Summary: When your heart is broken, it is sometimes easier to be with someone you don't love, rather than be alone. Who cares about right and wrong?
Rating:
Pairing: Kakasaku
"Dammit Sakura! Stop thinking and fucking do what you want! You're 23! This is okay. If you don't want this, if you don't want me, than say so and I'll back off. But only if you really truly don't want me. Forget about everything else, and just take a chance."
Kakashi had truly, inevitably lost it. Sakura knew what she should do. Close her door. Turn him away. Give him that sad, guilty look that says more than her ineloquent mouth ever could. But something told her not to. It had been a long time, (too long, inner Sakura asserted passionately) since she had felt any inclination to be with a man. She didn't know what exactly would come of the event if she were to open her door a little wider and let him in. A one night stand? A week of pretending that it wasn't just a mistake? Or maybe something real? A tangible, long lasting relationship. She was inclined, in her ever romantic mind, to believe in love and its forever after quality, even after years of being punished for this faith.
She knew that somewhere, in a deep emotional part of her that she didn't want him to leave. Not now, when he was so close to answering her questions. This chasm in her of emotion she had felt for so long, he would finally give her the ability to name it. It scared her.
Because what if it isn't love? Would it be worth giving away her first time, her virginal worth to find out. A risk, a big one. What else could it be, romanticism argued, but love? So she gave him a look, something more than contemplation, less than doubt, and opened her door.
It had been a long time since Kakashi had been with a woman. Not for lack of prospects, to be assured. The physical health of a ninja combined with an impressive bank account seemed to make up for his aloof personality and questionable reading habits. However, these floozies never really stuck around and so he could only imagine it as natural when he started to feel differently around his young female….friend? student? Whatever she was. The fact was, she was important to him. She had been the most solid fixation in his life.
Naruto, Sasuke, even the Hokages had changed and left him when he wasn't ready. Sakura however, had always been reliable. Punctual even when the boys had started showing up late to meetings to avoid waiting for the copynin. Even after she left him to train with Tsunade, she had taken time to visit him and maintain some sort of relationship. She had even asked him if he forgave her for leaving his tutelage. Him forgive her? He had been quick to assure her that she needn't apologize for him not being a strong enough teacher. She had apologized and tried to explain that that wasn't the reason she changed teachers, but he had pretended to argue with her steadily, and she had given up, not aware of how strongly to heart he had taken her kindness.
Ultimately, it was no hard decision when he finally went to make his move, banging on her door at near midnight. He had been stunned, to say the least when she had tried to explain in the face of his confession that their feelings didn't matter because the world was against them. Stunned not only because she had rejected him with logic instead of refusal, but because she had inadvertently admitted that she harbored her own feelings.
So he wasn't surprised when it was relatively easy to persuade his way through the door. That look had caught him a little off guard but he passed it off, to excited and pleased to consider it's meaning (against his better judgement, but ultimately irrelevant to the course of history since it was bound to happen anyway.) So he walked through the door and claimed what was as far as he could consider, his.
In the aftermath, Sakura curls up into his warmth and tries not to remember what she has learned. For she has learned much when she let Kakashi into her bed, and she cannot give back the knowledge, no matter how hard she tries.
Kakashi shifts his arm out of her way to him, his only reciprocation of her affection. He feels angry and disgusted with himself, for his revelation is as disturbing and tragic as hers.
In their love-making they have learned what it is they feel truthfully and exactly.
It is not love, much as they wish they could make it so, in the shadow of their mistake. They have both lived in this way for so very long, and now they find that the are nothing more than lonely. And loneliness always clings to that which is the most constant in their life.
Unfortunately, neither can accept this as a mistake and try to make amends, cause it can't, simply can't, be true that there is nothing more to it than that. So he kisses her forehead as he leaves, and promises to see her first thing when he returns. He jumps from his perch on the sill, and she lays down and crys, loathing herself for missing him already.
End
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