Hatake Kakashi, successful author and college professor, lives a modest life. He keeps himself busy with his multiple jobs and few friends, always accepting their invitations to join them. Secretly, however, Kakashi constantly wishes to flee from the social setting. Sure, he'll join along on a dinner invitation when offered, or he'll go to a house-party when called, and even participate in his friend's drunken rants when they telephone him at four in the morning.

He tries to avoid himself as much as possible. He'll work fifty-hour weeks, he'll accept every request, he'll fill his entire schedule—anything to distract his mind, to ease his masked loneliness as much as he can. Lately it's been getting too much to handle, he really doesn't have time for this anymore.

There's a voice in his head that traps him, keeping him in the past. It spits venom when it wants to, constantly showing up unannounced as if it belongs here, as if it was always meant to be.

He wasn't always like this, though. He's not sure when the depression started, similar to how humans don't know the exact day the seasons change without the help of a calendar. From fall to winter, from spring to summer. Somewhere along the years he had stopped fearing mortality. He can't pinpoint the change like a location on a map, but he knows it was at some point after Obito had died.

Or was it after Rin?

He can't remember.

It doesn't matter, he thinks, trying to blink the exhaustion away. He's standing outside of Amaterasu, a popular yet quiet bookstore in downtown Chiyoda that's owned by non other than Itachi Uchiha. After a couple long weeks of email forwards and time-consuming phone calls, he's finally gotten Itachi to sell his newly released novel. His CEO, Tsunade Senju, had lectured about wasting time with Amaterasu.

"Don't get me wrong, I like the Uchiha's and want them to do well, but why're you so persistent on signing with them? We can get the top stores in all of Japan to beg for the rights to sell your books, we don't need one tiny establishment."

She's right, of course. She always is. But he's never been in it for the money, that's just a bonus. The truth of the matter is that Itachi inherited the store after his father had died a few years ago, and Kakashi's been wanting to lend a helping hand since. He felt guilty that he's been so busy, the thought of his friend always slipping through the cracks of his mind as each day begins and another ends.

It wasn't until a couple weeks ago when he'd went along with his Asuma to a bar, unknowing of the actual significance behind it all. Kakashi thought it was another Friday night invitation to go drinking, until he walked in and a choir of happy birthday's was shrieking in his ears. He'd forgotten, of course—like usual.

Something caught his eye then. At the end of the alcohol-soaked counter was Itachi Uchiha, stuffed in between bundles of neon-colored balloons and drunken toddlers, smiling at him as if no time had passed at all. They talked for hours that night, smiling and teasing as if they were still in their prime. They prattled on about their fears and dreams as if it was six years earlier again and they were buried in the shade of their old ivy-mantled University.

Itachi had told him all about how he made his little brother manager of Amaterasu. He showed Kakashi his brother's baby pictures on his phone again, listing off the exact dates and times each were taken as easily as reciting the alphabet. He spoke of his mother and how she's faring, how her husband's death keeps her stuck in the past, a time where she wasn't filled with grief.

It was then that the thought occurred to Kakashi, between the hours of catching up and ounces of alcohol consumption, that it was time he'd finally help his near-forgotten friend.

And that's how he ended up here, at ten in the evening, gazing appreciatively at the over-the-top display of his book through the store's window. What catches his eye the most is the giant canvas behind the hardcover, so finely painted and detailed that Kakashi can't look away from it. He's impressed with how well it draws attention to the actual product—it was absolutely striking. However, he's never known Itachi as a painter.

Then again, he thinks. He's Itachi.

He walks in wordlessly, not caring about the closed sign hanging on the door. The lights were turned on inside, signaling that someone was still here after hours. He wants to thank Itachi in person and, if he's lucky, get to see what his little brother looks like when he's not two-years old anymore.

From somewhere in the back of Amaterasu, he hears something hit the floor, and then, a string of curses. Curiosity getting the better of him, he follows the noise like a trail of breadcrumbs. He rounds the corner of the last bookshelf steadily, and his wandering gaze catches on a young man standing on a step ladder. His hair was golden under the yellow lights of the store.

He can see from the side that his apron is absolutely covered in dried paint, mimicking more of a used coloring book than professional attire. He notices splotches of paint near the pockets, resembling the same colors as the freshly-painted canvas.

He has found his artist.

He observes that the man's just a tad too short to reach the top shelf, even with the support from the cheap-looking step-ladder. Did the store not supply rolling ladders? This was a two-story establishment, what on earth was Itachi thinking by not offering basic essentials? Did the Uchiha not have the money?

The blonde is on the very tip of his toes, tongue poking out just slightly in concentration as he tries to keep his balance. He's so close, too, the book was almost secure on the shelf, just a little bit more…

"C'mon, you bastard, get up there!" He overhears the employee mumble to himself.

Kakashi walks towards him to offer his help when suddenly, the blonde starts to wobble. The young man's face contorts in panic as he falls backwards, and Kakashi's focus is slowed. He can envision the future well before the employee screams, can picture the blood pooling around his head like a glob of ink in water. It would over in less than five seconds, just like Rin, because time doesn't slow down for anybody. There are no seconds chances, only the present, and the aftermath.

He races towards him in hopes that he can catch the man before his pretty sunshine hair meets grim tile. He holds his arms out as he flings himself towards him, adrenaline racing through him like a drug.

He makes it, just in time.

Kakashi instantly wraps his arms around the boy as they roll across the floor, crashing into the other bookshelf lining the wall. The wooden shelves shake from the impact and he cradles the blonde's head like an egg against his chest as the dense books fall upon his back. He winces achingly as a particularly sharp corner of a hard-cover strikes his nape.

When no more books seem to fall, he deems it safe to release the clumsy man from his grasp. He places his palms on the floor to hold himself up, his hands on each side of the blonde's head. Kakashi looks at him deeply, trying to judge the damage. He finds no cuts, no scrapes, only an abundance of freckles. They were similar to stars in the countryside, and Kakashi's certain that it would take him minutes to count all of them. Kakashi notices the employee's wide-eyes, observing him, too.

And holy shit, those eyes. Kakashi thinks he could write an entire series just of those azure orbs. They were extravagant, gleaming with such purity and beauty.

"Are you okay?" Kakashi asks, voice low with concern.

The blonde gulps and nods his head slowly, as if he's not sure himself. He gets up wordlessly, reaching a hand out for the man to take. His hand was fire against Kakashi's, skin soft with delicacy.

When he stands in front of him, Kakashi realizes just how short the man actually is, the top of his head only coming up to Kakashi's shoulders. His height draws in Kakashi's attention, making him focus on the adorableness of it all. He looks down at his paint-filled apron and skims his eyes over the colorful name tag.

Naruto? What a silly name.

"Thank you for catching me." Naruto mumbles, bowing without a hint of grace.

"Please, none of that, Naruto-san." Kakashi insists. He waits for the blonde to raise his head. "I'm just pleased that you're okay."

He watches Naruto stumble on what to say. He looks at everywhere but Kakashi, his cheeks staining red. He stutters and stops, hesitation apparent.

"Did you perhaps.. want to purchase a book?" Naruto manages to ask, smiling sheepishly.

For a moment, he's blinded with an almost uncanny resemblance of Obito. It makes him choke in the silence, a punch-ready fist suddenly locked around his scarred heart.

"Maybe another time."

"O-okay."

"I'm actually looking for an Uchiha. Are any of them here?"

"No, sorry, they went home for the night." He says with a tight-lipped frown. "We actually closed an hour ago, I was just finishing up some leftover work."

As Kakashi's about to speak, his lips already forming the beginning syllables, Naruto's phone starts to ring. Kakashi closes his mouth, deeming the interruption as the perfect excuse to leave.

He waves goodbye silently, turning on his heels and quickly walking away towards the direction of the exit. There's a part of him that thinks he shouldn't have come, that he should've walked away as soon as he saw the closed sign in the window. But the other part knows, in some way or another, that he's altered the future. He's certain that the consequences will find him when he's least expecting it, he can already envision the nightmares, can hear Obito's screams in the hollow cave of his mind.

"Hey, wait." Naruto says, the ear-piercing ringtone suddenly coming to a halt.

'Don't stop, keep walking.' The voice reminds him.

Kakashi freezes mid-step, turning his head towards the blonde.

"Would you like to get some coffee? I'd really like to repay you." Naruto asks, pointing to the café across the street. Hope and optimism glisten in his features.

'Don't say yes. You don't want this; go find someone else to satisfy your loneliness.'

"Sure."

'Are you that desperate?'

"Awesome! Let me get my things—" He stops, and his enthusiastic tone falters, "Actually, would you mind helping me clean this up first?"

Kakashi nods, and Naruto smiles in return. He's sure that every other person in existence would've declined and walked out—no, actually, they wouldn't have even come to the store in the first place. But Kakashi's an idiot, and idiots never learn their lesson.

They pick up the books in silence, elbows bumping into one another every now and then. He takes care of the books that Naruto can't reach, while the other works on the lower shelves, humming whenever he feels like it. The sound of it keeps Kakashi calm, grounded, makes him nostalgic. Of what? He doesn't know.

"I think that's it." Naruto says, searching for anything out of place. He rolls his neck and sighs, stretches his back. "Let me go get my stuff, I'll be out in a sec!"

And now Kakashi's alone, trying not to question his actions (and possibly, his motives) while Naruto's in the backroom. He can see him through the crack of the door as he bundles up in his scarf and coat.

You can still leave before it's too late. No one's stopping you.

Kakashi doesn't obey. He stands there, pretending his feet were glued to the wood beneath him. He will always acknowledge the voice, but he will never listen to it.

Naruto skips out of the room, shutting off light switches as he passes them. A bag is slung over his shoulder, his bangs messily framing his smile-rimmed eyes as he looks at Kakashi. He walks past him and takes out a frog wallet, holding it in the air for Kakashi to see.

"My treat!" He exclaims, holding the door open with his back for Kakashi, shaking the cartoon frog left-to-right with a humorous grin.

Kakashi looks between the wallet and Naruto, face deadpanned as he states, "I can see the resemblance."

Naruto frowns, sticking his tongue out at Kakashi in protest of compared to a frog. Kakashi wants to laugh, but he won't.

"That only makes you look even similar." He teases, walking out of the store. Naruto laughs at that, an unexpected sound that makes Kakashi's ears burn at the tips.

Naruto whirls the keys around his finger behind him, closing the door and turning around to lock it. "So, my mystery guardian angel, what's your name, anyways?" He asks, his back facing Kakashi.

"Hatake, Kakashi."

Naruto's keys drop from his grasp, clattering awkwardly on the concrete. The blonde doesn't move, his posture wary.

Kakashi doesn't boast at the reaction that his name has on the man. There was nothing amazing about his name, regardless of what others thought. He doesn't see himself as worthy of such a reaction, he's only an author, a professor. He thinks he should've used a pseudonym, should've called himself "The Scarecrow", it would make life a lot more interesting.

Naruto cranes his neck to look at Kakashi behind him, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Kakashi answers with a frown. He picks up the fallen keys and holds them out for Naruto. The blonde takes them gently, still staring at him oddly.

Kakashi leaves him standing there, walking towards the café. He can hear Naruto try to catch up, his racing footsteps echoing throughout the empty street.

A bell rings above their heads as Kakashi opens the café door. The shop is thick with the scent of coffee beans and desserts, he can taste the sweetness in the air. He doesn't particularly like it.

Naruto's eyes are closed, a satisfied smile adorning his freckled complexion. "It smells soooo delicious, right? I love coming here on my breaks, they always make the best muffins."

Kakashi doesn't want to reply to that.

"You find a place to sit and I'll go order. What'cha want?"

"Small, black coffee. Nothing else."

Naruto gives him a quick face of disgust before asking, "Ew. Are you serious?"

Kakashi tilts his head to the side, curious towards the reason for insulting his taste. What was wrong with plain coffee?

Naruto gives up and walks towards the counter, shaking his head like he's heard something ridiculous, as if enjoying coffee without sugar was preposterous and evil.

Kakashi feels a little weird about it now.

A few minutes later, Naruto comes back with two coffees and two plates of cookies. Kakashi wants to groan loudly. He doesn't want to eat them, but he also doesn't want to tell Naruto that he won't.

'See? Should've listened to me.'

On second thought, Naruto's thoughtful and kind, so Kakashi decides he'll suffer through it.

Naruto sits opposite of him and places the desserts and coffees in front of Kakashi. With a grin plastered on his face he explains, "Okay, so I figured you didn't like sweet stuff since you enjoy black coffee—which is gross by the way—so I got you these earl grey tea cookies instead."

"…Tea cookies?"

Naruto takes one and bites into it, crunching loudly.

"Yeah. They're not really sweet or anything, I think they're more for dipping into your coffee or some shit." He says between bites.

Kakashi is taken aback slightly at the consideration Naruto had for him. It makes the older man smile, unable to stop himself as he takes a bite out of one. Naruto's right, they aren't very sweet. It's the perfect mixture for him, tasty and satisfying without the unnecessary cups of sugar tossed in.

"Thank you." Kakashi says honestly.

Naruto smiles in return.

"Also, thank you for the lovely display you created for my book. It looked like a lot of time and care was put into it."

The blonde grins from ear to ear beneath his coffee cup, setting it down heavily on the table top. "It's not a problem. I really enjoy your works, so when my manager told me we'd be selling your new book, I got so excited! I told him I'd do the display by myself as soon as the shipments came in and—oh my god." He stops, sudden fear and realization set into his features as all the pieces started to click together. "Wait. That's why you were at Amaterasu!" He points a cookie towards the direction of the bookstore.

"I didn't know you liked my work." Kakashi counters, playfully.

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, very funny, but you can't tell my manager about what happened tonight, okay? He's going to ask you if you like the setup at some point and you'll tell him whatever, just please for the love of god, don't speak of the ladder incident." Naruto pleads.

Interesting, so he was fearful of Itachi's little brother. Kakashi was suspicious. What would Sasuke do, fire him? It's not as if he had fallen on purpose, and wasn't it Itachi's fault in the first place for not having proper equipment?

Something isn't adding up.

"Speaking of that, does your store not have rolling ladders, Naruto-san? I saw that you have the tracks set up for them."

Naruto winces oddly.

"We did have them.. but the owner wanted this new line from this interior designer. The shipment's arriving tomorrow."

"And the manager made you still restock the top shelves anyways, he couldn't wait until tomorrow? I can report them for employee abuse." Kakashi says. He wants to call Itachi and arrange a meeting with his little brother. He grips his coffee, irritation forming.

"No!" He exclaims, his hands flying out wildly in protest. "No no, my manager didn't make me do this. I uh—" Naruto hesitates. "I wanted to make less work for myself tomorrow, so I thought I could get some of it done tonight."

Kakashi waits before replying, trying to make sure that he was understanding him correctly. "No one ordered you to restock the shelves?" He asks slowly.

Naruto shakes his head.

"So, you're just inexplicably mindless, then."

His blue doe-eyes look down at his own hands with subtle sensibility, and Kakashi goes rigid in his seat. He just used his professor voice, didn't he? That cold, demeaning tone isn't meant for Naruto.

As he was about to apologize, something unexpected happens.

Naruto starts to chuckle.

Kakashi raises an eyebrow in curiosity, and Naruto's chuckles form into whole-hearted, full-blown laughter. Kakashi looks around briefly to see the humor, but he's left thoughtless.

"I'm sorry, but that's the nicest way someone has ever told me that I'm a fucking idiot." He says between laughs.

And Kakashi laughs silently with him. He feels a comfortable warmth fill his chest, affection blossoming through his veins every second he spends with him. He wants to save this moment, to bookmark it and come back anytime he wants to experience this congenial and wild thing called Naruto again.

"How old are you, Naruto-san?"

"Why?" He asks sharply, seeming defensive. It was as if Kakashi had crossed an invisible line. It puts him on the edge of his seat, sudden tension claws its way to his throat.

"Can I not know your age?"

"You can. If you guess right."

Kakashi drinks his coffee, letting the bitterness keep him grounded. He stares at the freckled boy, observing and calculating. He can't be more than twenty-five, Kakashi thinks. He still has doe-like eyes, and there's an innocence within them that speaks of a recent youth. Also, who carries a frog wallet?

"Nineteen?"

Naruto rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Wait, younger or older?" Kakashi asks.

His words are low, hushed between his lips and a cup of coffee. "You figure it out."

Kakashi doesn't know why, but he speculates that Naruto's age is a soft spot for him. He seems guarded, almost as if he's certain that he knows what Kakashi's thinking. It irks him, so he guesses a number Naruto won't expect.

"Fine. Twenty-four."

Naruto widens his eyes in surprise. He claps his hands in mock applause and teases, "Ooo, so close! I'm turning twenty-four next month. I'll still give you credit, though."

He's fallen for Naruto's teasing, getting sucked in the same way a black hole bends light. He wants to know Naruto's soft spots, his stories, how he likes his tea in the morning. He imagines them all being laid out like an open-book, begging him to turn the pages. He bites his bottom lip, unsure how to handle his own thoughts.

"Why'd you make me guess?" He ends up asking.

"Because no one normally thinks I'm older than a teenager. I'm pretty short if you haven't noticed, so apparently that means I have to get carded every time I want a drink."

"What's wrong with that? I think a lot of people would be flattered if they were asked to show ID."

"Yeah, that's true." He comments before taking a bite out of a cookie. "Except they still refuse to serve me. They think that I made like, a fake ID or something. Plus, no one wants to flirt with me except weird old men. Do you know how annoying that is?"

Kakashi doesn't know if he qualifies as a weird old man.

"Well, I wasn't judging by your height." He points out. Naruto's eyebrows jut downwards in confusion, small creases forming in between. Kakashi continues on, "It was your eyes, actually. They're large and puffy-like, and it made me think of my friend who only talks about youth."

Naruto's laugh is wild and sharp, "My eyes? That's a new one, but I like it better than the others!"

Kakashi chuckles along as the blonde's infectious laughter soars through him. He rests his chin on his palm and says, voice no more than a whisper, "I like them."

"What, the cookies?"

"Your eyes," he corrects, "They're captivating."

He watches as the blonde stops laughing almost instantly, and his face flushes a lovely rose. Naruto doesn't look away from him, caught in between Kakashi's stare and his alluring nature.

"I like your height, too. It's cute."

And watching Naruto fidget in his seat, as if he suddenly turned shy, was the key to it all. It sends quick pulses of infatuation through Kakashi's veins, making him hold his breath from the sudden electrifying feeling that swallows him whole.

Naruto hasn't said anything, looking uncertain of how to reply. He's not turning him down, at least.

"Have I made you uncomfortable?"

Naruto looks down at his plate, avoiding the older man's gaze as he quietly asks, "You think I'm cute?"

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No." He says after a moment.

"Does that mean I can call you Naruto-chan?"

"Absolutely not!" He declares, throwing a half-eaten cookie at Kakashi's face.

Kakashi catches the dessert in his hand, somehow, and smirks like he's about to deliver the punchline of a joke. Naruto frowns, waiting for the man's retort.

"Naruto-chan." He drawls out in a sickly-sweet voice.

"I will literally, reach over this table and punch you." The blonde asserts half-heartedly, trying to fight a smile of his own.

"Naruto-kun?"

"That's… better." Naruto says, taking a sip of coffee. Then, Kakashi let out a quiet chuckle, and Naruto couldn't contain the laughter that was building up inside. He blows out coffee from his nose, holding his arms around his stomach from the intensity of his laughter.

"That was so gross." Kakashi comments.

"You're gross." He counters instantly. "Black coffee, actually disgusting."

They bicker about each other's tastes humorously, entertaining one another with colorful insults and stories of the different occasions that liquid has come out from Naruto's nose. It was easy with Naruto, Kakashi thinks, falling into casual banter, laughing, simply being.

Naruto excuses himself to the bathroom, and Kakashi eyes the way he walks. He wonders, briefly, just how much of Naruto swinging his hips was on purpose, and how much was simply the natural movement of his body. With nothing else to occupy him, he debates the proper percentage of each in his head, becoming lost in the imagination of Naruto's backside. Does he have freckles everywhere?

Naruto's phone vibrates against the table, lighting up in urgency. Kakashi catches the name of the caller ID and his mouth twitches in amusement. He drinks his coffee, letting the low buzz of the incoming call fade out.

And then it rings again.

Naruto doesn't come out of the bathroom until the fifth unanswered phone call. Naruto smiles as he sits down, not noticing the notifications of the missed calls lighting up his screen.

"Someone named 'Teme' has been calling you non-stop since you left. It seems urgent."

Naruto frowns and picks up his phone, eyes scanning over the bright light. His phone only buzzes once this time, signaling an incoming text. To Kakashi's surprise, Naruto turns the phone off and throws it in his bag, his face uncaring.

"Not important, then?"

"Just my annoying roommate. He acts like a mother-hen sometimes." He replies with a grimace.

"Wondering where you are?"

"Yeah, not like he needs to, though. He just doesn't have anything better to do. Honestly, he pisses me off."

"Move out?" Kakashi asks dumbly.

"Trying, but most places ask for around 450,000 yen upfront. I'm pretty close, but I still have to save for a couple more months."

Kakashi stiffens at the fact that Naruto's goal wasn't even an eighth of his savings account. He would write a check for him right now if he could, but he's fairly certain that Naruto would slap him with Kakashi's own checkbook if he tried. It's a shame, too, because Kakashi doesn't give a shit about his own paychecks. He only uses his money on others, never wanting to indulge in the rich life for himself. It always left a sour taste on his tongue, the way he's overly-paid for doing nothing except what he loves most: writing and teaching.

He doesn't want Naruto to feel uncomfortable, so he changes the subject, respectively trying to avoid prying further into his life.

"How long have you been painting for?"

"Since I was a kid, I guess? My godfather gave me my dad's calligraphy set one day and he tried to show me how it worked and such. I was really young though, so I didn't enjoy calligraphy as much as I enjoyed finger-painting."

"Your father's a calligrapher?"

"Sorta. He was more of a free-lance artist, always taking commissions and such. He never had a concrete job, but his work was amazing, apparently."

Kakashi doesn't want to assume, but he thinks the frequent usage of past-tense speaks louder than Naruto having to verbally announce it. Kakashi knows what it sounds like to hint around death.

"Are you interested in art as a career?"

"I want to be a book designer." He says without a care, tracing his fingertip along the tabletop in a daze. Naruto's eyes are unfocused, yet the muscle memory of painting is still flowing through his fingertips. It was then that Kakashi knew, with blinding realization, that Naruto doesn't want to paint-he needs to paint. It was the same as what writing meant for Kakashi, the same as the unexplainable desire to breathe, to eat, to sleep.

They stayed like that for some time, silently, the two of them, one observing and calculating, the other locked in a world of imagination. They were lost among one another. To them, it felt like reality was only an option, one that neither of them wanted to partake in. They were floating desires, adrift and forgotten until the reminder of the present would bring them back down to earth.

He can hear heels on tile, getting closer with every step. It brings him out of his trance-like state. "I'm sorry, but we'll be closing in five minutes. If you guys want to order anything else I'd be happy to make it, but it'll have to be to-go." The barista says apologetically with a bow.

Kakashi thanks her and the barista bows again, dismissing herself towards the counter. He checks his watch, hiding his surprise at how much time had passed by. He hasn't heard the voice in his head protest, it's been so quiet. So eerily, pleasantly quiet.

Naruto leans in across the table and whispers with a teasing grin, "You know, I've never stayed here until closing before."

Kakashi doesn't know if there's a deeper meaning behind that statement. He thinks maybe, possibly, but he somehow doubts that Naruto is one for double-meanings.

Naruto scrambles from his seat and skips to the coat rack, Kakashi silently following behind. Smoothly, he takes Naruto's coat and holds it open for him with such grace as if he's done this a thousand times before. Naruto awkwardly mumbles a quick thank you, slipping his arms into the jacket while he lets Kakashi do the rest. Kakashi takes the orange scarf (which would normally be an atrocious color, but Kakashi thinks it looks good on him) and wraps it around Naruto's thin neck. He ties a French knot with a subtle flourish, not meeting the blonde's gaze.

They leave together, the bell chiming above their heads at their departure. He watches Naruto look back towards the counter.

"Have a good evening!" Naruto calls to the barista, waving his hand wildly as the door shuts behind them. Kakashi smiles at the sincerity in his voice. He imagines what kindness in its purist form would look like, he pictures it to be a yellow, maybe orange, pictures a sunflower instead. He imagines the autumn wind taking it up in violent gusts; can imagine it spreading Naruto's kindness among the rest of the world.

Kakashi stands there, allowing the cold to bite at his open-skin. It sobers him up achingly-fast, suddenly hyper-aware of the anxiety racing along with the caffeine in his system.

"So uh, could I get your number?" Naruto asks lightly, swinging his bag back and forth mindlessly. He's unaware that he beaten Kakashi to the same question.

Kakashi nods and takes out his wallet. Naruto notices the movement and looks up, blinking curiously at the older man. Kakashi pulls out a business card and holds it out gently towards him, and Naruto is partially stunned. He carefully takes it with both hands, as if it could rip in two with the slightest flick of the wrist. Kakashi smiles in the dark, finding the blonde's mannerisms utterly adorable.

"That's my personal number, so don't be afraid to contact me. I'd like to hear from you again."

Naruto nods with a tight-lipped smile, still gripping the card with both hands. He looks awkward and small under the dim-glow of the streetlight.

It looked as if Naruto wanted to confess, like bottled words were flowing its way up his throat, scratching and banging to come out and reveal itself to the intimate setting. Naruto opens and closes his cupid-bow lips, eyes jutting around the empty streets anxiously every time he meets Kakashi's stare. Kakashi wants to ask him, wants to know what's going through his head.

"I'm going to take off, then. Unless you wanted a ride home?" Kakashi offers instead.

"The bus is coming." Naruto mumbles.

"I'm sure it is, but would you like me to drive you home?"

"The bus.. is coming?" Naruto says again, slower this time, drawled out and seeming more like a question than a statement.

Kakashi twirls his keys around his finger, turns, and motions with his free hand for Naruto to follow him. He doesn't need to look to know that Naruto's hot on his heel, he can hear the soft drag of Naruto's feet shuffling against the concrete.

"Where do you live, Naruto-kun?"

"You know Kioshi Park? I live like, directly on the opposite side."

His car was parked a store down from the bookstore, seeming almost invisible in the black of night if not for the streetlights around it. He unlocks it remotely, and the machine lights up in return. He opens the passenger door for Naruto, and next to him, he hears Naruto take a breath.

"You drive this in the city?" He asks, disbelief in his voice. He sits down inside the posh vehicle, instantly running his hands along the onyx-colored interior.

"It's a company car. I don't really care what happens to it." Kakashi admits, leaning over Naruto to take his seatbelt. He buckles it securely around the man's waist and closes the passenger door before Naruto can react.

As soon as Kakashi opens the driver's side, Naruto inquires, "Is your company hiring?"

He slides in the driver's seat, turning the key in the ignition without falter. "Maybe," Kakashi starts. He looks to Naruto now, smirk firmly in place and one hand on the wheel, "But what's your sell?"

Naruto doesn't look like how knows how to reply. Kakashi pulls smoothly away from the curb, deeming silence as his answer. He thinks of Naruto working next to him, having his own little desk, his paints and artwork scattered around the building. It gives him a warm feeling, makes his body relax into a daydream of peacefulness, a daydream of sunshine.

"Are you asking me to have sex with you?"

Kakashi stares open-mouthed at Naruto, expression and posture frozen under the intensity of azure-colored eyes.

"Where in the hell did you get that from?" Kakashi shouts. He didn't mean to raise his voice, it was an automatic reflex towards the sudden accusation.

"You asked me!"

"I asked 'what's your sell', not that!"

"Yeah, sell! Like, selling sex in return for a job!"

He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, suddenly feeling a migraine start to form. Maybe he was too old for Naruto, there seems to be too vast of a difference in comprehension levels.

"I was asking about your strong qualities, Naruto, such as if you've marketed or managed a team before." Kakashi explains with a groan, turning on his blinker.

"Oh," He says, "well, neither of those. I've only worked small jobs besides Amaterasu."

He leans his head back and sighs silently. He doesn't know how to respond, and he doesn't particularly want to, either. They take a right and drive down the long road in silence, save for the radio playing softly in the background.

Naruto's the first one to break the silence. "Honestly, I thought you were trying to be smooth or something. And there's been a lot of stories on the news recently about sexual harassment in the workplace, so you can't blame me."

"We're not in the workplace. We're not in any workplace." Kakashi insists with strained patience. "I'm trying to drive you home so that we can avoid you getting assaulted in the first place."

From his peripheral vision, he catches Naruto looking out the window with arms crossed, avoiding Kakashi's presence. Had he offended him, or was he feeling embarrassed from his false accusation?

"I wouldn't have agreed to it, anyways." Naruto mutters.

Kakashi stares ahead at the road, shaking his head from the hilarity that is Naruto. Apparently, he wasn't shy, nor offended. "You wouldn't have agreed to the imaginary scenario depicting of me trying to sexually assault you, you mean?"

"Yeah, I was totally ready to break your nose." Naruto asserts with confidence.

The traffic light ahead turns red, and the vehicle slowly comes to a stop. Kakashi looks to Naruto and asks, "Break my nose?"

"Mhm. Like this— ", Naruto starts. He juts his wrist out and forces the heel of his palm upwards in front of Kakashi's chin. "And then— ", He brings his palm directly under the older man's nose, hovering just above his philtrum. "—Bam! Broken nose!" Naruto finishes with a shout.

Kakashi can feel the warmth radiating from Naruto's skin, his delicate wrist only centimeters away from his lips. Naruto's mouth is crinkling at the corners, cheeks pushing out in response from trying to hold in his laughter. The light finally turns, and Kakashi steps on the gas pedal.

"You seem experienced." Kakashi says, amusement at the back of his throat.

"I've had a fair number of rude customers in my years." The blonde says as he crosses his arm with pride, seductively smiling as if he just received a compliment.

And Kakashi can't help but laugh at that. He's smiling wide, eyes squinting from the intensity of his own glee. He's lost in the moment, flying high with Naruto's own chuckles from the passenger seat. He hasn't felt this energized in a long time, not since Obito—not since then.

He doesn't want to think about that now, though.

He slows down as he spots the entrance sign for Kioshi Park, his headlights shining off the metal of the insignia. Naruto points past Kakashi, telling him, "I'm on the left. The big complex there."

Kakashi pulls up and parallel parks in one fluid motion. He shuts his lights off immediately, not wanting to create unwanted gossip in Naruto's neighborhood. He listens to the sound of a seat belt instantly unbuckling, fabric being rustled from the floor as Naruto gathers his belongings. The younger man takes no time in slowing down, seeming urgent to leave as fast as he came.

Kakashi doesn't know what to say.

Goodbye?

Will I see you again?

Call me?

Before he can make up his mind, the car alerts Kakashi of the passenger door opening. It was riveting, watching Naruto leave. He wanted to stop him, to convince the man to stay. But for what, exactly? He has nothing left to say, not a single coherent thought crosses his mind, only the longing, perennial desire to not let him go.

"Thanks for the ride, Kakashi-san!" Naruto yells before closing the door.

Naruto waves dorkily at him as he walks around the car. Kakashi waves back despite Naruto not being able to see through the tint of the windows. He watches him walk away, mesmerized by the way he can flutter about without a care in the world.

Then, he spots a man sitting alone in front of the complex. He has a dark look adorning his face, black hair hanging over his unreadable features. He's watching Naruto, waiting for him to come closer.

Don't touch him, Kakashi thinks, he threatens; He's all I have.

Kakashi's about to step out, fingers already on the handle. Fear clouds his rationalization, the weight in his chest bringing him further into the racing winds of panic. He can taste tragedy on his tongue, can already start mouthing the words that he dreads to bring to the surface.

Time slows as he watches Naruto skip directly towards the man, his sunshine hair bouncing with every step. Naruto stops in front of him and his hands fly wildly in the air as he talks, familiarity flowing from his fingertips.

A friend, then?

The man stands up—a painful hyper awareness stirs inside him at the fact of just how physically close he is to Naruto. Naruto, who was just in his car, safe and sound and warm, says something that makes the stranger-friend glance towards the vehicle. His face distorts into an ugly expression, one that Kakashi can't make out.

As the two walks away, the man places his hand on the small of Naruto's back. Kakashi stops breathing, frozen in the moment. He stares at the moment of intimacy, wide-eyed and full of crippling doubt.

Then, just as quickly, the man turns his head and stares threateningly at him through the car's window. Kakashi knows the stranger can't see him, there's no possible way he could.

But the man still saw, somehow. He stares as if he could see right through Kakashi, a warning of the present, and possibly, the future. The hair on his arms stands tall, fingers growing cold on the steering wheel. His head is hot with adrenaline at the pure possessive and feral glare that was being thrown his way, a reflexive response towards the calling of a fight.

But then Naruto wiggles out of the man's flirty embrace and slaps him upside the head despite the height difference. The stranger-friend rubs his hand at the spot of impact, standing there in a daze as he watches Naruto walk in front of him.

Kakashi silently laughs to himself in the dark, remembering Naruto's earlier conversation about his seemingly annoying roommate. This was the mother-hen, then. His body relaxes, his grip on the wheel loosens. He lets out a breath that he didn't know he was holding.

There was no competition, no real threat.

Still, there was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that he couldn't shake off as he drove home. A prickling sensation along his spine that kept him on edge, swaying his attention at every turn.

He visualizes that predatory glare, the intimacy of his embrace.

The realization hits him when he's lying in bed, blankets thrown astray from the wild movement of his internal breakthrough, that he most definitely was not just Naruto's roommate.

He was Naruto's ex.