First Day of My Life
by yukisyo

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This story will be in Kakashi's POV. I don't usually write first-person, so I apologize if you spot a couple incorrect pronouns.

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chapter one

The first time I saw her, I was walking down Birch Road – no, Maple – or maybe Cedar? I don't know. I don't remember. It was named after some kind of tree.

Whatever the road's name was, it was a quite peaceful one. It was located in a charming, quaint area; it would've been a great place to grow up in. Yes, there was the occasional old lady who hobbled by, waving her cane at drivers who honked impatiently at her, and it was a popular place for pet owners to walk their dogs – but I like dogs. I used to have one myself. Pakkun was his name.

The neighborhood was rather rich. The houses were a nice size, better than my grubby old apartment, anyways, and everyone knew everybody else. The location was still the best part though.

Whenever I found the time, I would take a nice walk in the area.

Well actually, I would probably whip out my Icha Icha collection first, but that's beside the point.

I recall it being late noon on a, Sunday, I think. That was when I usually liked to walk around. It was quieter, for one. Most were sleeping in or attending church on Sunday.

She was probably the only other person around that day – at least that I can remember.

(She is the only one I can remember.)

We were approaching each other on the sidewalk adjacent to Birch/Maple/Cedar Road; honestly I hadn't even noticed her at first. I was walking at a leisurely pace, taking long, slow strides and she, she on the other hand, was at a mild trot. I guess she was late for something.

Then our shoulders bumped.

She almost tripped.

If I were a gentleman I would've said an 'excuse me' or perhaps brought my hand out of my coat pocket to make sure she didn't fall. But I'm not, so I did neither.

I laughed.

Well, it was more of a chuckle, and I didn't intend for it to sound cruel… alright maybe a bit amused. At her expense.

She recovered quickly, then continued down the sidewalk," Sorry!" she said, turning her head back at me, holding a hand up in an apologetic manner.

That was when I noticed her, her eyes were a bright green and her hair a pale pink. A fetching combination.

Yes, my gaze did linger, but it wasn't love-at-first-sight, or attraction for that matter – which I bet you were thinking. In fact, I was vaguely wondering if it was even possible to have biologically pink hair or maybe if she had dyed it. Or perhaps it was a wig (although this is coming from a man with silver hair – not grey, wait until I'm sixty for that – since birth.)

Not so romantic.

So I belatedly grunted in response, though it wasn't heard by her. She was already halfway down the path.

That was the beginning.

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No, after that she wasn't the only thing on my mind. No, she didn't plague my every dream. To put quite bluntly, I thought nothing of the mysterious pink-haired, green-eyed girl only but moments after she ran into me.

It might be sad, and it may make me sound like I don't possess even a single slightly romantic bone in my body, but what's true is true…

I think myself as a simple man, I only believe what I know is fact. 'Seeing is believing' is what they say.

I don't believe fate, destiny, anything of that sort, really.

So when I met (clumsy little) pink-haired girl a second time, roughly a month or two later, it was just purely by coincidence.

This time, instead of that nameless road, I, we, were in a bookstore. Contrary to what you were probably thinking, I was notin there for Icha Icha.

I even surprised myself when I walked by the 'mature/adult' section and straight into another one. Text books.

Science text books, to be exact. Ones the nearby high school used and ones I would need to flip through to prepare for next week.

Fine. You can laugh. I live off a teacher's salary. (and the wealth I inherited from my deceased, rich father.)

I somehow manage.

Much to my surprise, someone else was already in the aisle – a young, teenage girl.

…and since when did high school girls hang out in the educational section of a bookstore?

This was a first for me.

And, this was pretty rich, it was her. She was flipping through a thick book, sitting against one of the book shelves with her legs outspread, looking rather bored and tired.

I noticed she was wearing a school uniform. But instead of those fairly appealing sailor-suits, this uniform was quite boring – it consisted of a white blouse, dark blazer and a matching skirt which was conservatively cut mid-thigh and left positively everything to imagination. And a tie, dear god, femininity was lost to all the poor female students at her school.

She looked up at me, acknowledging me bleakly. Slowly, her gaze slid back to the small printed words, only for her to do a stilted double-take.

I almost smiled. It probably would've come out a smirk, had I.

Her actions were so predictable she seemed… vulnerable.

For a moment she just looked at me. Ignoring her, like I do to a lot of things and people, I turned to the shelf on my right and fingered through the books' spines, trying to figure out exactly which one I was looking for…

"Hey, I remember you."

Was I really that memorable? I had to ask myself. If I was her and I met me, I definitely wouldn't spend any time or energy remembering me. Then again it was most likely my mismatched eyes and light hair. She nearly surprised me, though, trying to strike up a conversation with me, a stranger. Nearly.

First, I considered pretending that I didn't remember her. Just so we could quit this small talk and so I could go through that text book as quickly as possible and leave.

I answered anyways.

"Hello," I said pleasantly," You're the one that nearly ran me over, if I recall correctly?"

If you haven't figured it out already, I have a nasty sarcastic streak.

It's not that I'm unsociable, I simply didn't have any reason to make friends with a teenage girl. I hoped she would get my point. A point which I delivered in not-so-subtle hinting.

She smiled and somehow I knew she caught my draft. "Yep."

Not one awkward break in her voice or sheepish indication in her features.

Now, I was slightly taken aback. I didn't let it translate onto my face though. I'm especially good at that.

I decided that it would have been rude not to answer, so I settled for, "Mm."

She yawned loudly and stretched her arms above her head. Mid-yawn, she spoke," Since I was three, everyone's told me not to talk to strangers. So, hi, my name's Sakura."

I was amused. Very amused. Sakura, her method of logic was, slightly appalling and peculiar at the same time, however interesting, nonetheless. I felt the need to scold her for giving her name to a complete stranger. You know, as her elder. But it seemed she already had enough of that. "Kakashi," a bit curious, I asked," Though I wasn't aware that meeting someone once – "

"Twice." Sakura corrected, flipping to the index of her textbook.

"– promoted them up from a stranger."

"Well we know each other's names, so we are now acquaintances."

I raised an eyebrow at this. "Really, is that so?" I drawled.

"Really. It is so," she grinned back. She turned to her book once again.

Usually if a complete stranger had the cheek to respond like her, I would have been vastly irritated. Not that her comebacks weren't annoying enough, but a grown man versus a little teenage girl? The advantage I had against her bordered unfair.

I watched, lazily, as her finger, the nail thoroughly bitten and un-manicured, slide down the index, looking for something.

"Science?" I was compelled to continue our conversation, really more of a subtle battle of wits. This was pretty entertaining, actually. At least it was more enjoyable than sitting in my apartment with its broken air conditioner. It had been broken for as long as I can remember.

"Mhm. It's my least favorite," she told me without looking up, speaking with a tone which sounded similarly like she'd just downed a gallon of cough syrup. Cherry flavored.

"Shame. It was my favorite when I was your age."

When I was young I hated them all, but I just wanted to motivate her. Why did I want to motivate her? I don't know.

She glanced at me sideways and skewed me a curious look, "How old are you?"

I blinked. "I thought it was rude to ask – "

"Only to us ladies," she cut me off a second time and shook her head with the smallest smile. She continued with a teasing tone, "So, you're what, fifty? Six – "

"Twenty." I lied. I was actually thirty.

"Mm," Sakura said with false grimness, I knew she was only joking." I'm not too sure…"

I gave in. "…plus ten."

"Thirty? That's not bad," she laughed then stopped short when a ringing, somewhat annoying, might I add, filled the air. "My phone…" she pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and flipped it open. I shifted back towards the shelf. Something that should've taken two minutes was taking at least ten, and counting. "Okay, I have to go – see you Kakashi-san," Sakura chirped before jumping to her feet.

I nodded, not bothering to spare her another glace or a proper goodbye.

She left, my gaze promptly dropped to the ground and I then spotted the book which she had just been looking through.

What a coincidence.

It was the exact one I needed.

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I plan to get a second chapter up soon (eventually.) My main goal is not to turn this into one of those typical high school fics. I already have some plans to avoid this, so I hope I follow through.

Feedback's appreciated, especially on my first chapter of a whole new fic XD.

Thanks for reading.