Seven Days
Chapter Two
Day One
The night was rough.
It was difficult sleeping on a damp-smelling mattress with an empty stomach and a full mind – and Kakashi's chainsaw-like snores probably didn't help matters. The lack of a clock or watch had also driven Sakura partially insane. Unable to tell the time or guess how many hours were left until daybreak had to be some new form of torture. So in between kicking Kakashi in the leg to try and keep the volume of his snores to a minimum, she was smashing her head against her musty foam pillow and weeping in sheer frustration.
By the time the sky began to lighten, Sakura was too exhausted to even move. Kakashi eventually stopped snoring as his level of sleep changed, and Sakura seized the brief reprieve to catch some shuteye.
It seemed that no sooner had she nodded off than the breakfast call woke her up.
"Breakfast!" called an irritatingly cheerful guard as he wheeled a trolley past. He dumped two bowls of what looked like liquidated sawdust quite unceremoniously through the bars of her cell before moving off to the next one.
"Wait!" Sakura sleepily staggered to her feet and pressed her face to the bars. "What about my morning wash? I need to wash my teeth and brush my face and when do I get my straightening iron back?"
"All male prisoners have cell breaks between ten and eleven o'clock. Women; between eleven and twelve. You'll have to wait till eleven if you want to use the washroom, miss." The guard continued on his way.
Sakura sunk back onto her bed and gave her breakfast a look of pure revulsion. She may have been starving, but she would no more eat that crap than she would her own shoe. Had she had her shoes, she may have started gnawing on them.
Crawling back under her blanket, Sakura heaved a weary sigh. She glanced across at Kakashi's bunk, trying to see if he was awake yet… but instead she found herself blinking at an empty bed.
"Good morning."
Sakura, skin crawling in dread, looked up at the ceiling. Beaming down at her was her former sensei, looking completely mellowed out in his upside-down meditative pose. His hair hung straight down in a strange array of white, which (if this was a regular morning routine) explained a lot about its frequent gravity-defying style.
"I don't see what's so good about it," she grumbled, rolling over to pull the blanket over her head. "And I'm not talking to you."
"Mm?"
"You snore. Horribly. God, I almost hung myself just to get away from you."
"A lot of people say that," he intoned absently. "Did it keep you up?"
"I think it kept the whole cellblock up," she retorted.
"Sorry about that," he said with a distinct lack of sincerity. He stretched his arms down towards the floor and cracking his shoulders with a sigh. "I don't normally snore. Must be because they took my mask."
Sakura tugged the blanket down a little to watch Kakashi stick his hands to the ceiling with chakra and gracefully lower himself back to his bunk. "You normally sleep in your mask?" she asked cautiously, because the topic of Kakashi's Mask was pretty much a taboo. It was like sex; everyone thought about it, but you didn't talk about it quite so openly.
Kakashi just shrugged. "Sure." Then he smiled. "Keeps my nose warm."
Well… Sakura supposed that was a reason. Albeit not a very good one.
"You're not going to eat your breakfast?" he asked as he picked up one of the gently steaming bowls of sludge. "You didn't eat supper either."
"I'll be sick if I eat that stuff," she said, staring resolutely at the blank gray wall.
"You'll be even sicker if you eat nothing at all," he pointed out.
Sakura said nothing, even though she knew he was right. But instead of acknowledging that, she pulled the blanket back over her head and tried to will herself into a coma.
Kakashi didn't bother her again as he was busy trying his best to force down a breakfast that had probably been made out of gathered leftovers of the previous week's breakfasts. Like Sakura he had no real inclination ingest something that looked so remarkable like dog vomit, but he had to set a good example, and it would have been a little hypocritical to turn his nose up after what he'd just said.
Even so, after only a few mouthfuls his face was beginning to contort in the most interesting ways and he discreetly reached through the bars to tip the remaining contents into the gutter. A quick glance over his shoulder to check Sakura hadn't seen and he felt free to recline back on his hands self-righteously.
Now what to do?
There really was very little entertainment to be had in a prison cell. If he'd been allowed to keep Icha Icha Exchange, Kakashi might've been able to occupy himself for the full seven days without pause. But as it was he had to amuse himself by tickling Sakura's bare foot and watching it twitch sporadically in her sleep. But this quickly grew old when it soon became apparent that she would occasional flail her leg and severely crack whatever she kicked. Kakashi didn't like to think what might've happened if she got a lucky strike on his hand.
Boredom was a difficult state of being, but Kakashi had endured worse. With a sigh, he got back on his bunk, propped his hands behind his head and let his mind wander.
It was a small eternity before ten o'clock rolled around and the sound of clanging cell gates and keys could be heard. Kakashi sat up and scratched the back of his neck tiredly while he waited for the guard to reach their cell.
"Prisoner eight-nine-six-six-two," said the guard, announcing his arrival with a jangle of keys. "You're free to… whoa…"
The guard stopped dead upon seeing Kakashi. Kakashi stiffened a little as well.
It was Shikamaru.
"Kakashi-sensei?" His hand hesitated to put the key in the lock. "What are you doing in there?" He looked around and lowered his voice. "Is this some kind of undercover job?"
If only.
"No… I've been incarcerated," he said, then corrected himself as he gestured to the snoozing Sakura. "We've been incarcerated."
"Unbelievable," Shikamaru muttered, looking annoyed. "What did you do?"
"Absolutely nothing," he answered truthfully. "May I ask why you're working here?"
"Oh, me?" Shikamaru shrugged. "Working with children proved a little too troublesome. I figured working with convicted felons would be a little easier."
"And is it?"
"Well, fewer punch-ups at least." Shikamaru's eyes traveled to the sleeping girl. "Is that Sakura?"
"Mm." Kakashi glanced over his shoulder to look at said girl with her arms lolling over the edge of her bunk and her hair in a fantastic mess.
Shikamaru sighed. "And here's me without my camera…" he muttered, before shaking his head and twisting the key in the lock. He stepped back as he wrenched the gate open. "Anyway, you have an hour of non-stop fun ahead of you. Washroom is that way. Game room is that way. And the gym is behind the washhouse. Any questions?"
"There isn't a bookshop around here, is there?" Kakashi asked vaguely.
"'Fraid not." Shikamaru shrugged. "But if there's anything they confiscated that you want back… you know… I can get it for you. You usually only get your stuff back for good behavior, but I'm guessing you won't be acting up on us, right?"
"I'll do my best." For Icha Icha, Kakashi would do anything.
"I'll see what I can do," Shikamaru said, nodding before moving to lock the cell behind Kakashi, presumably to keep Sakura in. "Wait," he said suddenly, turning back to Kakashi. "There's something different about you. I can't put my finger on it."
Kakashi stared at the younger man as his face was scrutinized quite openly. "Really?" he raised his eyebrows idly.
"Yeah…" Shikamaru frowned. "Have you done something with your hair?"
"Yep." He recalled combing it at some point last year.
"That's probably it then," Shikamaru shrugged and went on his way, leaving Kakashi to head off to the washhouse for a much-needed scrub.
Now, Kakashi had never at any point in his life felt particularly short or skinny (at least not since he was fifteen when his long overdue growth spurt had finally caught up with him). At the age of thirty... something, and at a grand height of nearly six feet, it was rare that Hatake Kakashi ever had to crane his neck to look someone in the eye.
But it seemed that one of the requirements of being a convict meant that you had to be six-four or over and at least two hundred pounds.
It wasn't that he felt intimidated by all the rather large men bumping shoulders with him as they all filed into the wash house, guided by ushering guards. Oh, no. But he still didn't relish the thought of frolicking around naked in the showers with them. He felt a bit like that pale, nerdy pipsqueak who'd walked into the jocks' changing rooms by mistake. So many men with deep tans and bulging muscles… the sheer amount of testosterone permeating the air alone was enough to give anyone an inferiority complex.
After stripping off his clothes on the benches provided and taking up a towel, Kakashi trudged after the line of men heading into the showers. When in doubt, do as others do – or so the old Shinobi lore went.
Just as he'd chosen a faucet and was about to turn the water on though, a rather large body shunted him aside.
"This is my spot," grunted the man who'd shoved him, promptly turning on the water for himself.
Kakashi was slightly too disconcerted to respond effectively. Way too much naked contact there, he thought, shuddering.
But there wasn't any point in raising a fuss. It would only create an opportunity for a fight, and the last thing Kakashi needed right now was a scrap in a stupid little detention facility to add to the list of reasons why the Elder's should keep him locked up. Although there probably wasn't much more he could do to sink lower in their eyes after what he'd said to them the previous day.
Still. He didn't regret one word. He was only sorry he hadn't had time to vocalize the rest of the things he'd been dying to say to them since he was seventeen and they'd casually mentioned what a disgrace his father had been to the village and how they hoped he would do better. 'Bigoted Old Farts' was only the nicest way to describe them in Kakashi's eyes.
Selecting another faucet that didn't appear to have anyone's name on it, Kakashi got down to business, hoping to finish up as quickly as possible. The soap was rough and smelt worse than he did already, but it was better than nothing, just as long as he didn't drop it or anything…
"Hey, you!"
Kakashi ignored the shout, hoping that it wasn't aimed at him. But really that was just asking for too much leniency from the powers that be.
"You – you're the guy who put me in here!"
Crap...
Two large, wet hands landed on Kakashi's shoulders and twisted him around sharply. Once again, this was far too much contact for two naked men, and Kakashi stepped back sharply. Frankly, he wasn't a fan of any kind of physically contact even when fully dressed, and this guy was seriously invading his personal space. With a patient sigh, he looked at the taller and far more irate man. "I'm sorry, can I help you?" he asked politely, pushing wet hair out of his eyes – though keeping the sharingan firmly shut.
"I'd know that face anywhere," the man seethed. "You're the man who put me in here! Hatake!"
Kakashi looked the man up and down. "Um… what?" He didn't recognize the man at all, which was odd, because he was really quite distinctive with his black and white streaky hair and wild beard.
"Don't pretend you've forgotten," the man seethed. "You may have cut your hair and gotten your face cut up, Sakumo, but I know it's you. Who could mistake the White Fang of Konoha!"
Kakashi stared at him. "You could, clearly," he pointed out flatly. "Because I'm not him. The man you're referring to died nearly thirty years ago. Just how long have you been in here?"
"About… thirty years?"
"Well, there you go," Kakashi said. "Can I get back to my shower now or is there anyone else I remind you of?"
"If you're not Sakumo, then you must be the younger one. What was his name… Hatake Kakashi?" The large convict scrutinized Kakashi's face.
Kakashi gave nothing away. "Hatake Arashi, surely?"
"You him?"
"Could be. Why?"
"I'd like you to give your father a message for me."
Nothing good had ever come of a sentence like that. Kakashi decided his shower was over. "Certainly, let me just go get a pen and I'll-"
The next moment, he was seeing stars.
Sakura awakened to the sound of a lot of angry, distant shouting and the rattle of bars as the front of her cell swung open. "Whuzzat…?" she mumbled, sitting up with her hair stuck mainly on one side. Through muzzy eyes she saw the distinct figure of her former teacher being slung onto his bunk by two guards.
She snapped awake instantly as the cell door shut with a loud bang. Turning to Kakashi, her gaze was thunderous. "What did you do?" she demanded.
Then she saw his face. "What did you do to your nose?" she gasped in a more sympathetic tone. She threw off her blanket and dove towards her slightly woozy looking cellmate to help him sit up against the wall. There was blood tracking all the way down his face and throat, stemming from his nose. "What happened?" she asked, noticing how wet he was. "Oh my god, they didn't gang rape you in the shower did they?"
"Sakura, you watch too many prison movies," he told her, sounding incredible nasal. "I want a drink of water…"
"Keep still," she ordered. "I think you've broken your nose."
"Ah."
Sakura summoned chakra to her hand and held it close to his face. "What happened?" she asked, concentrating on fixing the misaligned bones.
"I slipped," he told her shiftily.
"Was that before or after someone punched you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sort of in between, actually…"
Sakura sighed deeply. "Trust you, Kakashi-sensei," she said softly. "You've only been here a day and already you got in a fight. I'm surprised you got hit though. Normally you're very good at ducking."
"Well, I might've seen it coming if it had actually come from the guy who was picking the fight. I think one of his friends caught me from the side." Kakashi wrinkled his nose experimentally.
"Keep still," she snapped. "So you got flattened by someone's prison bitch? I can't wait to tell Naruto and Sasuke."
"Oh, don't worry. I kicked their asses. You hear that?" he lifted a finger, indicating she should listen. The shouting was still going on in the distance, like a pack of hounds baying for blood. "That is the sound of fifty very bruised egos. They just got lucky with that first punch - there were a lot of disadvantages for me in there. Confined space, slippery floor, distracting naked flesh – ow."
"All better." Sakura tapped a finger against his tender nose with a dimpled smile and went to soak a corner of his blanket under the cold water tap in the corner. She returned to start wiping the dried blood from his face. "You have to be more careful," she told him sternly. "If you get beaten to death, who am I supposed to talk to for the rest of the week?"
"I'm sure you'd manage."
Sakura grinned at him. "So what was that guy picking a fight over?"
"Oh, you know." Kakashi closed his eyes and relaxed under the soothing stroke of the damp cloth. "They were just jealous because I have my own personal nurse living with me."
"Yeah, well you're on your own next time," she told him bluntly. "If you break your nose again, your 'own personal nurse' is not fixing it, no matter how pretty it may be."
Kakashi's right eye slid open to regard her with a curious frown. Sakura's face turned a little pink as she focused mulishly on her task, trying not to let him know it had been a slip of the tongue. She just hoped he would think it was a joke. But his stare was getting a little unnerving. "What?" she barked.
Kakashi shrugged. "I'll try not to break it again if it means that much to you."
Sakura was about to tell him that he would be lucky if it wasn't her breaking his nose next time when a guard arrived outside the cell. "Prisoner eight-nine-six-six-four," he reeled off. "You have an hour recess."
Oh, thank god! Sakura shot to her feet. "Great. Wonderful. Bye, Kakashi-sensei!"
Never, in Sakura's opinion, had a day ever passed slower than that first day in prison. After lunch was served, she and Kakashi had a little fun trying to guess exactly what sort of meat had been served until eventually they decided it was probably bread. After that they promptly ran out of things to talk about and passed through hours of silence.
"I'm so bored," she would eventually drawl into the lackadaisical mood.
This would be returned with a, "You think you're bored," from Kakashi.
Another bout of silence would float by as Sakura settled down on her bunk to watch a spider spin a complex web in the gap between her mattress and the wall. Then Kakashi would sigh and start rubbing his fingers over his rough jaw. "I need a shave."
"You think you need a shave," Sakura retorted, sticking her leg in the air pointedly.
The silence that followed this revelation was slightly more awkward than those previous, though Sakura didn't seem to notice.
"What do you think Naruto's doing right now?" she wondered aloud.
Kakashi folded his arms and closed his eyes meditatively. "Something involving ramen."
Sakura clucked her tongue in annoyance. "Typical. Don't you have even just a little bit of faith in Naruto to do something other than eat ramen all the time? He's human too, you know. He could be doing anything – like his laundry, or he's on a mission, or gardening, or-"
"Or eating ramen?" Kakashi interjected.
Sakura gave up. "Oh, alright, he's probably eating ramen."
She smashed her face into the mattress in sheer boredom as she heard Kakashi give a wide, prolonged yawn. After a moment she sat up at scrutinized the bars at the front of the cell, lips held in a thoughtful pout. She glanced at Kakashi. "I bet you I could fit through those bars."
Kakashi's dark eye slid open to regard her quietly, then shifted his gaze to the bars. He gave a soft 'humph' before shutting that same eye and leaning his head back against the wall. "Sure."
"I bet I could," she said, feeling daring.
"And what would we bet?" Kakashi pointed out with a tilted eyebrow. "I'm a little strapped for cash at the moment, to be honest."
Sakura chewed her lip. "Breakfast. I'll bet you my breakfast."
"I don't want your breakfast," Kakashi said bluntly. "I don't even want my breakfast."
"Fine. Then whoever loses the bet has to eat both breakfasts," she declared.
Kakashi opened both eyes this time to look at her more alertly. After a moment he smiled placidly and cocked his head. "Alright. Go for it."
But Sakura wasn't so sure now. She had the sneaking suspicion that he'd just analyzed the probability of her body fitting through those bars with the sharingan and had already worked out the measurements. However, Sakura was a ninja of her word so she couldn't back out now.
Crawling off her bunk, she slipped over to the bars and easily threaded an arm and leg through. Then she met difficulties…
Kakashi's smile only widened to see her struggles and leant forward with his chin resting in his palm. "And what do you plan to do with your newfound freedom?" he enquired, watching her vainly trying to fit her head through the bars.
"Go home, of course," she said, as if it was obvious. "And have a nice long nap on my nice comfy mattress, far away from men who snore like they have a kunai up their nose."
"You realize that as soon as you break out, they'll send people round to pick you up and bring you back?" Kakashi said slowly. "And then they'll stick you underground and pump you with enough drugs to make you forget how to string a sentence together, let alone devise an escape plan. So unless you plan on running away from Konoha for good, there's no point in trying to get out."
Sakura scowled thoughtfully at the distant, misty horizon, stilling her attempts to wriggle through the bars. Then suddenly she brightened. "Yeah, let's do that." She looked back at him, full of mischief. "Let's run away together, like, over the border or something. We could seek sanctuary with the Kazekage or something until the Hokage returns."
"And have to dodge all the tracker-nin along the way? No, thank you." Kakashi stretched and leaned back with his hands behind his head. "Why would I want to do that when I can stay here with free catering, bathing and shelter."
Sakura's frown returned. "You think this is some kind of vacation, don't you?"
"If you let it get to you, you'd only be letting the Elders win," he pointed out. "Enjoy yourself. You have a week off from work."
Sakura clung to the bars miserably. "When I have a week off work, I go shopping. A lot. Man, I miss shopping."
"…you've only been here a day."
"And it's killing me," she hissed. "I need out! Now!"
Her efforts to squeeze her way to freedom were renewed. If only the bars were a little wider… if only her hips were a little slimmer…!
Without even thinking she began to summon chakra to the muscles in her arms, preparing to release them on the unsuspecting iron slats. But Kakashi must have sensed her intentions before she even realized them, and quickly snapped at her. "Don't even think about it."
Sakura's chakra dispersed with a guilty whoosh. She sagged brokenly against the bars. "It's not fair…" she moaned, despairingly.
"Life rarely is," he said, shrugging. "But there's not point in trying to escape, Sakura. You'd be breaking the honor system. We're honor bound not to use any kind of jutsu while we're in here."
"Screw the honor system," she wailed. "I want my straightening iron!"
A shadow fell across her and she squinted up at the guard standing directly in front of her, well aware that she was currently half-in and half-out of her cell. "Yo, Sakura."
"Hey, Shikamaru…" she returned dully. She seemed to recall Ino mentioning his trial change in occupation. "Be a sweetheart and spring a girl loose, would you?"
He shook his head. "I wish I could," she said, sounding like he didn't particularly care one way or another. "But I did manage to get some of your stuff out the lockers." He dropped two plastic bags into the cell.
Sakura pulled back to pick them up curiously. "My accessories!" she cried happily. "I could kiss you!"
But she didn't. Instead she hoarded her precious belongings back onto her bunk like a magpie returning to its nest. Kakashi got up to pick up his bag.
Icha Icha Exchange. "Good man," Kakashi sighed and hugged the precious blue book to his chest. An enormous tension eased off his shoulders. "Why couldn't any of my students be more like you?"
"Hey…" Sakura squeaked, affronted.
Shikamaru snorted, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Says the man who trained an Uchiha and a Jinchuuriki." Noticing Sakura's glare he felt compelled to add, "And… uh… Sakura…"
"Urgh, whatever." She dismissed them both with an annoyed grunt. She didn't have time to waste on inconsiderate bastards. She had hair to comb!
As Kakashi began hurriedly thumbing through his book to find the page he'd left off at, Shikamaru rolled on the balls of his feet. "I get off in three hours," he informed Kakashi. "If there's anyone you want me to contact for you…?"
"Nope," said Kakashi easily.
"Naruto," Sakura piped. "Tell Naruto and Sasuke. But don't tell my parents. God, they're overbearing enough as it is on the days I'm not in prison. They really don't need to hear about this."
Kakashi frowned at her. "Maybe someone should tell them… just in case they worry?"
"They won't even notice I'm gone," she grunted. "And do you really want them visiting everyday to witter on at us about criminal records and what a disappointment I am to them? You've met my mother. You know what she's like."
"Highly critical and shrill?" He remembered the lecture he'd been given off such a Mrs Haruno shortly after Sakura had received her first sprained ankle in her genin training. Kakashi's ears had been buzzing for the rest of the day.
"Exactly," Sakura said with finality. "Do you really want her camping outside our cell and giving you a verbal whipping for seven whole days? And she won't like it that we're sharing a cell. She's a complete prude, you know. She'd think that the fact that you can see my ankles is some sort of provocative foreplay."
Kakashi's gaze lingered on said ankles for a moment, wondering about the merit behind Mrs Haruno's ideas. A long time ago he'd once heard it said that the ankles of a woman could drive a man crazy with desire. And well, Sakura's ankles weren't half bad, but he was more of a hips and thigh kind of guy.
Although, come to think of it, Sakura's hips and thighs were really quite nice and toned; perfect for running his hands over in the middle of a rather passionate bout of-
Badtrainofthought.
Kakashi turned swiftly back to Shikamaru. "Don't tell her parents – specifically her mother. That woman will give anyone a flea in the ear over anything," he said, flicking his own ear for emphasis.
"Yeah, that would be troublesome." Shikamaru nodded. "Well, see ya. And have a nice incarceration."
Kakashi returned to his bunk, intent upon catching up on the latest plot development in the Icha Icha series. His continued sanity was assured at last now that this book was safely back in his hand. But Sakura had other ideas.
"Is this better?" she asked.
Kakashi didn't tear his eyes off his book. "Much," he said.
"You're not even looking! Is – this – better? Tell me honestly."
Kakashi sighed and finally graced her with a brief, assessing glance. Her hair was a little tidier than before, what with it scraped back in a messy bun, but other than that she looked the same. "Sure," he said vaguely, not committing himself to a straight answer.
He went back to his book, even as he heard Sakura's tongue-click of annoyance.
"You're useless," she told him. "Where can I find a mirror? Why isn't there one in here?"
"Because if you were an unhappy sort of person, you might smash it and use it to slit your wrists," he told her cheerfully. "Prison regulations. As if ninjas don't already have a whole collection of suicide jutsus to fall back on anyway."
Sakura shifted uneasily on her bunk. "I don't…"
"You don't?" Kakashi blinked at her.
"No…" she said slowly. "Should I?"
"It's always recommended…" he trailed off. "Do you want me to teach you one?"
"Um, no." She shook her head and gave him a meaningful look. "I'd only be tempted to use it."
"Your loss," he told her, shrugging as he went back to his book.
Time drifted by at a snail's pace, as it tended to do when there was very little to entertain oneself with. Sakura eventually reached a satisfactory conclusion with her hair and started manicuring her nails and repainting her chipped polish. When she'd finished this, she took advantage of Kakashi's utter apathy when it came to anything outside Icha Icha to creep down between the bunks to start giving him a pedicure.
"When was the last time you cut these nails?" she asked, sawing away at his foot with a nail file.
"Uh, forty-three, I think," he said absently as he turned another page. He wasn't really listening.
Sakura cruelly contemplated painting his nails to match hers, but figured it wouldn't be wise to piss him off completely. At least, not while she had to share living space with him. Instead she finished with his feet and returned to watching her spider spin another repair on his broken web. There was nothing else for her to do except look forward to dinner. And if dinner was anything like lunch and breakfast, then this was a sad state to be in.
"You shouldn't worry about your hair so much," Kakashi suddenly said, as if their previous conversation had only just caught up with him.
"What are you, in another time zone or something?" She pulled a face at him.
Kakashi glanced at her over the top of his book. "Your hair looks nice down," he said easily. "Messy or neat, you're still pretty, so don't worry about it."
Sakura frowned slightly as Kakashi went back to reading. Was that a compliment? It was hard to say with Kakashi. It wasn't like he never handed out compliments or anything, but when he did it was always about her stance or her control or her fighting form, and he always said it with impartiality and fairness.
Even as he complimented her on something as personal as her appearance, he said it the same way he said, "Nice aim, Sakura."
Unsure of how to take such an admission from Kakashi, Sakura opted for her failsafe response. "Whatever…"
He was probably only teasing her anyway.
TBC
