A/N: I am endeavoring to conquer all the not-so-great stories I was so proud of three years ago and either revise them or rewrite them completely. The original version of this lacked a definitive perspective (for anyone who knows or cares what that is), a thin plot, and lyrics sprinkled every couple sentences that took away from the point of the story—thus, it was fed to the proverbial shredder and I started from scratch.

Anyway, about this version: I was originally inspired by the Maroon 5 song "She Will Be Loved" and the wonderful Silvershine's story The Window. This time around, I also took a little from this awesome country song called "Tomorrow" by Chris Young and Silvershine's story Nymph. I have striven to correct the previously stated flaws so I can once again look at this story with pride.

It happened one night.

And no, I don't mean the movie. But like the movie—whose own title is deceiving—everything between Haruno Sakura and I changed because of a few select nights.

It all started… well, one night. Coming home late from a mission, I was walking past the academy when I saw a dark shape lurking beside the tree. Stealing closer and drawing a kunai from my hip pouch, I crept up behind the tree and peeked around the bark. I was a little startled when I saw it was only Sakura sitting on the swing.

Replacing my kunai, I peeked at her with my left eye. Definitely the real thing; no transformations or doppelgangers. I thought she might like a little company so I walked forward and crouched beside her.

"Sakura-chan?" I said.

She raised her eyes and I was a little taken back at just how red and puffy they were. Wet trails slithered down her cheeks, glistening in the moonlight, and her lower lip quivered pitifully.

"Are you all right, Sakura-chan?" I reached up to thumb away a tear oozing down her face.

Suddenly she had my neck in a death-grip and sobbed loudly into my shoulder. I couldn't understand her garbled chatter as she clung to me, her entire body shaking with cries, so I stretched my arms to pat her back in what I hoped was a comforting manner. I've never been very good at handling weepy females, but it seemed to help as her words became clearer and her sobs dropped off.

"T-T-Takeo dumped me," she mumbled, sniffing noisily. "H-he said he didn't want to d-date a kunoichi. That it's t-t-too much trouble."

Was Takeo the redhead? No, Takeo had black hair and glasses. He was a civilian and worked in some teahouse across town—which, for the record, didn't serve very good tea. He and Sakura had been going out for about two months last I remembered… and he was already dumping her?

I cleared my throat, hoping she'd loosen her hold just a little, and asked hesitantly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Fortunately, I could feel her shake her head. "This is nice," she murmured, thankfully relaxing her tremendous grip so I could breathe a little easier.

After a moment I coughed again and eased back gently. "I'll walk you home," I said, rising and offering her my hands.

She nodded and tiredly slid her fingers into mine and I dragged her to her feet. She stumbled into me and I placed a hand on the small of her back to steady her. Once I was confident she wouldn't tip over, I removed my hand only for her to grasp it in her own. When I glanced down at her, eyebrow raised, she smiled weakly. "Helps keep me balanced," she said.

I shrugged and we started walking.

Dumping the contents of her purse into my cupped hands, Sakura picked through the objects looking for her house key. I took a minute to glance at the items.

A compact mirror. Two tubes of lipstick. A couple of crumpled tissues. A pack of bubblegum. Her I.D. Some lint that stuck to my gloves. A condom.

I could feel my face turning beet-red with shock and a tinge of horror. Sakura was too young to be having sex, wasn't she?

Well, argued the annoying voice in my head, she is eighteen. It's not like you were still a virgin then.

Unsurprisingly, the voice offered little comfort.

Sakura whispered, "Ah-ha!" and plucked the key from my palm, still oblivious to the fact I was going into cardiac arrest. She didn't notice until she had opened the door and was scooping her things back into the little bag. Her forehead wrinkled. "Are you okay, Kakashi-sensei?" she asked.

"Perfectly," I coughed. I nodded quickly, hoping she'd buy it. She didn't—I could tell by the disbelieving expression on her face—but she didn't pursue it.

Once my hands were free of everything but the pieces of lint, I turned to go when the pleading tone in her voice stopped me. "Do you want to stay for a while?"

I wasn't expected back for another day and it wasn't like I had anything better to do or someone waiting for me. And whether or not this would be the one of the biggest mistakes of my life… well, I'm still trying to decide for myself.

"If you don't mind," I answered. She nodded and swept me inside.

Sakura's apartment was similar to mine in that it was small and neat and there were dozens of weapons hidden all over. But it was painted a pale pink with frilly curtains and faintly smelled like perfume, whereas mine was still the same white it was when I bought it and usually smelled like dirty laundry or wet dog.

While I unsnapped my sandals and set them beside her assortment of shoes—she had seven pairs more than I did—she was slipping out of her jacket and hanging it on a hook behind me. When I straightened up and moved to drop my bag on the floor beside them, I started to ask where I could put it. But my eyes caught sight of her and all intelligent thought faded to silence as my bag dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, crushing a pair of frivolous high heels.

Now that we were out in the light, I could see that Sakura was wearing a strapless red gown whose hem barely hit her mid-thigh and left nothing to the imagination. The chunky white necklace with matching bracelet made her smile dazzling while her dress brightened her hair and made her eyes pop with color. All in all, she was nothing short of gorgeous.

"Kakashi?" I heard her say. How long had she been saying my name? "You all right?"

There was suddenly a lump in my thump, but I managed to swallow it down and say, "Fine." Was I going to say something else? I couldn't remember. When I looked at her again, I decided it probably wasn't important anyway.

She gave me another disbelieving look before turning and striding through a doorway. "Want something to drink, sensei?" she called.

"Water is fine." Shoving my hands in my pockets, I ventured onto the shaggy white carpet, my toes sinking in, as she came back with two glasses. Accepting the glass, I looked toward the door. "I probably should go home," I said. "Tsunade-sama will want to dispatch me again as soon as possible."

Her face fell. "Oh. Okay." I felt bad, but at the same time I felt extraordinarily awkward. The dress, the apartment, the mascara tears still staining her cheeks… it was all too much and I was ready to call it quits.

"I'll see you around, all right?"

She nodded and chewed her lip. "Can I have a hug before you go?"

It couldn't hurt. Opening my arms in a silent invitation, she stepped closer and embraced me tightly. For some reason, it felt… nice. She was a pretty girl after all.

When she was satisfied, she released me and allowed me to put on my sandals again. As I walked out the door, I glanced back at her and she waved. Her smile seemed forced but I wasn't really sure what to do. I waved back and closed the door on my way out.

The next few months were all right. Missions came and went and I saw Sakura around town occasionally. I made sure to wave and she seemed as cheerful as ever. I'd heard she'd picked up another boyfriend; this one worked in the Hokage tower and he was a nice enough guy even though I can't remember his name to save my life.

But then the same thing happened: like all her other boyfriends, he dumped her. During month three after what I labeled "The First Night," I found her crying again. This time it was tucked inside a booth at a bar.

"Sakura-chan?" She jerked at the sound of her name and looked at me with wide, frightened eyes. Her eyes were shining in the dim lighting and she was clutching a half-empty glass of amber liquid.

"You okay?" I asked, sidling up to the booth. Her lower lip quivered and she burst into tears—truly an episode of déjà vu. Sitting down beside her, I listened quietly as she explained how her latest love affair had fizzled out.

"I d-don't understand," she bawled. "What's wrong with m-me, Kakashi?"

"Nothing's wrong with you," I assured her firmly. "Clearly these guys are the ones with the problem."

"Then how come I'm the one who keeps getting dumped?"

"Because they're stupid, Sakura. They obviously can't recognize perfection when it's staring them in the face." Did I just say that? Since when had Sakura become perfect in my eyes?

Regardless, it seemed to help. She wiped her eyes and smiled. "Thanks sensei," she murmured.

I shrugged. "How about I walk you home?"

She nodded and I pulled her to her feet, her chest bumping against mine as she slid out of the booth. I think we both blushed, but it was hard to tell in the smoky bar. Letting her lean her head against my shoulder, I escorted her out of the bar and into the cool, clear night.

On any other night, Drunken Sakura might have been entertaining. She was giggly and touchy-feely and I'm sure she would've thrown herself at people she'd never consider while sober; Lee, for example, or perhaps Neji. But this was tonight and it was me she was throwing herself at. And I was struggling to decide whether I felt awkward or pleased by her attention. Guilt at my former student hitting on me never crossed my mind.

Just like before, she invited me inside her apartment and I helped her out of her coat. She was wearing that gorgeous red dress from before, looking just as radiant as the first time, and I had just as much difficulty tearing my eyes away.

"Do you wanna stay for a while, sensei?" she asked, slurring a little as she swatted her bubblegum hair off her bare shoulders.

I had no mission the next day. In fact, I had no plans for the rest of the week. Besides, was it really safe to leave her alone while she was drunk? Thank God for rationalizations…

"If you don't mind," I replied.

"Great!" she beamed. "I'm not really sleepy, so do you wanna watch a movie or something?"

I shrugged. What was the harm? "Just for a little while."

Flopping onto her soft pink couch, I watched her slide a disc into the player before sidling down beside me. Like she did when I walked her home, after about fifteen minutes she shifted closer and gently placed her head against my arm. It was nice.

And then the making-out started. Leave it to a teenage girl to pick a romantic comedy. But instead of feeling awkward as I know I should have, I felt a sudden, almost desperate urge to kiss her. I even turned to glance at her and found, to my surprise, she was staring up at me expectantly. Her lips were pursed and glistening and it was all I could do to restrain myself from grabbing her.

Gazing pointedly at the clock, I shuffled away from her and stood up. "I should probably get going Sakura-chan," I explained hurriedly. "Lots of important stuff to do tomorrow."

As before, she looked crestfallen. "I understand," she said, her expression saying she most clearly did not understand.

But what could I do? A miserable, vulnerable Sakura was bad enough. She wasn't supposed to cry—she's a tough, resilient little cherry blossom. But I was even more unprepared for a Sakura who seemed perfectly happy to let me take advantage of her. I had limits. I had restraints. I wasn't going to further damage a desperate, slap-happy drunk girl. That was just wrong.

So why was I having so much trouble convincing myself of that?

"I'll see you around, okay?" I said, moving to collect my shoes.

"Sure," she mumbled, standing up and following me to the door, her arms folded across her chest. "Kakashi?"

I had stooped over to strap on my sandals. "Hmm?"

"Thank you. For walking me home and everything."

I straightened. "Sure."

"It means a lot to me, you know. I feel safe when I'm with you."

"It's no problem."

She stared at me meaningfully. "You make me feel loved."

This girl was the queen of making slightly embarrassing, slightly touching, and mostly intriguing comments. "You should feel loved. You're a great girl, Sakura-chan."

"I'm glad you think so." As if that weren't enough, she bent forward and pressed her lips to the small patch of exposed skin beneath my right eye. She lingered so long I had time to inhale several breaths of her perfume—jasmine, I think—before she pulled away and bid me a cheerful farewell, shoving me out the door.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the wood paneling and remembering the fact that I never understood women.

The third and most crucial night occurred only a couple of weeks later. It was the same scenario—Sakura was cruelly abandoned by yet another sorry excuse for a human being and I happened to be around when she broke down. This time, it was under a streetlight.

It was raining and I was walking home, thankful I had remembered my umbrella to shield against the vicious downpour. Because of that, I was staring at the sidewalk instead of where I was going so I ended up walking right into Sakura and almost knocked her into a puddle.

Stretching an arm around her waist, I managed to save her from that icy fate and gazed down into her face. It wouldn't have mattered even if she had fallen in; she was soaked to the bone and shivering pitifully against me.

"Sakura? You're wet," I said intelligently.

"Yeah," she mumbled. "It's r-raining."

"Need some company?"

"If you d-don't mind s-sharing your u-umbrella."

"Of course not." Handing it to her, I quickly shrugged out of my vest and draped it over her shoulders before clamping her to my side in an effort to send some warmth back into her bluish skin. "What are you doing out here in this weather?" I asked as we started walking.

"S-s-same old story," she stuttered. "A-another failed d-d-date."

"You seem to have a lot of those."

She shrugged helplessly, hopelessly. "I g-guess I just attract l-losers."

I didn't like seeing this side of her. It was so depressing. Where was the tough little kunoichi with the bruising fists Tsunade-sama had built from virtually nothing? This wasn't her. This was a weepy, jaded young woman who looks devastated when I tell her I can't stay. When had she changed? Could I have stopped it? Was there some moment during our acquaintance when I could have squashed this part of her and I just missed it?

Or perhaps I didn't miss it. Maybe I had never noticed. Maybe I had ignored it all along.

"You don't just attract losers," I retorted firmly. "Every man in town is half in love with you."

She gave a bitter laugh. "There's no need to patronize me, sensei. I'm not twelve anymore."

"I know you're not. That's why I'm telling you this." I squeezed her shoulder. "You've got to be one of the sweetest and most intelligent girls I know. You're certainly the loveliest. Why wouldn't every man fall in love with you at first sight?"

Even now, I'm still unsure what motivated me to say that. I wasn't lying just to make her feel better; every word I said was true. I was more curious about when I had begun to believe them.

I didn't even notice we had stopped outside her apartment building, let alone walked there. But then she was gazing up at me with sorrowful jade eyes and I couldn't breathe and the next thing I knew, her arms were winding around my neck and she was pulling my head down to kiss me. And it was exquisite.

"Do you want to come up?" she murmured against my lips. How could I resist?

Although the best part of that night was definitely the sex, peeling off her drenched red dress was certainly a close second. That superb piece of scarlet cloth hugged every beautiful curve of her body perfectly; I only hoped it didn't suffer any permanent damage from the rainwater.

Lying with her in her soft downy bed, tracing light circles on her arm, I considered the consequences of my actions. I wasn't committing a crime; Sakura was no longer my subordinate and hadn't been for several years, so guilt of that nature didn't come.

But what would our passionate act mean to her? Would this just be a one-night stand, something to be forgotten in the morning and never spoken of again? Or was it supposed to be the beginning of relationship between us? Was I even ready for that?

In truth, I had just wanted to make her feel better. I will not deny that the thought of making love to my ex-student hadn't crossed my mind since this weird series of events began, but I had never planned on going through with it. And then she kissed me and she just looked so sad, thinking that nobody loved her. It was killing the both of us to watch the devastation spread across her features each time she was cast off irreverently by another loser. By sleeping with her, I suppose I was hoping to show her that she was wrong; someone did in fact care for her.

And that someone was me.

Sleeping together became our new twisted routine. Sakura kept ending up in bad relationships, and sometimes the loneliness became too much and I would seek her out instead. Plus she was fantastic in bed.

I didn't mind being 'friends with benefits.' Depressed Sakura was too heart-wrenching to see. Desperate Sakura wasn't much better. At least Passionate Sakura was happy, something she was becoming less of as she went from one bad boyfriend to the next.

Finally I asked her point-blank why she kept picking jerks. "I just don't see the appeal," I said. "They treat you like trash."

She shrugged in my arms. "They told me I was pretty, I guess," she mumbled.

I rolled my eyes. "I've been telling you that for years."

"But you're my best friend!" she protested. "I mean, next to Naruto and Ino and maybe Sai…"

"I get it, Sakura."

"You're just… different." Rolling her head, she gazed up at me and fingered my ragged bangs. "I'm happy when I'm with you, Kakashi."

This was too much. I didn't want to think about it, about what it would mean if she said those three words right now. About how I would feel if she said them. So I bent my head and kissed her, swallowing further protests or any other confessions she felt like sharing. It worked. She was sufficiently distracted and we endeavored onto other, more fulfilling ventures.

Yet the thought continued to bother me. What if I hadn't cut her off? What if she had something else to say and I hadn't waited? I was sure it was just paranoia; Sakura couldn't possibly feel anything more for me than she did for Naruto and Sai and Tenzo. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling.

We did little else together—although we hadn't exactly set any boundaries regarding the extent of our relationship, neither of us was willing to discuss it and so didn't pursue anything further—until one day she up and vanished. Naruto later informed me that she had found a new boyfriend who seemed a little classier than previous candidates, but that didn't stop me from puncturing my palms with my own fingernails when I heard the news.

"You okay sensei?" Naruto asked as I calmly dabbed away the blood. "You seem a little… tense."

"I'm fine," I replied shortly—the cuts stung. "So how did you find out about Sakura-chan's latest catch?"

"Well, I saw her holding hands with this guy who treated me in the hospital once," he explained, slurping up another mouthful of ramen. "I think he's a medic."

I rolled my eyes. "Brilliant deduction, Naruto-kun. Did his place of work give him away, or was he wearing a uniform too?"

Naruto's brow creased severely. "God sensei, just 'cause you're a genius doesn't mean you can be a jerk," he snapped. "I thought you'd be happy for her."

I had started breaking a pair of chopsticks in splinters when the guilt set in. "I'm sorry, Naruto-kun," I sighed. "I… I don't know where that came from."

"No need to get so jealous, sensei," he continued, giving me his profile. "I only give her a month at most."

"I'm not jealous," I retorted. "And why only a month? I thought you said he was nice."

Now he rolled his eyes at me. "When's that ever stopped them before?"

He was right. When had that stopped them before? Just like the fact that she was beautiful and perfect had never stopped them from dumping her…

Standing up and dropping a handful of coins on the counter to cover the cost of my drink, I reached out to pat Naruto's shoulder.

"I give him two," I said.

But she was back at my doorstep within a week. When I opened the door clad only in a towel—I'd jumped out of the shower to answer it—there she was in a tanktop and shorts, leaning against the doorframe.

"Hi Kakashi," she said, her eyes traveling up and down my body. For some reason I felt self-conscious, although I wasn't sure why—it's not like she hadn't seen me naked before. "Are you busy?"

"Not really," I said. "Would you like to come in?"

Rolling her eyes, she punched me lightly in the shoulder and sidled past into the cool darkness of my apartment. "When did you become so formal, Kakashi-senpai?" she said teasingly, flopping on my couch.

Threading my fingers through my hair, I quietly shut the door and came to stand beside her. "Sakura-chan," I began slowly, "we need to talk."

"About?" Her question was casual, but there was a hint of defensiveness in her tone.

"About our arrangement."

"I didn't know something was wrong with it."

"You have a boyfriend, Sakura."

She looked away—clearly a guilty conscience. "Who told you?" she murmured, staring at her lap.

"Naruto."

"I guess the cat's out of the bag, huh?"

"Sakura, I didn't start sleeping with you so you could cheat on your boyfriends."

"Then why did you do it?" she snapped suddenly. "Are you sure you just didn't want to get in my pants?"

I sighed. "I did it because you were unhappy."

"Right," she replied sarcastically. "Like I haven't heard that line before." Clambering to her feet, she brushed past me angrily and tried to leave, but I caught her arm. "Let go of me."

"Sakura, you can't come running to me every time you feel sad," I said, tightening my grip on her wrist. "That's what your boyfriend's for, and last time I checked I don't fall into that category."

The anger was still there, anger and a look of betrayal, but there was something else lingering in her eyes—the same devastation I had seen after all her other bad boyfriends and break-ups. I wondered how I could put her through the same pain I had been trying to eradicate in my own misguided fashion. But it had to be done.

"You need to go to him when you're upset," I continued, "not me. That's what he's there for."

Her lower lip quivered. "But…"

"Sakura, we can't forge a romantic relationship. We're friends, remember?" I looked down. "And I don't function well in any other role."

Her jade eyes welled up with tears and she tore her arm away from me. "Whatever," she grumbled and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the frame shook and splintered.

Sinking onto the couch, I buried my face in my hands. "What I have I done?" I murmured.

I don't mean to be so melodramatic. But the thing is, I think I started to care about Sakura a lot more than you're supposed to for a former student or even a friend. The entire time I had been worried about her building attachments that would collapse as soon as pressure was applied, when clearly I should've been more concerned with myself.

I was the one who had become attached. I was the one who had fallen in love with her.

After a couple of months everything simmered down, including my infatuation. That's what it was, I decided—a mere infatuation resulting from spending too much time with my pretty pink-haired student. And even though I sometimes felt a resilient pang of longing when I would see her around the village, particularly if her arm was looped through a young man's and she was grinning broadly, they eventually ceased to exist and everything returned to normal again.

But nothing can ever remain normal. History is a cycle, doomed to repeat itself. And so it did one chill October night when I opened my window and heard the sound of soft sobbing down on the street.

Peering over the ledge, I was not surprised to see Sakura in the red dress I had first seen her in, trudging down the street at an achingly slow pace and rubbing her eyes.

"I can't believe that dress is still intact," I called out, resting my arms on the sill. Her head darted around briefly before she located the sound and looked up. "It still looks beautiful on you."

Even in the dim light, I could see her cheeks darken. "Thanks," she mouthed, so quiet I couldn't hear her.

"Another bad break-up?"

She shrugged. "It just… wasn't working out."

"I see. You know," I tapped my chin in mock contemplation, "I'm not busy, and you're not busy…"

"Get to the point Kakashi."

"Maybe you'd like to come up, Sakura-chan." Her eyes widened and I smiled. "I'll make you feel beautiful."

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded and bit her lip. "I'd like that," she said and headed for the door.

What a crazy, crazy world we live in.

A/N: So what'd you think? I hope you enjoyed this new version (then again, if you didn't read the original there's nothing to compare it to, but I hope you liked it anyway). Writing in Kakashi's perspective is hard; I just don't think like a man. Stay tuned!