Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, why the hell would I be writing fanfiction about it?

A/N: A plot bunny came and bit my ass, refusing to let go until I'd cranked this story out. Four hours of insane writing when I should've been sleeping off my flu and going 'Merry Christmas' with all the other people out there when 12 midnight came around. But I didn't and this is the result. Hope it's not disjointed or anything, but what the hell. Enjoy.

Most italics flashbacks.

Missing Piece

Her feet barely make a sound as she steps across the silver-mirror roof of a skyscraper. Its winter time again, Christmas Eve, in fact, and when she breathes out she exhales white vapor, evanescent in the frigid air, here one second, gone the next. She looks up at the sky momentarily, wondering if it will snow this time, if the city will be covered in a white blanket that hides all pain, cruelty, and death of society, at least until morning comes and the snow is stained black and red by her hands and others like her again. Angling her katana she eases it into a more comfortable position on her back that will not hinder her should there be a surprise attack; she sits down, near the edge, a dark figure against the dark night.

She pulls her knees up to her chest; one would think this was due to the night's icy bite, but she does it out of habit really, not for the warmth it brings. She stares down, dispassionately at the night scenery below her, all twinkling lights and specks of people as they gather amongst the streets, laughing and singing contentedly. She can't remember how long ago it was, but she knows that there was a time when she was one of them, ignorant and still human, having a heart and emotions. She remembers that Christmas once meant something to her, but that memory is lost to her now, disconnected and fraying at the edges, like an old photograph. It doesn't matter to her anymore.

Her pale skin and flower petal hair stand out against her dark Hunter's uniform in comparison; the standard sleeveless black leather vest and skintight pants that cling to her legs. She hasn't brought a coat, but then again, she doesn't need it; she keeps herself warm by the minimal use of chakra that she surrounds her body with. As she watches the city busy in celebration down below, her thoughts run elsewhere, far from the present.

Snatches of memory dance at the edges of her mind, but elude her when she tries to clutch at them, teasing, taunting, and it's one too many times that she's failed to catch them, so she's learned to let them come when they come, and not try to catch them.

A memory hits her now, and she's overwhelmed by the backlash of emotion that comes along with it. The sudden flurry of whirling feelings that hit her makes her heart beat faster, and she gasps at the rawness of it all. Images slip and slide through her mind, and she catches glimpses of them.

Silver hair and mismatched eyes; one crimson, one onyx. She can't remember who they seem to belong to, but she knows that those eyes are important to her, and the strong sense of protectiveness makes her choke momentarily on her breath. She catches a glimpse of a knowing smirk on handsome masculine features, but she can't put a face to it. Whispers of longing, hope, passion rush through her ears as she hears his voice, but she doesn't know who it is.

And then, just as suddenly as the rush of memory has appeared, the images disappear again, leaving her with bitterness, cold and a phantom pain that aches painfully in her heart.

She can't understand the how and why of it, as she presses her right hand just slightly above her left breast, trying to will the pain away, but it refuses to leave, and just as she knows that the pain is not physical and cannot be removed so easily, she also knows that she lost something very important – probably the most important thing to her back – in her lifetime of shattered and for the most part, forgotten memories.

She tries to alleviate the pain by watching the crowds below, but it only seems to deepen as she catches sight of happy couples walking hand-in-hand through the throngs of the crowd, and her heart squeezes itself into a tighter knot. For some reason, she's trying to hold back tears that are burning behind her eyes and a lump of sorrow forces itself up her throat and threatens to overcome her entire being.

She swallows it back down, bats it away, but her eyes continue to follow the couple until they disappear from her sight as they turn a corner that remains invisible to her eyes despite her enhanced night vision. The edges of her lips turn up in a wistful parody of a smirk, and the pain in her heart throbs along with her heartbeat. She can't help but feel that something's missing, can't help feeling that there's a hole in her life that needs to be filled.

She wonders what's different this year as she stares at the glare of bright lights in the street that shine garishly back at her. Everybody's smiling, laughing, having a good time, and definitely in a Christmas mood, but she remains untouched, cold, and emotionless, like a statue standing alone in the crowds. She wonders why such a memory has decided to assert itself at this particular time of the year; she feels most vulnerable on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day itself, but she has never quite understood why. It's one of the more mind-boggling things in her straight-line routine of hunt, hunt, and hunt. It's the only lifestyle that she knows, or at least, can remember.

She can't remember the time before she joined the Hunters except for the random shreds of memory that pop up every now and then, and she has the feeling that she doesn't want to remember it. Now her lips curl into a derisive smile as she remembers some of the other memory shards she's experienced: terror, fear, and above all, helplessness. It's a complete contradiction to everything that she knows as a Hunter: you're as good as dead if you let fear blank your mind; prey if you run and let them hunt you down, and worse than dead if you don't die and you can't fight back.

But now, the new memory triggered offers her more than just a valley of jagged rocks and ice crystals that she could be impaled on; it shows her of caring, compassion and being loved, and she realizes that it's something that she's craving. The loneliness unleashed continues to tie her heart into painful knots, while she's trying to rip them apart, trying to return to the state she was in before the memory surfaced in her mind. She doesn't realize that it's a losing battle, or even that she's crying from the rawness of the overwhelming emotions until she feels a tear drop on her arm and reaches fingers to her cheeks to bring them away wet with tears. She's so lost in her silent reverie that she fails to sense that someone else is on the roof other than herself.

The sound of footsteps, and the unfamiliar presence close to her makes her snap out of her silent reverie as she freezes for a moment before she scrubs the tears away from her tears none-too-gently with one hand, reaching for her katana in the other. She turns warily towards the intruder as her grip tightens on the hilt of her katana, and feels her eyes widen slightly as she takes the sight of him in.

A strange feeling of familiarity seeps into her skin as her eyes travel upwards from the black boots he wears, bandages pulled taut against his legs that stop just below his knee. She continues the once-over, noting that he's wearing the same outfit as she is; her grip on the katana loosens itself as she recognizes the tattoo entrenched in the skin of his left arm, marking him as a Hunter from the organization that she's from. She's almost recovered from the shock of having another enter her territory so fluid-quietly when her eyes freeze on his face.

A black cloth mask covers the lower half of his face, shielding his features from the rest of the world that spans down his neck, where it meets with the collar of his Hunter's vest. She can see the clear outline of his lips through the mask as the moonlight shines down from above, and the unbidden thought of whether he has any scars or disfigurements under the mask creeps into her brain for a while before she quashes it. Her observation of his face continues, and the feeling of familiarity increases as her eyes meet his and some of the silver bangs that fall into his face.

Mismatched onyx and crimson eyes stare coolly back at her widened jade ones, and for a moment, they are the only two who exist in the world, neither making any movement or sound. The memory image overlaps with the man in front of her eyes and she feels the wave of emotion that crashes over her again; he is familiar to her, but she doesn't know him at all. The moment in time is broken when he strides forward, and she feels her body tense up without knowing why, then relax again as he walks past her and takes a seat near the edge of the building some distance away from her. He pays no attention to her, but stares down at the unsuspecting celebrators below, much like she had been doing before memory returned and he interrupted.

She glances at the silver mane, at the profile of his face before she returns to her seat, redirecting her eyes to the crowd. She feels unnerved by his presence at first, but finds herself relaxing ever so slowly as time rolls around them and the clock hand moves closer to 12. The pain in her heart has eased up, ever so slightly, and she wonders why this is so. She shifts uncomfortably as she feels his eyes on her every now and then, and she doesn't need to look to know that he's staring at her.

Something about him gets to her, but she doesn't know what it is. She's starting to get annoyed after he keeps doing the same thing for the next 35 minutes, and finally she snaps her head towards his gaze. To his credit, he doesn't back down at her killer stare and stares back at her; she can't read what's going on behind his eyes, and it annoys her even more. Inwardly she snarls; a complete an utter stranger (if you discounted her memories, that is), was cracking her ice control not even one hour after she had met him. And without even saying a word, to boot.

Neither of them back down from the stare, and she's at the end of her patience when he finally speaks.

"What?" The smooth baritone voice almost bowls her over. If she had been any other human girl, she'd have melted just by the sound of his voice. As a Hunter however, she scowls at him and her annoyance racks up a bit more as she spies what looks like a cocky smirk under the cloth mask that he wears.

"Why are you staring at me?" The words that leave her lips are clipped and straight to the point.

He shrugs in answer, silent for all of 2 seconds before he answers verbally. "You're more interesting to watch." His answer is casual, but something that momentarily appears in his eyes says otherwise.

She bristles at his casual remark. "I'm not some form of entertainment just because you're bored."

He tilts his head, and she knows he's definitely smiling now as the cloth of the mouth stretches against his lips. "I never said that. You did."

She opens her mouth to answer but is interrupted as the countdown towards Christmas Day starts below. What she wanted to say is lost in the noise as her attention leaves him momentarily to stare down into the throes of people on the streets. When she looks back to him again, she takes a step back, because he's suddenly standing so close to her, and she can practically feel the warmth radiating from his body. He steps towards her again, and she's rooted to the place, heart beating fast as she stares at the intensity in his eyes. It's as if he's seeing through her with his gaze, and she can't do anything to stop it from happening.

A spark of memory burns in her mind as it overlaps with the present, and the din of the crowd down below is drowned out as images assault her mind, and her silver-haired intruder pulls her flush against his body. She lifts her head uncertainly to meet his eyes.

"Five!"

She hears the sound of her laughter as she's running through the fields in spring, flower petals whirling in the air akin to poetic scenery, leaves crunching under her feet and she's playing 'tag' with the one she loves best. She squeals part laughter, part anticipation as his arms wrap around her and he tackles her to the ground, and she can feel him chuckling as he pins her down in the bed of flowers that cover the ground, and her heart sings love and adoration as the lines around his eyes crinkle in amusement when he smiles at her…

"Four!"

She can't tear her gaze from his even as she stands within the circle of his arms, limbs frozen while she feels one of his hands on her waist, holding her against him, and the other one is moving up her back, brushing against her neck, and his fingers are entangling themselves in her bubblegum pink hair. Her mouth is suddenly dry in anticipation and she's hypnotized…

"Three!"

It's another time, another place, and he's running fingers along her bare back as they lie together in bed, naked. She smiles like a cat that has gotten the cream as his lips replace his hands and she feels him sliding the silk sheets away from her body. Calloused fingertips run along the curve of her hip slowly, agonizingly before she turns in the bed to face him, stretching herself against his body, all female satisfaction as she feels him harden against her and the curl of desire that forms in her stomach at the familiar hungry glint that enters his eyes…

"Two!"

Her hands are pressing against his chest now, and she doesn't need to slide her hands under his vest to know that under it there are smooth planes of muscle, now and then adorned by a scar or two. She's completely caught by the spell he has over her, and she watches, enthralled as the hand in her hair relinquishes its grip, and moves towards his face. He hooks a finger into the cloth mask, and he's slowly bringing it down, down down…

"One!"

The gasps and moans elicited from their lovemaking engulf the room. He's covering her face in kisses repeatedly as he thrusts hard into her. Her head is thrown back in passion amidst the pillows and her face is flushed pink with exertion. He grunts as she claws her fingernails down his back, a request for him to move faster, harder. He smirks as he covers her lips and muffles an impassioned moan as he slides in and out of her faster, harder, wanting to bring her to the heights of her pleasure and to hear her gasp out his name as she climaxes. He knows he's almost there himself when she screams out his name and her muscles tighten around his shaft; he thrusts twice more into her before joining her in black oblivion, calling out her name brokenly as he comes.

"Sakura!"

"ZERO!"

She can barely take in the unblemished, handsome face under the mask before his lips crash down on hers demandingly, all unbridled passion and fire. She's in shock for a moment before she responds to him in kind, savage intensity and heat clashing as she yields her mouth to him, and they battle for dominance. It's only his firm grip on her waist that keeps her from sloshing into a puddle of passion, even as she realizes that her hands have entangled themselves in his silver mane of hair. All the while they are staring each other down still, never losing eye contact even as their mouths and bodies battle. The intensity of the kiss is burning her up, the last of her icy control cracking, all her walls brought down, but she doesn't give a damn anymore. All she wants is this moment, all she wants is this kiss.

"Merry Christmas!"

She can feel his eyes watching her and can practically feel the quirk of his lips in a smile as she unwraps his present to her eagerly, fingers moving quickly over the wrapping paper, even as she tries not to rip it all to pieces. Then the paper is finally off, and she feels him nuzzle her neck and he wraps an arm around her waist as she lifts the lid of the box. The silver locket she finds is not what she's been expecting at all, and she twists around in his arms to level him with a playful glare.

"You cheated". She accuses. He laughs in reply and kisses her instead.

"Merry Christmas, Sakura."

When they finally come up for air, their breaths mingle together as one, forming white vapour in the frosty night, chests heaving, fingers tightly entangled in each other's clothes and hair. Reality is coming back now in small doses, although the memories still linger; his eyes are still locked with hers as the broken pieces of his image reconnect themselves to form a full picture of him standing here in front of her, right here, right now. His name leaps forth from her lips, unbidden, and she remembers who he is.

"Kakashi." She breathes his name, and trembles with the emotions that come along with it. The emptiness in her heart has ebbed away, and the hole is already mending because of his presence. A sense of completeness wraps her in comfort, and she knows the missing piece of her has now been found. She knows him and his voice; his fingers and his touch; his hypnotizing eyes and smirking lips.

He smiles that familiar, yet strange crooked smile that echoes pain, and sadness and love. His long fingers run along her cheek before cupping her face, pulling her head close so he can smell her hair.

"Aa." He replies in confirmation, his eyes closing as he rests his cheek in her hair, relief and happiness squeezing his heart. After so long, after so many years of searching, he'd finally found her again. He pulls back to look into the jade eyes that brim with emotion, and he kisses the tears that fall.

"I told you I'd always come home, didn't I?"

She responds by pulling his head up towards her and meeting his lips hungrily in another kiss where she pours out all her emotions that have been held back for so long. He can read her through her lips, words insufficient when feelings are more than enough and he gives just as much as she does as they revel in each other's emotions.

She doesn't know how he found her, and she doesn't remember everything, or whether she will ever recollect all of her memories, but it doesn't matter anymore because all she needs of her past is him. He's all that she needs and they'll figure out something, somehow, some way. But for now, it's only him and her in this moment, and this kiss.

And for once, she's glad that it's Christmas.

A/N: Enjoyed it? Disliked it? Drop me a review to let me know.