She couldn't say with any certainty when she had started. She couldn't even comprehend why she did. She had no control of the puzzling and altogether improper thoughts that danced their way through her head, taunting her. Perhaps it had started when she first saw him; the age difference was blaringly obvious then. She, a flat chested little sprite and him a mountain of muscle and experience shrouded in mystery.
It was conceivable that it had begun when they trained together. But then again it was more her helping him. She would be the weight upon his back as he did his mind blowing push-ups to ridiculous numbers with surprising ease. It was ironic; she was dead weight with improvised use. Just like in the team.
Everyone brought something to the table, all save Sakura. Poor ungifted Sakura. The one to be burdened by, to be saved, to be protected, anything but useful, never was she that. Maybe that was why she stayed out of the two boy's feuds that erupted daily in the form of competitions. She couldn't compete. That could be why she stayed back with Sensei and was the useful dead weight. It gave her a purpose.
She would play with his hair as he did the push-ups, there was little else to do besides think and that led down dangerous paths. Paths better left alone lest she get lost, tangled in the briars that would surly snatch her up and devour her.
She loved the feel of it, his hair. It was coarse, long, and seemed to defy gravity. The feel of it threaded through her fingers as she combed through it dexterously was wondrous. She would twist it into sections, braid it, or just see how many directions she could possible get it to go giggling all the while. Kakashi didn't seem to mind, to much. She could tell he didn't really mind though, he always asked her to be his weight when he could have just as easily asked Naruto, Sasuke, or even gotten an actual weight.
Sakura was good at distinguishing feelings. She excelled at that. Sure, it had taken a bit longer to figure Kakashi out as he had that damnable mask on not to mention his conversation skills when he was the subject of discussion was roughly equivalent to that of, oh say, a rock. A very stubborn rock. However she wasn't the second smartest student in her class for nothing, not to mention she was most likely the only one that paid avid attention in history class.
She knew the basics about his father, his clan, his past. No details, nothing crucial but the fact was she knew more than most. It helped that she had chanced upon him at the memorial stone. She knew why he was late. This could have lended to what had ensued.
Their paths diverged for a while, when team seven broke, shattered, so did she. Sakura had lost a great many things in her life but team seven hurt the most. She tried to keep it together; she tried to rise above it. She became the Hokage's apprentice. Sakura learned a great many things under her tutelage. Self respect, strength, prowess in battle, knowledge, and so much more. So very much more.
When she saw him again, reading his porn as always it wasn't so one sided. She was no longer a flat chested sprite but a budding woman no more a burden. He, he was still the same and that was the most comforting thing in the world.
"Let's train Kakashi-Sensei!" She implored him with her eyes. With a small shrug he accepted. Sakura was overjoyed. Finally she could show him she wasn't the same helpless girl she once was, this was her chance and there was no way she was going to screw it up. Walking in companionable silence she tugged her gloves on as they meandered back to the training grounds, their training grounds. As soon as they entered the grounds, their mini Mecca Sakura was off launching herself into the foliage, watching him just as always. Just as she needed to do. He stood there slowly, delicately, lovingly closing his book. Good, he's taking this seriously. He deemed her at least worthy enough to put his book away unlike for the bell test, patronizing, he had loved to get them riled up.
With lithe movements she inched closer hiding every scrape of chakra she had. With speed honed over the years she launched herself at him calculating the chances of actually hitting him, not likely. At the last second she gathered her chakra, a fraction of a second later she released it with explosive results. A crater is formed and she's the cause. She can almost feel his lone eye grow large in astonishment. She can almost hear the question he asks himself. "When did she get so powerful?" She revels in it. It's her dirty pleasure; it's what makes all the work she put into training these years worth it.
They fought and ultimately she lost but that is irrelevant, the point has been proven, she's no longer weak, useless. "Be my weight?" There's something more to his request, a second question that's begging, shrieking to be answered.
"Always." She answers without hesitation, he gives his trademark smile. Rainbow shaped eye and a slight pull on the black fabric that makes it all the more significant, he's actually smiling. He drops down in the traditional push-up stance and she delicately climbs on squirming into a more comfortable position that will allow her to play with his hair.
Nostalgia, the moment reeks of it filling her senses and she can't say she doesn't like it. She traces patterns on his scalp that even she doesn't know; she runs her hands through his hair marveling at it anew. Eventually he stops and she rolls off lying next to him and they make idle conversation discussing the recent happenings.
Suddenly before she can control it she interrupts the casual comfortable flow of conversation. "Thank you." It's a simple statement, heinously vague. He regards her with his coal black eye questioningly.
"You gave me a purpose." He still looks at her watching as she averts her gaze to the grass that she tugs up separately then shreds it down to nothing before starting again with the next. "You gave me something to work for." It's addressed to him but she has a feeling the grass heard the confession better.
He flips onto his back scanning the clouds in contemplation. It seems out of his nature to be so thoughtful, so wistful but then maybe it isn't. "I'm sorry." He says his gaze still fixed to the clouds. It's her turn now to be confused; it shows clearly on her face. Inching closer she waits for him to elaborate. What could he possible mean?
"I never was a good Sensei to you." He sighs heavily as if instead of relieving pressure from the admission he now has a weight on his chest pushing the air out. Maybe both declarations are true, but then maybe both are false. Black and white blur to grey.
With a small shake of her head she responds pleasantly, "I always thought you were perfect." With a small blush she goes further. "Still do." Before a more rational part can take over she leans over and kisses him. It's quick and blocked by fabric but that's extraneous, what does matter is that for a second their breathe mixes. It was sudden and feather light but she doesn't think his eye could get any bigger if he tried. Giving a small giggle she rolled away face flushed and before he had a chance to grasp what was going on she was gone leaving both her voice and scent behind.
"Bye Kakashi." Sakura had always been good at telling emotions and if she was right this particular time she couldn't wait until the next time she saw him.
Well that's my contribute to the awesomely taboo SkauraxKakashi pairing. I originally wanted to do a small little thing maybe three hundred words, I ended up with over one thousand three hundred. It's funny how things work out. –Cloey Marie-
Updated 2/24/07 Just removed the last two sentences which had been bothering me. I like the ending better this way