Once a person reaches a certain age, they forget what it is like to be young.

By this point, one forgets the true wisdom and depth of the teenage mind and becomes wrapped up in the assumption that years determine capability.

Kakashi is petrified to know that he has almost gotten there.

Sakura is standing before him looking for all the world like an enraged Tsunade (with obvious alterations). Her defiant glare holds his astounded gaze steadily and she positively dares him to say the words that she knows were on his lips.

"I know you care for me, Kakashi, and yes, I am sixteen and you are thirty. Who the hell cares? This is not a phase and I will not just get over you. I can tell when I am in love, and you cannot possibly say that you believe I can't!" she raged, poking a finger in his chest (a finger he hopes will remain devoid of chakra for the duration of this confrontation).

"I was going to make no such accusations," he replies weakly, keeping a wary watch on her chakra flow, "and how are you so sure that my feelings for you are not totally platonic?"

While he knows that he does, in fact, care for her very deeply, he also knows that he is not the best person for her to settle on. He is not fond of housework, he hates cooking, and he obviously lacks the ability to do anything on time. He has not had a functional relationship in a decade. Also, there is the slim possibility that some people might think that any relationship between them would be lewd and immoral. Kakashi does not plan to mention this, though, because he does not care much for others and their irrelevant opinions.

At this pathetic answer, Sakura's semi-anger dissipated, leaving only her confidence (which aggravates him because he knows it is warranted).

"You know, Kakashi, it's pretty much inevitable," her smooth words begin as she steps forward and angles her mouth upwards so he can better fantasize about her lips, "If you don't give in now, I'll just catch you during a weak moment. You know, like when you're reading your porn."

At her last words, he rolls his eyes hopelessly.

She is right.

He stares at her a moment, then acquiesces by huffing an exasperated sigh and reaching out to pull her body against him. When he leans down to kiss her, he tries to maintain the annoyed air, but she bites his lip and he has to give in and laugh.

"Okay, but just keep in mind my many, many faults," he says in what he hopes resembles his too-cool-to-care tone he reserves for moments when he has been bested.

"Oh, no worries, if I'd wanted perfection, I would have gone for someone like Neji."

Somehow, this kind of declaration does not shock him as one would think it would. Instead, he just grabs her hand and wanders in the general direction of his apartment (that he figures will soon be hers, too, if she deems it worthy).

"You would never dream of dating Neji…"

Sakura manages, for a second, to hope that he may be about to break character and make some romantic declaration of everlasting love and devotion.

"His hair is prettier than yours."

On the other hand, he could have been about to ensure his spot on the couch for the first week of their relationship.