First story...I'm nervous...but I really wanted to give a shot at writing a Kakashi and OC story after being inspired by one in particular :) I really hope this isn't horrible if there are any mistakes or OOC or Mary Sue please tell me constructively and I'll try to fix it! Oh and I don't own Naruto or the picture.

Chapter One

The Return of the Missing

"And we're just going to all circle back?"

The man reclined back as he was unsure how to answer. He crossed his arms and stared out the window of the hotel. His usual grinning face was somber, his dark eyes intent and the red marks down his face unmoved by his still expression. He did not reply, for he was not sure how to.

"Don't you think it will overwhelm your sensei a bit?" the young woman continued to ask, but she was lying on the plush red sofa, her legs peaking out of a breezy kimono-style robe and hanging over the arm of the chair. Her long, dark hair was in a disarray, stuck under or spread over her arm that was beneath her head and her barely opened eyes held no interest in the matter, her voice only casually curious. "Two of his students returning, his former ANBU the same time all of the higher ups are going to arrive?"

"There will be a lot of people" he said distractedly, "after all, it's just not Naruto."

The green of her eyes peeked out from her sleepy manner as her attention became captivated by the mention of the late Fourth Hokage's son. "Oh?"

"The last Uchiha in Konoha," the Sannin said with that same tired, wise tone of a man who had seen too much, "the jinchuriki of Suna, a Hyuga prodigy, among others."

"Well that does sound interesting," she murmured and slowly pulled herself up as she rubbed her eyes. She didn't know how long she had spent in this village, but she wouldn't mind leaving. It was a village famed for its talented seamstress and although she wore a handmade one herself – upon insistence by its owner, not to mention a certain beauty-appreciative Sannin – but she wasn't used to peace, she was used to violence and action although it only got her so far... "Am I still declared a missing-nin?"

"Of course not," he said and slowly, life started to pour back into his face evident from the gleam in his eyes and the pull of a grin that she had seen so often over the past three years. "Besides," she was pretty sure she heard ceremonial tapping and a little string instrument in the background and she had to try not to roll her eyes as his hand shot forward, "you are with Jiraiya – the Great Toad -"

"Save it." she abruptly cut him off and picked off an invincible lint that had no business being on silk garments, "save it for when you meet your God son for the first time."

When Jiraiya suggested they came at different times, Kira did not take offence to it. After all, when she left the village, Kira Sasaki left as a missing-nin, only to have that title changed several weeks after once the Third Hokage received a letter from the Sannin about her whereabouts not that it didn't stop the random criminals from trying to cut off her head and bring it back for a reward. Those times were...darker times. Nonetheless upon her arrival back to the village, she was not surprised to see four ANBU flank around her as soon as she stepped foot on the borders in the forest.

She felt a roll of nostalgia uncurl in her stomach at seeing the uniform that had been like a second skin to her all those years ago. The white animal mask, the dark sturdy fabric, the grey of the armor and the sword on their backs. Over the years, Kira dropped her identity as an ANBU slowly one by one. First and foremost with the mask, followed immediately by the chest armor until each piece of uniform disappeared and the only thing that tied her to the ANBU was the long, dark gloves but with the metal plated across the back of her hands. The man in front of the squad stilled when he saw her and she recognized that voice immediately. The familiarity of a shinobi was almost refreshing enough to give her a smile.

"Kira?" the man said hesitantly. His squad shifted, but they did not pull out their weapons. Although she looked like any other kunoichi, they all knew that she was a particular one, even if they were not fully aware of who she was. And that was because the ANBU of her days were most likely dead, or they were of the upper, more experienced squad that would be carrying out missions, not doing patrols.

"Tenzo" she said and he was astounded to here her voice after nearly five years, "how may I help you?"

They were expecting many new visitors to watch the Chunin exams this year, of course, for the same reasons that Jiraiya and she decided to return. But it had never crossed Tenzo's mind that Kira Sasaki would as well, he was sure that she would deviate for good and carry on a new life elsewhere. He knew that she technically was not a missing-nin but she was a rogue and she had left the village so, therefore not a Konona kunoichi, so he was unsure of how to proceed. After a moment longer of staring at her, he stepped aside just slightly but that was enough of an indication for her to disappear and enter the village.

But she was welcomed the same way as before but with another squad, and this one informed and expecting her. Just the same, her boots scuffled on the dusty, cracked ground of Konoha and they surrounded her. This time, she sighed and before they could get a word out, she held up both her hands.

"I'm not new at this," she said in a resigned voice, "I know how to get there myself." And although she meant it as a sign of going along with the protocol, she did not wait before she vanished into thin air once again and made her way to the Intelligence Division.

Oh, she's pretty.

He paused.

Nope, never mind. Jiraiya sighed and snuck back out of the bathhouse and into a pub, ordering sake in large quantities. It had been awhile since he was at Shushuya and drinking alone did not feel right. But it didn't matter and in a neat flick of the wrist he downed a glass and leaned back, thinking about all that is to be done here.

He didn't like being in Konoha without Orochimaru, he thought distractedly, or without Tsunade. It didn't feel like home after all, home was where there were people thinking about you and he had nothing left for him here except for the old man, but he was too busy running a village for a drink with his former student. That thought dulled him even more...memories of the past and Team Hiruzen...

He took another drink.

So instead he thought about Kira, about the stories she would tell. Looking at girls may have been research, but Kira was his go-to for dialogue and interaction that made Icha Icha not just any smut novel. His own experience was in it, but it did not have that raw emotion to it that her stories had made it more than smut.

Because, of course, he was well aware it was smut. But it was a meaningful, successful one.

And the blurrier his mind became the more he wondered about who the lucky bastard it was that Kira had loved so passionately for that short period of days that would inspire years of new stories even if she had not known it was love at all. "Geez," he sighed, staring at the empty glass, "kids." With a shake of his head he poured himself another glass and another and another until he could not even remember why he was back in the village in the first place.

Kira cringed as she took a step out of the dark confinements of the Intelligence building, shielding her eyes that were sensitive to all the light that poured with her right arm.

Usually she left interrogations in a horrible mood, or in a boastful one when she was completely innocent of any accusations. Now after almost give years of being MIA and not killing a single person, she left feeling exactly the same as she walked in, and that was utterly indifferent. If anything, she was tired and her thoughts were a bit slow or repetitive. Although Inoichi was able to look through her memories, he could not read her mind specifically to foretell the future which led to a round of bothersome questions.

"And where does your allegiance lie?"

"To Konoha, as it always had." Pause. "That didn't change."

"Yet you defected the night of the Uchiha massacre."

"Yes."

"You admit that you took part in it?"

Silence. And then, "we all know that it was only Itachi involved." She didn't mention that she had been friends with the Uchiha, she didn't think it.

He was quieted by the strange coolness in her voice. "And your reasons for deviating would then be what?"

"I no longer wanted to be used."

"But you have returned."

"Yes."

"To resume your ANBU role?"

"No."

"Then for leisure? For the chunin exams?"

"Yes." And knowing what he was going to ask next she said without missing a beat, "I want to see if the only survivor grew up well."

At that the blonde man leaned back and sighed. He touched his forehead and then slowly he got up and unlocked the chains at her ankles, her wrist and as he did so she heard the sound of chains dropping and his voice saying -

"You know," a strange tone, "Kakashi Hatake is his mentor."

"Yes." She rubbed her wrist, red and raw from being squeezed by metal for an hour as she was dragged around through uneven, bump underground tunnels until she reached the private room used for ANBU interrogation, "but that means nothing." Nothing at all.

She rubbed her eyes again, wanting nothing more than silence now just to settle in. She looked around, finding a Training Ground around the corner and lazily walked over.

She heard the sound of children laughing as they played and the occasionally sharp sounds of blades connecting but everything here sounded...peaceful. And it was strange because when she left Konoha all she heard was silence as death fell over the Uchiha clan – but that was in the past and as soon as that memory popped up, she pushed it back down and collapsed onto a bench. She hated thinking about that night. She kicked her legs over it, one hand on her stomach and the other arm over her face to cover her eyes from the unwelcoming light.

And just as easy as she repressed the memory, she blocked out the noise of bystanders and her eyes fell shut.

Six ANBU members dead. Just like that. Dropping like fleas from the hands of a scum like Kabuto Yakushi. Simply the thought of six of the most highly trained, specialized shinobi in all of Konoha dying so easily in a matter of minutes sickened Kakashi Hatake.

It would be condescending to say that they were dropping their expectations of the Black Ops but he reminded himself that it was not because of the squad but because of Kabuto's skill. He had to tell himself that and yet the lingering gratitude of his departure from the special assassination and tactical squad three years ago remained.

It had been shortly after Kira Sasaski's leave from the ANBU and was declared a missing-nin.

And he, of course, had replaced the young woman as squad leader over the squad that was famed for a perfect succession rate...and they were depended to carry that out when he was told to hunt her down but he had declined that mission. In no way could he ever imagine Kira, a girl that he had been friends with throughout his ANBU career standing opposite to him on the battlefield. To see those flat green eyes, hair in the wind, slightest part of her lips as she noticed him -

He didn't want to think about that and as habitual as it was to breathe, he wandered aimlessly and his hand went into his pocket to retrieve a small, hard cover red book and just as quickly he was already lost in the words.

"Tsuki – don't leave me!" The tall, dark haired man reached out to grab the beautiful women by her slim, bare waist for the silk robe she had been wearing that was once held up by a slip of silk had fallen loose, "I know that I was a fool, but how could I possibly be anything but completely in love with you?"

The ivy-coloured hair woman had tears brimming her amber eyes, and although she had been so angry at him, so turn with frustration towards this man and yet..

"I can't," she whispered, "I can't."

And she fell into her arms, and the only sounds she made were sighs and moans as his mouth ran down the curve of her neck, his hands slipping underneath the flimsy material and the tips of his fingers tracing each inch of skin setting each nerve on fire. He felt her body arch towards him and he was convinced that -

The tip of black boot.

...in that moment...

Lean, strong legs.

...he was sure...

His eyes had still not left the pages but the colour on his periphery was so distinct that he slowed down, just to make sure that he was not seeing it: hair so dark without even the slightest shade of brown, creamy alabaster skin and...

...that he loved her.

And the very same dark green eyes that haunted him for the past five voice felt hollow and although he was now twenty six, it cracked as if he was still a teenage boy. "Kira?"

And that brings the end of my first story ever!