"Why do daddies have to die?"
The question echoed in Kakashi's mind and he found himself unable to even think. His mouth dropped, his blood had stopped, his breath had stilled, and he could only hope she didn't feel the frantic thrashing his heart was giving his chest. The scarf that sat in the second drawer in the back left corner, folded and well worn, flitted to his mind and he struggled to remember the name he had torn off. He seemed to remember the little girl having the most peculiar… pink hair. With a mouth as dry as a thousand year old well, Kakashi found himself giving a very, very familiar answer.
"I don't know. Cause life has to be a pain I guess." He was sure that his voice trembled. If so, she didn't notice. Her eyes stayed far from his and she seemed to be just as vulnerable as the little girl that had asked him to take her to the dance those many, many years ago. As drunk as he was that night, he couldn't convince himself that that little girl hadn't had pink hair. That it was a coincidence that she was the same age as Sakura would've been and had lost a father as well.
"Yeah. Well, it doesn't need to be a pain in this particular way at this particular time with this particular mission." She let out a shaky sigh and laid her head back against his chest, her hands idly wrapping around his shoulder. He almost barely managed to ignore the swell of candy and sweat overtaking his senses. Almost. She pressed on, unaware that Kakashi had gone completely still beneath her. "My father died when I was just a baby. I didn't know how until just recently. He was trapped in a gruesome genjutsu that neither he nor anyone else could figure out how to save him from. Medic nins didn't know all that they know now. Genjutsu was and still are the most complicated injuries to heal. I was too young to know anything about it. All I knew was that about once a year my mom had nightmares that tore her awake every night for a straight month. She wouldn't ever tell me they were directly linked to my father's passing, but I always knew that they were. Around that time was also when we'd go visit the stone. She didn't know, but whenever I had ever needed a daddy, I'd go sit there and pretend he was there to love me and tell me what to do." She pressed a soft smile into his shirt. The idea was not new to him. He still visited Obito everyday. "She never did tell me what happened. The stone is all she would risk leaving the house for. She lived in such fear every day that she never ventured outside or did anything. Agoraphobia never was more prominent in Konoha than in the doors of the Haruno house."
"How did you find out?" He knew there was no way she would not hear how his words were suddenly windless. At this point in time he was both the most aware and the least aware of her he had ever been. Each word out of her mouth caught his unique attention as he measured how her voice held a slow, soft purring quality to it. So different from the crying little girl... The meanings of the words made him realize just how little about her he really knew. He was aware of how her hair was tangled, and her face swollen, her lip bruised from her unending chewing and she was still beautiful. The conversation brought with it memories that were blurry and vague but old and real. That pure and perfect memory that had lightened his heart was continuing as the small child grew into an adult and found out that dad's are irreplaceable. Resentment at the tainting of his treasure and awe that she would trust him with such personal secrets battled in his heart.
"I'm a medic nin. I just one day realized I could pick up his file and look at everything they had. They had pictures. He had scratched his eyes until he had torn his eyelids and started scratching out his own eyes. His nails and hands were bleeding. His skin was stretched across his bones and so pale. Of course, there were more scratches across his face than those that had been left by him; the other ninja had dealt his own dealing of damage. The genjustu dealt the most though. Apparently before someone had been able to get to him, he had stabbed himself a couple of times with a kunai. He must've thought the pain would make the genjutsu go away." Tears again silently slipped down her face, but Sakura did nothing to wipe them away. This was sorrow. "I became quickly obsessed with learning who he was. I searched for pictures of him in the house, looked for any letters he might have left my mother when they were courting. I could never figure it out. All of this sorrow over his death, yet not a single reminder of his life?" She shook her head and he could see this had been a topic of much mental anguish since the discovery had been made. "I finally found some things from an unexpected source... Kurenai had a box of his things. She had left it on my desk one day after finding out I had began an obsessive search. She didn't think I would know it was hers, but people underestimate how easily I can read chakra signals. She had sealed it for a very, very long time. Inside were pictures and letters and a pair of his gloves and even a small orange book. It was the most I had ever known my father. And to die the way he did, I couldn't bear to imagine it. That's why I'm so good at genjutsu. Mom had insisted I practice it every single time I could. If I wanted to be something, ever, in the world of my mother, I was going to be a ninja. A good one, a talented one. Someone more talented than my father. She always stressed that I needed to work really hard on genjutsu. She wasn't losing another to those sick mind tricks. But seeing his death made me afraid. Because I had learned something else from that folder: there is one Ninja line in particular that the Haruno family is susceptible to. The youngest of theirs was young in my father's day, just barely behind bars when he slithered away. They were an old and violent family and they haven't been heard of since. There are so many similarities…" Her voice trailed away and she fell silent as her fears and worries seemed to overwhelm her thoughts.
Kakashi had stopped being amazed at how she affected him and had opted for listening to her as much as he could. This was so much of her life he hadn't known. "Surely not this one? Sakura, there's a thousand different people who know powerful genjutsu. This isn't the one that killed your father. That one has probably died already. You don't live the life of such danger and not get someone that's stronger and bigger than you. I've heard stories of your father, Sakura. He was a powerful ninja, and he is very respected among the elite. There are things that he did that you would be so proud of Sakura, people he saved."
With a shrug, Sakura blew off his statement. "It doesn't matter if it's the same criminal. Doesn't have to be. The similarities make it hard for my mind to differentiate. But Kakashi, I'll be ok. You just have to help me through every now and then. I know you're here and you'll fix anything. My dad died before we knew all the potential of the Sharingan. You can save me whenever you like. And I'm not likely to get caught off guard, I've never met a genjutsu that couldn't be mastered."
"It's not always that simple, Sakura." She looked at him quizzically, but he had had enough of these newfound dark memories that Sakura held, and all the darker things that they held for her future. "I'll explain later Sakura. For now, we need to get in at least a couple of hours of walking." He ignored the way his mind tried to force him back over to her as he walked away. Sakura was not a drug. He would not treat her like she was. And running to her to greedily pull her into his face and just smell all of her wonderful skin and touch every soft area of her face that he could manage and have her fingers playing through his hair as his fingers played in hers was definitely treating her like a drug. A glorious, heartbroken, beautiful drug. He was royally screwed.
He knew it seemed completely cruel to just walk away after her story of the sick and vile things she had had to endure, but he simply didn't know what kind of response he could have, what she could have expected him to do. There was nothing he knew of that would help her. So he even surprised himself when he turned unexpectedly and looked her dead in the eyes.
"You can always trust me, Sakura." A small lift of his hand in a salute brought a weak and confused smile to her face. "You've always been my favorite." With that he walked on. He trusted she would follow in time and didn't look back.
The forest was quiet around him as he walked away. His hasty exit was just as much about giving him time to recover as her. How had he not known about all this in her life? Why had everything been kept so secret? Normally stories as gruesome as this were used as examples to teach caution and team work to new recruits into the elite forces. Sakura's father had not been a nobody ninja. How come no one had ever learned exactly what circumstances he had died under? Had no officials ever checked on the family and seen how they was coping? Why did so many things seem to lack any adherence to protocol that all ninja families were held under? There was a red flag blaring in his face and for all the life in him he couldn't figure out what was hiding underneath it. Why would Tsunade ever send Sakura on a mission like this knowing the complications she would face?
Sakura took a moment to smooth out her clothes and let her sniffles fade away. When she was satisfied that only puffy redness of her eyes would tattle on her nervous breakdown she followed after her comrade. Having this fear out in the open was something Sakura was skeptical about. In one hand, it could prove to be for the best if Kakashi could figure out how to help her pass the worst of the genjutsu this demon that plagued the village had to offer. Her old teacher may not have really been much of a teacher at all, but he was at least a good man. A good man with a big, scarred heart and a strange soft spot for his pink haired student; it had come to be a fact she couldn't deny. His favoritism towards her was unmistakable. She severely doubted Sasuke or Naruto would have gotten such soothing words from him. She knew that the sight of their tears didn't make his heart rate sky rocket and his breathing stop like a deer caught in headlights. He had a fear for her and care for her that she had never seen him display towards anyone living. The only thing that had ever resembled that look in his eye was his stories of Obito and Rin.
She had always seen it there, even when he pointedly ignored her as a student. He would take the brunt of her work from her shoulders. He would fight her share of the villains when they went to play superhero for the village. He would always have a pat on her head when she had nothing left to remind her of the goodness of people. And sometimes, when she returned from a mission so late in the night that even the bars of the village lay asleep in the dark, she would see the tall and thin silhouette and know he had been waiting there all day. He would always just smile at her and ruffle her hair before he popped away into the night. She may have never understood why, but she had to admit, she was truly his favorite student. The thought sent a warmth racing through her skin that she couldn't explain and tried hard not to analyze. Kakashi would always be there with her. It was as simple as that.
The thought tugged a content smile from her lips. At least he had never truly forgotten her. Everyone else may fail in her life, but there was one solid rock on which she stood.
They walked in silence for the next couple of hours, even braving an extra hour of walking into the night. They had to make up for the delay the tortured ninja had caused. A quick burial and a last prayer for him was all the memorial service he would get. Walking into a village with a dead ninja would be no good for their cover. Most likely his family wouldn't want to see him this way regardless. They kept his head band, intending to return it to those that knew him. On the inside, stitched in white was a simple message: 'Keep Warm Ibachi. Love, Selena.' It was against protocol to put anything on the headbands, but under the circumstances, Kakashi didn't think that Selena would get into any trouble. Sakura had willingly taken on the task of informing the poor woman of her loss. Gratitude was an understatement to the rush of appreciation that the white haired ninja felt when she took the burden off his shoulders.
Once they began to set up camp, Kakashi found himself running a finger over the white threading. How could it feel to have someone at home that would lovingly remind him to stay warm? And how would that person feel when only a headband was brought back because the body was too fragile and too gruesome to be hauled back home? The thoughts made his eyes narrow, anger boiling in his veins. The world was too cruel sometimes. What if somewhere back in the village there was another little Sakura, wondering what it would feel like if she had a dad to love her? What if there was another mother, scared to death her son or daughter would not be strong enough, would not be able? Why did the sick have to live long? And why did brilliant people like Sakura suffer for it? Stealing a glance at the girl who had long ago leaned her head against a tree to sleep, he let his mind wander over these questions. Nightmares twitched and shook her hands and held her in fits of fear. It was sudden when his breath hitched at her green eyes flying open. Apparently his staring had managed to stir her from her fitful sleep.
"Are you ok, Kakashi?" Her voice was groggy and rough. He ignored his minds venturing into the knowledge that she probably sounded that way in the mornings. It ran across his body anyway, making him shiver. "Are you cold?" Sharpened observation skills had caught his reaction and mistook it for something innocent.
"No Sakura, I'm fine." He averted his eyes and tried to shut off his ears.
"Thank you. You're really a great friend. I love you, Kakashi." She had said it breathlessly as she fell back asleep but it still made his heart freeze in his chest. He knew she meant it only as friends, in reference to his helping hand earlier. A mixture of dread and hope filled his heart before he crushed it back into the depths of unacknowledged wishes. But the question skipped across his mind again: 'How could it feel to have someone at home that would lovingly remind you to stay warm?' What if that person could be as sweet and innocent and jaded as Sakura?
Running a hand through his spiky hair, Kakashi just let out a ragged breath and leaned back. "I know, Sakura." Her sleep seemed much easier now. She lay still and deeply breathing on her side, a light snore breaking the silence on occasion.
He had to admit that the sudden feelings he was having towards her were not so sudden as much as they were suddenly so strong. He had noticed a shift in the way he communicated with her, in the way he intentionally sought her out, in how he would let his hand linger when he patted her on the head. He tried to figure out what had caused this sudden jump in the previously subtle attraction he had desperately tried to hide. He remembered her anger towards him: the shifty look in her cold eyes, the frosty shoulder in the mission's room, and the unexplained bouts of temper tantrum. He remembered wishing he could make that dark look disappear from her face forever because even though it undoubtedly made him a hypocrite, he couldn't stand seeing the dead look reflected back at him. It had always been the Uchiha that he had assumed would take after him in the end. Why had he never realized that it was Sakura that had been left behind to take the place of sole member of Team 7 left in Konoha? How had he never realized that Sakura had become so much like him?
Still, there was something that seemed even more off about it now. In the last month or so she had seemed more distant. He guessed it could be this thing with her father… But the distance was different. More like something had happened instead of something had been discovered. Not so much fear as anxiety. Not so much dread as regret. And he could see the little lines of worry on her face. Old wounds newly founded always had a different pain than a new pain recently created. There was a story beneath this of her father's. Maybe, if he looked far enough back, he would find that her discovery of her father had been due to whatever this hidden thing was. He was, after all, the master of underneath the underneath. Who else could have observed her in those moments and known with all clarity that there were more than those things on the surface that plagued her? No one. No one knew her well enough to dig that far in. Not since Naruto and Sasuke left. And at least one of those had never cared that much in the first place.
That last thought sent him off on his own little tirade. There had been rumors of him coming back in town. There had been whispers in the bar when everyone thought he could not hear that Sasuke had returned and not even told his teacher. He didn't recall seeing his proclaimed prodigy in years, honestly. He didn't know the exact date, but he remembered the way it had happened, and he knew that he hadn't seen Sasuke since the night that he left them all with a smirk and a pop into the dark. Again. Sakura had handled the situation well. Not a tear shed, not a moment wasted, she had moved on. If the occasion came where she stared at the gate a little longer than usual, no one paid it any mind. Everyone had come to realize that though she missed her distant team mate, she was no longer in love with him. The small girl that had idolized the black haired avenger had lost all romanticized ideas of the man. She'd turned instead into the girl with the coldest realistic view of the fool who had left her in the worst way.
Now that he thought about it, those quick glances to the gates had become angrier as of late. And more frequent. He thought maybe it had been the rumors, that she was angry that he would come back and not say anything to his old team mate. Looking back on it, that assumption didn't make much sense considering Sakura had long stopped expecting courtesy from Sasuke.
Maybe there was merit to this story of the Uchiha coming back. Maybe he had left again, giving Sakura false hope that he had returned home for good. As the wheels began turning in his head, Kakashi started making connections. It was around the time that the rumors began that Sakura had started being so troubled. The glares and the random moments of deadness upon her features had all began around those times as well. Her behavior would never be so drastically changed by a simple rumor… Was there truth to this claim then? And why would she hide his reappearance from him if Sasuke had shown up? Why this renewed anger when before there had been nothing but grim acceptance? Where had Sasuke hidden if he had come home once more? Why would he-
"Kakashi, your shift is up. Go to sleep." The hand had tugged his shirt, dragging him away from his thoughts. A worried smile timidly spread its way across her lips. "Are you sure you're ok? Because if your cold, I could lay with you. I know how to stay awake." She had rested her hand on his shoulder. It was not an unusual offer. On nights of particularly cold weather team mates, male or female, often lay together to keep warm. The biggest mistake a ninja could make was pride, especially when it came to staying warm in the cold Konoha nights.
Slowly, he looked at that hand on his shoulder. Following the line of her arm, he slowly crept his way back to her face. Fear fell far beyond the hint of worry in her smile. His odd behavior was scaring her, and as her only fortress of safety, her doubt could not be more troubling to her at the moment. The medic nin in her was trying to find an easy and fixable solution to the problem. Something that she could fix by thinking up a remedy that she knew she could offer and that she saw no reason for him to decline whatsoever.
The offer was tempting, but that was exactly what made Kakashi say what he said next.
"I'd really rather not Sakura. I'm a pervert, remember?" His eye crinkled playfully and she batted him on the shoulder. "Besides, I'm not really cold at all." With that, he curled over and laid his head on a large gnarled root. "Let me know when you get tired."
Many people assume that Kakashi would have a hard time falling asleep. Most assume that he would fall into a light slumber filled with nightmares and would violently jerk awake at any moment at any sound. They all just knew that his life of war and blood and gore stole from him the moments of blissful sleep that innocents like them enjoyed. All of those people would be wrong. Sakura had come to figure out that the only time he looked truly peaceful was when he conked out during the night. Despite all the gruesome things that Kakashi had witnessed in his lifetime and all the things that haunted him, the greatest shinobi in Konoha fell asleep hard and fast and slept just like a baby. In just seconds his eye had relaxed, his hands fell loosely to the ground, and a light rumble of a snore tattled at his deep sleep. Knowing that they would be unlikely to be disturbed until morning, Sakura allowed herself the pleasure of watching him slumber. The way his heavy eyelids fluttered as he dreamed unknown dreams. The way the muscles in his arms relaxed and his whole body seemed to let out a breath of relief. It was as though all the stress of every day left him at once. She seriously doubted that he would still be sane if he was unable to sleep this way.
Many times she had been presented with this opportunity to stare at her teacher and know all of him. She could have removed his mask and traced her fingers over every single surface. She had always imagined a deep, rugged scar on his cheek, or a mole the size of Konaha on his chin, or even better: a perfect face sculpted by God. Yet, as much as her hands itched to reach across that tiny space between them and pull that dark mask down she had never indulged. It felt too much like a most horrible type of cheating. It always felt like she had a present, wrapped and ready, under the Christmas tree. She knew she could always go over there and unwrap it and look at it. She also knew that if she was patient enough, she would see the present. And with patience, she wouldn't have to hide that she had seen it. Why suffer for today what one can have with no consequence tomorrow?
As harmless as Kakashi was when he slept, he was still a powerful ninja with immense power. She would not want him to ever know she had peeked underneath his mysteries while he couldn't defend himself. He had many, many interesting ways to get revenge. Sakura had only been the victim a handful of times, but Naruto was not so lucky. There had been many instances as a medic where Sakura had stitched, cleaned, wrapped, and once even removed the consequences of Kakashi's revenge on her blond haired friend. It was always with a laugh and a friendly warning that Sakura told him to act like a real ninja and not get caught next time. Somehow, he never did seem to figure out how to sneak past their most favorite Sharingan holder. And though Sakura had never had much luck at it neither, she had long ago learned to control her childish curiosities.
That doesn't mean that when the mask snagged on the rough edges of the tree stump and pulled ever so slightly down that Sakura refrained herself from agonizing over every detail of newly exposed flesh. She could see the hints of a scar on either cheek. Ending just under where the edge of his mask had been, she could see what looked like a stapled scar. It looked like someone had tried to sloppily staple the two halves of the scar back together, making it look almost like patchwork. Whoever his medic had been had truly sucked at their job. Any level of medic could have stitched it up better than this. The only way to mess up so badly was to either do it on purpose or not be a medic at all. She had heard of people trying to hastily pull together a bad wound on the battlefield, but it seemed unlikely that they would have had the tools to do a job like this anywhere besides the hospital.
Considering Kakashi's history of pissing off people in high and dangerous places, she was betting on a former enemy trying to carve through his face. Besides, even a basic skills ninja can stitch up any wound better than that. She knew for a fact that all ninja were trained in basic first aid in case their life or a team mates life depended on it after one of several gruesome battles all ninja would endure in a lifetime.
It was an odd way to attempt torture, if that's what it was. Most torturers preferred to bypass the cosmetic and trivial wounds when dealing with ninja. It is much preferred to go for the kunai throwing hand or the legs, or even index finger, which is one of the most important in seal forming. Sakura simply couldn't imagine what amateur psycho had done this to Kakashi, or why he hadn't simply destroyed the attacker like she was sure he could've. Even a very young Kakashi could take on pretty much anyone. Who had been strong enough to overpower him and do this kind of irreplaceable damage?
Without thinking her hand reached to move the mask further down in an attempt to study the haphazardly healed wound. It was white and faded, stretched to show it was years old. It crept jaggedly across his face to turn upwards at his cheekbones. In no apparent order were what looked like stitches crisscrossing the thin line. Someone had tried to sew him up like a doll. It was as though a mother on crack had decided to give her child a play thing. Soft fingertips traced the trail of the white against his pale flesh. Though the continuous line broke off on either corner of his mouth, Sakura was appalled to find that the stitches continued onto each soft, round lip. So they had sliced through his lip and healed it this way. This was all done on purpose, with the intentions of deforming Kakashi's face. She wondered how long ago this had been. Was this the purpose behind the mask? Could Kakashi be so concerned with this scar?
Curiosity pulled her palm to run over his entire face. She closed her eyes to drink in the feel of him through her palm. He was rough and smooth and soft all at the same time. She knew when her hand had neared his eyes that she was addicted to this mystery that was his face. Even without the mask, he was still a mystery. There was no end to the possibilities for his new face and all the little bumps and nicks that she could feel beneath her skin. His eyelashes brushed against her fingers, an unnoticed sign that he was waking up. She continued to feel all the differences in his flesh, her eyes still closed. She gently pushed the headband over his forehead. His white hair fell back after the cloth and metal set it free. Her fingertips massaged his forehead, slowly inching their way into his hair. This was something she had never indulged in, this different and vulnerable side of her teacher.
It was soft and choppy. She had always wondered if it felt like old man hair. It didn't look like it, but she never could know. It isn't often you find someone with white hair. She was surprised at how long it was. It never looked all that long. But her fingers could slide through and it seemed to take forever to get to the end of those glossy strands. She had repeated the action a couple of times before a rumble alerted her to her partner's awareness. Her hand jerked away and her eyes were immediately cast away from the mismatched pair. Deep red stained her cheeks, her lip tucked underneath her teeth in nervousness. She remembered again why she never had taken such opportunities. She didn't want to face Kakashi when he found out she knew. Images of various revenge plots trampled her brain and she subconsciously backed away from him. With her gaze on the
ground she missed the hurt look that the misunderstood man beneath her wore.
"So, did you enjoy your stolen moment?" The voice held no anger, but also no smile. It fell flatly on her ears. She knew instantly she would have preferred hot and violent rage to this unfeeling response.
"I didn't mean to, Kakashi. The tree snagged it and it fell down and I just was surprised to see it. I don't really know what happened after that. I didn't know anything about your face or anything and I just got caught up in the moment. I'm sorry." The words spilled out in a hurried breath. Risking a glance over to him, she found his eyes had locked on her.
They were not angry, nor happy, nor lifeless.
There was intenseness to his gaze that she couldn't place. It bounced around in her mind to try and find a home but in the end there was nowhere it was recognized. Before she had time to memorize it, his gaze fell and he let out a sigh. She recognized the wounded defeat that danced in that emission of breath. Only a kindred spirit would so easily understand in that exhale that he had long ago assumed that there would be no one that could look at him and see anything but pain and fear and evil.
It dawned on her that he had mistaken her step back as her rejecting her new discovery. In his self conscious mind frame he had not realized her fear of retribution. The cold tone in his voice was his way of carefully hiding his disappointment that even someone he considered a friend couldn't stand the sight of him. Guilt grabbed hold of her and she lifted her face to stare at him again. How could he ever think that something as inconsequential as a scar could make her think he was ugly or less than he was before? If anything, it increased her respect for her old friend.
"So, are you going to go tell Naruto and Sasuke about their horribly disfigured teacher when we get through?" His mask was already in place and the headband was being tied back over his sharingan. "You can finally tell Naruto he wins, just not in the way he imagined." His voice was still bland; his eyes still looked intense. He hoped against hope that she would argue with him. Say he wasn't disfigured and ugly, defend his face, tell him he was beautiful regardless. He wasn't one for insecurities, but he had hidden his face for years because of this. It would be nice to be reassured.
"I'm not telling anyone. I really didn't have the right to look." She couldn't keep looking at his eye. "Can you tell me what happened?" She tried to keep her voice soft and tried to hide the quiver of sorrow in her voice. The last thing she needed to do was make things worse by breaking down over the newest discovery of horror in his life.
"So you didn't have the right to look, but you think I should explain it anyways?" This time he let out a weary and defeated growl and let his head fall back against the tree root. He didn't seem angry or betrayed, just tired. "A ninja decided he would make me look like my namesake. The concept of a scarecrow child intrigued him. He was a rogue ninja who had gone a little wacko in his isolation. He had begun to kill off the younger children. He didn't expect me to be… well, me. When it turned out that I wouldn't scream or back down, he grew tired of playing and just began trying to dice me up. Obviously I got away in the end and left the ninja in bad enough shape that he couldn't get away before I got to the other authorities. I was forced into the hospital and they healed every other wound the man had given me. This one, however, they couldn't heal. It just would burn whenever chakra touched it. They did the best they could, but they never did figure out why it was so difficult for that one scar. No worries, he got the full wrath of the Hatake name brought down upon him." He had nonchalantly lifted his hand to trace the path of the crooked straw man's smile. Sakura caught it before it could complete the trail.
"It's more beautiful on you than it would be on anyone else Kakashi." Her hand stayed in his for just a second, but the intense look returned. He pulled his hand away and shifted his unusual stare to a rock.
"Considering we're up, what should we do?" The sun was peaking over the horizon just enough to illuminate the trees and he noticed a smile pull up at her lips. Nothing was more welcome than the return to familiar territory. Work.
"Tsunade said we should spend some time in the surrounding villages on the way and find out about the killings. Discreetly, of course." Her hands were already fumbling in her bag for civilian clothes. "Can't do that dressed as ninja. Don't know how we're going to do that with our hair either, but it'll work out…" She had pulled out a small cap and began pulling her hair back, concealing as much hair as possible. Her pink ponytail would still give her away, but as she said… It'd work out.
"I think we can manage. We always have before." He shrugged it off and began pulling his less obvious garments out of the small pack at his side. They'd have to find a way to explain having packs with them when they were supposed to be lost civilians from a nearby town. Most people don't get lost with supplies. Most people also don't have bubblegum hair or mismatched eyes. How any of the people around here didn't instantly recognize the pair of them always surprised him. Power of suggestion is a wonderful tool.
Without further conversation they headed out in the direction of the closest village. It wasn't big but that was where they hoped to get the most information. News travels fast in a small town. People eyed them warily and scuttled away; generally, they acted afraid. Something or someone had them skittish. And while the recent murders were a likely candidate, there was something practiced about the sneaky way they turned their back ever so slightly, the way they knew how long to stare to scare but not to confront, the way their hands seemed to scurry quickly across their tools and then land unceremoniously in their pocket. These people had a practiced lie. Something lay beneath the surface. Even Sakura noticed. Her teeth were set in a wide smile and her eyes were bright, but her back had tensed just the slightest upon entering. She knew. When her hand found its way around his he didn't object but simply played along. It was one of their easiest assumed personas. It was practiced and easy and comfortable.
Doting couple, in love, was hiking. Got lost, found the town. Needs directions. Also, they found this curious little headband. Wonder what it could mean?
Answers would be unreliable but the body language would give everything away. Two ninja did not get to this status by simply asking and then leaving. Every little twitch of muscle or change in posture would be analyzed and understood and they would do it all without batting a lash. The implications of such secretive actions were immeasurable. Could it be that these citizens knew? Could the culprit be protected? Has he revealed himself or are they simply threatened? Could the entire town know something of this disaster? Or was the problem something else entirely? Would Sakura and Kakashi face the demons of a small town? They both knew it was a possibility and both were prepared to pull themselves out of whatever situation that may try to drag them in. They had a mission and could not be distracted. If it was bad enough they could make mental note of it and send word to Tsunade to send help to the battered village.
Sakura stopped by a fruit stand and pointed at an apple. From the corner of his eye, Kakashi saw a trembling old woman. She seemed the least likely to hide anything; her body language was not subtle. Her eyes were darting back and forth from Kakashi's eyes to the headband in his hand. She may also have made a connection that could cause some problems for the two of them. There was a lot of interest and fear connected to the sharingan for her, and Kakashi knew there was only one other person besides him that held the sharingan. And he was positive that that person was not who they were looking for.
"Taki, honey, I want an apple. I've been dying to get something in my stomach since we got lost." The woman's face visibly relaxed when Sakura smiled at her. He knew that his pink haired friend was the very best at lying with her smiles. It was quite possibly their greatest weapon at this point.
"Are you sure?" At her nod he turned back to the old lady and gave a rueful look. "Women… always are wanting men to part ways with their money." His eyes crinkled in a smile. He couldn't miss her shudder however, as she looked at his eye. Her hand moved imploringly up but he turned his face just before she could see that he noticed.
"Well, if you'd prefer I starve to death…" She faked a pout up at him and he felt his cheeks go red. She was adorable that way, even if it was pretend. "I guess I don't need an apple."
"Get back here you silly brat." He ruffled her hair and pulled out his money. "So, ma'am, how has your day been?" His hand reached for a small pink lady. If he was going to spend his money, it would at least be on a fruit worth buying.
"Rather uneventful I'm afraid. You two have been the first costumers to come my way this morning. What brings you here? I heard the lady say she was lost." The beginning of her statement had her fingers twitching. Something had happened. He quirked an eyebrow at her but she just let it pass. A commoner would notice and question but not push.
"Well, yes. We got a bit distracted on the trail and wandered off quite a ways. Our tracking skills aren't exactly up to par so we just tried to find a village. We just so happened to stumble up here. We didn't sleep too good last night and hoped we might find someone to be kind enough to give us a little rest." Sakura took the cue to smile and nod hopefully at the wrinkled woman. "Do you know anyone that may be so kind?"
"Well, there is a man down the road that likes to help out strangers. Since we're on the outskirts of the forest we used to get stragglers all the time. May I ask what you have in your hand before you leave?" Her eyes fell on the shining metal that peeked from his fingers. The village symbol was barely hidden.
"We found it out in the woods. It's actually what distracted us. We found it on the ground and were curious as to who's it could be. We figured somebody here could tell us. There's a note on the back. I think someone's going to miss it." Sakura had spoken up this time, giving the woman a piercing look for only a second before turning back to look at Kakashi dotingly. "I know if my honey lost something of his, I'd want someone to return it. And I'd imagine the village would want to find one of their own as soon as possible."
The question pulsed through his mind again and Kakashi couldn't stop it: What would it feel like to have someone at home lovingly remind him to stay warm?
"She's a better liar than you, Kakashi." Was all that wrinkled, crooked smirk said.