Disclaimer: This work is in no way affiliated with Maasashi Kishimoto or the Naruto franchise. If I had any stake in Naruto, I would kindly put in word to not milk the series dead. *Especially side eyes 8 canon episodes of shippuden this year* Please enjoy.
-Prologue-
Colour me Lonely
"In position."
What the? The Konoha-nin buckled, surprised by none other than himself. In position?
The slight spasm of movement rustled the leaves upon the high branch he was perched on, and his one eye twitched in annoyance. But the few leaves that fell were botched with autumn's touch: not unnatural enough to draw suspicion. The target was still some way away, too engrossed in kicking up undergrowth to cover his trail to notice.
Still, he was taken aback by sheer stupidity, and if it happened to be a competent ninja he was tracking, the thought would have cost him.
In po-sition!
He mimicked again, with a roll of his eyes. It was funny—the voice in his head was some sticky lampoon that practically dripped of disdain: one that would've gotten a few good laughs from uptight ANBU, even as they gritted their teeth. Almost funny enough for him to laugh at himself.
Not with himself. At. He didn't.
It had been more than a year since the dissolution of team 7, the departure of Sasuke to Orochimaru, (Ah, problem children just warmed his cold heart) and Naruto to Jaraiya. Hatake Kakashi traced the man's movement as he neared, double checking, triple checking his description. He watched almost daintily, searching for any visible weapons, an immediate threat.
120m.
Since then, Copy-nin Kakashi had been let off—what the good ol' ANBU had less-than-glamourously dubbed—'genin-sitting duty,' and he had rejoined the general forces. Soon after, he'd been thrust back into the daring dangers of solo missions.
100m.
Solo missions were fine. Solo missions were his heyday. But the seams of 'sensei-ing' frayed quicker than that of leading units of trained ANBU assassins. Kakashi had grown too accustomed to giving the mark, signing instructions.
In position? There was no one to steady here, no one to alert, no one to order.
80m. Closing in.
No one to back him up. Not even some genin to show off to.
50m.
No need for him to keep track of four pairs of arms and legs, including his own, to match up to an overly elaborate, group-devised plan, because 'teamwork.' He always stressed that.
Kakashi stood from his crouch, curling a finger around a kunai. His chakra hastened at will, and he tore his eyes off the target a moment, skimming the surroundings once more.
All units clear.
Wait—all units? Haah.
He'd calculated it precisely. In a short moment, Kakashi would step over the edge of the trunk, and there would only be an 11m free fall from copy-nin to rogue-nin. Nice. Simple. He lifted his forehead protector, pupils contracting in his red eye. He shut it.
20m.
Gee, you like to take your sweet time, Mr.
The scrawling handwriting on the black envelope handed to him announced: A rank rogue nin. Might put up a good fight in the end.
6m.
He'd factored in the delay time of his fall. Kakashi retracted his chakra from the soles of his feet, and with a slight nod to no one, he leaned leisurely over the edge. The world lurched forward; and the skies were the ground, the grounds, the sky. The wind siphoned back his hair and howled past his ears, rendering him deaf. It stung his right eye, but he kept it clenched open, zeroing in on the exact pressure points to strike, where best to draw blood.
Draw blood?
It wouldn't come to that, would it?
His right eye snapped closed; his sharingan ripped open. Kakashi let go of the kunai in his hand, fully aware that he'd hit the floor faster than it would.
1m.
He didn't suspect a thing, the bastard. Kakashi clasped two gloved hands on his shoulder, and the rogue-nin startled to life, outstretching a hand to his shoulders. But it was nothing more than dumb reflex, and Kakashi had the momentum of the fall on his side. He swung his body down, veering to bring the full force of the fall into a kick to the back. In a short, deft motion, Kakashi jerked his right hand forward, catching the kunai he'd let go in mid-air over the man's head. Then, only centimetres separated stone-cold kunai, from heat-radiating head. The man was pinned down by Kakashi's knee, face pressed into the dirt. Kakashi lifted his brows, satisfied, and bought the blade to the rogue's neck.
"Shigekura Monoe. The sand have tracked you for a long time. You're under arrest."
"What the f—you're not the sand?"
"No. Konoha, at your service." He dipped his head lazily.
"Ko..noha? Fancy that. And look at me, all geared up to take on some Gaara-level, sand assassin." Talkative, this one.
"Buut you still failed to sense me." Kakashi added thoughtfully.
"Great minds think alike. I'm disappointed about that too. I'm distraught. Imagine the pay cut these guys all get."
What?
The shadows beneath the trees writhed alive, and they slunk out: a slew of faces covered by the same, black mask, sides armed neatly with the same, hooked kunai. Twenty or so odd men circled Kakashi and the apparently, fabulously-rich rogue nin.
Ah. Nothing like a bout of angry bone-breaking to get over your post-teaching loneliness.
Pathetic.
Notes:
Thanks,
Last Kakashi fic for the year! I've five chapters planned. I just finished editing this and...who hurt you, Kakashi? Geez I made him so bitter. Takes place between the two year time-skip. No, Kakashi is not part of the ANBU, he's just taking very big missions.
Reviews keep me going, one or two words would be fab.
-earl