ice, then forgot, or wandered in after a hectic night at the bar requiring ice, then forgot, or perhaps it had been the work of one of his friends. Ah, but why? It was an itch he couldn't scratch or ignore even while immersed in his favorite Icha-Icha volume. He stopped at the first empty noodle stand he saw, sliding easily onto one of the worn wooden stools. The steam that rose from the broth was intoxicating; this would be his first real meal since his return. With his paycheck he had planned on having something expensive as a treat, however with no report written or turned in, no word of pay. Tsunade was a horrible woman, holding his pay over his head in exchange for detailed reports.
A quiet sigh and the cracking of wood intruded on his silent nasty musings about his lovely yet deadly boss. He turned his head slowly, disinterest obvious in his slack gaze. He was shocked, however, to see that it was the very same pink haired kunoichi he had left at least an hour ago. Her skin and face were sickly under the harsh artificial lighting of the shop. A shadow passed over her back as she set the bowl down, wiping her chin lazily, looking down at her full bowl with unease. He couldn't help the smile that came so easily when it came to his former students.
"You know they make napkins for that sort of thing." He joked, gripping the chair between his legs and swinging around on the stool to face her.
Sakura nearly leapt a foot in the air, 'what inappropriate behavior for a ninja, to have her guard down like that' Kakashi thought, using his heels to propel him side to side on the old stool. The young woman looked startled at first, but her eyes softened realizing there was no danger.
"You startled me Sensei." A cool silence passed between them, only broken by the sound of a bowl hitting the table in front of him. He twirled to meet it with a sigh. A feminine laugh sounded from his left followed by a promise not to watch him eat. To prove her point Sakura turned in her chair to face the other direction, leaning on the counter top twirling her chopsticks idling between her fingers. Kakashi hesitated a fraction of a second before tugging his mask to this chin, dipping into his noodles immediately. Through the slurps and clattering of bowls they carried on a casual conversation laden with unimportance and space. They both seemed detached, Kakashi knew why he was, but there was something different in his young student's voice.
"…Did you fill my ice tray?" he asked, turning his head to look at her uneasily with his uncovered eye.
Sakura, still not facing him, visibly shook with what he assumed to be laughter. He was correct when she raised her head to tip back a little while choking on her ramen. He didn't see what was so amusing about breaking and entering, but by her reaction he could adequately assert his notion that it was not her. Perhaps he had just forgotten. With a large slurp and clatter Kakashi sighed, slouching on his stool wishing for a back to lean against. Urging his mask back up he swiveled in his chair to face the pink-haired Kunoichi.
"Naruto was over there to collect your mail a few times." She murmured, coughing lightly into the crook of her elbow. She ventured a look over her shoulder, seeing the empty bowl; she turned completely around to resume eating with the ability to talk to her Sensei instead of the wall of the ramen house. Through his mask he sipped water, wondering exactly where that mail was. Sakura, sensing his thoughts exactly, grinned into her bowl while finishing a mouthful.
"I put mine on top of the dresser, though I'm sure Naruto set it wherever he wanted," Before snooping about his apartment looking for something personal. Kakashi thought to himself with a sigh. How hadn't he seen it coming? He allowed her to eat in silence, his mind reeling for something to talk about. She coughed again, quickly drinking back her entire glass of water. It reminded him.
"How were the others?"
"Stable condition as yourself but I'm keeping Haruki for another day or so to completely heal that leg of his."
Kakashi hadn't been aware his teammates sustained any lasting injury on the mission other than a few lacerations and bruises, as well as wounded pride. At his questioning look she rubbed a finger under chin.
"When we brought him in he protested, and in the resulting fight he had a few fractures." Sakura laughed lightly, quite nervous and embarrassed it seemed. She went onto explain that in his state he could scarcely deflect even the nurse's solid punch to the gut.
"After all, when we first saw you come in we thought it was all a big fuss over nothing." Unfortunately it seems as though we've single handedly brought on the plague. Sakura's violence at the work place was an easy subject to grasp and he teased her torturously for it until the bills came for them separately. He fished in his pockets for money and coming up with none. In his lazy habit of daydreaming while changing out of uniform he forgot his coin purse in his ANBU uniform. If it weren't for Sakura he would perhaps be washing dishes until his hands were wrinkled prunes.
She laughed easily pulling out a few coins from her own pocket. He apologized sheepishly; relieved she was taking it so well. "It's just like you to come with no money Kakashi-Sensei, I bet you only sat down here knowing I'd pay your tab." He knew she was merely joking, but the unfamiliar feeling of shame overcame him, a warm blush surfacing his ears. "To tell the truth I hadn't noticed you sitting there. I was entirely slave to my own musings that I could have just easily sat down next to Naruto." The two began to hop down from their stools, Sakura pushing enough money for the two of them along the counter onto a shallow wooden dish. Brushing his lap of imaginary crumbs he watched Sakura pat down her long coat she had been using to sit on perhaps for an extra boost.
"That's alright Sensei, but this just means you owe me two dinners." With a weak, but no less serious, chuckle she turned and waved goodnight over her shoulder. The silver haired jonin ran a hand along his unruly hair with a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart. Since when did he raise such selfish children? Pocketing his hands he began the quiet walk home. The streets were unnaturally empty, even the bars had fewer patrons. He guessed it was the work of the virus his team had brought into the village. Kakashi just prayed that the Gods were merciful and would not reveal to the population exactly which team caused them misery. But more importantly than the wrath of the locals, was the wrath of one local in particular.
Apparently a favor was no longer a favor now that she was an adult. He'd expect such blatant disrespect from someone of Naruto's caliber, not Sakura's. But it couldn't be helped, not now. As much as he expected to dread it, he found he was somewhat looking forward to their next two formal meetings. Eating with Sakura had been an oddly pleasing experience. Unlike Naruto she actually chewed her food, and even more, she sacrificed her comfort at the bar to give him his own privacy without requesting to see his face. He let his fingers ghost over the cloth covering before falling once more to his pocket. He'd lost count at how many times in the past they'd try to see beneath it. He waved it off as a fluke, she was likely too tired from her shift to argue, probably wanting some privacy and quiet herself.
With a satisfied mind and belly he entered his apartment complex for hopefully the last time that night. Immediately he searched his place for all the missing mail. The contents were not what amused him, but where he found them that did. Some were placed by his cupboard, others were stashed on shelves. The most interesting was under his bed, three neat envelopes amongst the dust bunnies. He rubbed his masked chin before ripping open each one of them, finding in one small envelope an invitation to a party he would have never attended even if he had been in town. Nonetheless he looked at the lightly colored beige and gold trimmed card and flipped it open. He should have guessed, but the stamp on the front, or the names on the return address, but the meaning had escaped him until he read the greeting. It had been a wedding invitation for one of the members of Team Ten. He remembered their brief encounter as their team leader, and was a little shocked to see the brash woman Sakura often fought tooth and nail with over Sasuke had settled down, with a team mate no less.
He didn't know he had been sitting down until he felt his rear hit the bed in a light bounce. His fingers traced the outline of the wedding bells and the gold scripture. It had been signed personally with a little doodle requiring his attendance 'or else'. Despite the light hearted note he did not smile nor did he feel worried. He had a legitimate excuse this time. His hands rested between his knees, sighing deeply at the invitation before discarding it in the already growing pile of junk. He'd only gone through five more notices, bank statements, and various other things before he fished into the pile for the offending invite, stuffing it between two volumes of Icha-Icha above his bed. Gathering all the papers he slapped the pile into the garbage, reflecting in his kitchen on the contents.
Somehow he didn't feel as though he had been invited to a wedding. He'd felt as though he had been invited to a funeral, all the emotions that came with it, the tightness, and the discomfort, the need to get away and separate himself from the event. He'd had his share amount of invites to important events, none of which evoked quite as strong a reaction as this. Frustrated he tossed the rest of the mail away without looking at their contents and prepared himself for bed. That night while lying soundlessly, one arm flung over his eyes to shade from the impending dawn, he dreamed of opening little white cards with all his acquaintances' names etched in gold. The pile seemed never ending; each time getting bigger with the feeling he'd never see an end. He awoke to the sound of a crash and a cold draft. The kunai under his pillow was instantly in hand, body crouched amongst his sheets. But the only threat that existed was the open window and the potted cactus that now lay on its side in the debris of soil and clay. The sweat began to cool along his brow as he fetched a dust pan from behind his dresser and a thick bristled brush. Scooping up the remains he took the sorry looking plant to the garbage. With the pan tipped at a slight angle he stared at the mess for what felt like minutes before retracting his hand.
He felt horrible, but if he had to endure, so did his little friend.
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So that's the end of chapter one. So happy to be finished with it. I completed a large portion of this in the school library with a very beige font. xD So if there are mistakes I missed it's because of that.
Again, please leave comments, I love them.
Chapter two is already two pages in and I should be finished with it soon. :3 I'd love your suggestions and pointers. I'm researching the series on the side while I write so if someone dies in the next few chapters and I write them as still here. D': Please endure?
Love you.
