AGAINST THE SKY
a/n: Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed and left some really thoughtful comments! I really appreciated the concrits and also the praise, especially about the characterizations - I find Kakashi an extremely difficult person to write, whereas I can write Sakura with a lot more ease. Anyways, from here on the chapters might seem a little shorter, but because this story was written as a one-shot, I'm just cutting it into chapters where I feel it is appropriate instead of setting some sort of word limit/goal. I'm also starting to go into uncharted waters here with Kakashi's characterization, because canon tells us nothing about how an in-love-Kakashi might be like. With him I always feel a little bit of the push/pull thing going on when his morals conflict with his desires. This thing, after all, is in shades of grey and not starkly black/white...
Cue Sasuke's entry! As a plot device only, I promise!
Cheers.
If the children don't grow up
Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up
We're just a million little gods causing rain storms
Turning everything to rust
I guess we'll just have to adjust
~Wake Up; Arcade Fire
Sakura is eighteen years old and returning to Konoha from another one of her solo missions. Except this time, it is a three-month excursion to the Hidden Sand to help them implement a new medic-training programme that she helped design. It should have only taken 3 weeks, but the Sand village is vast and quiet, and Sakura finds that she is enjoying the time away from Konoha. She needs a bit of a reprieve – a little space to think things through. Konoha is too stuffy, with its inhabitants always out and about and prying and talking more than listening, and Sakura finds that the Sand, with its wide desert and clear blue sky, is ironically like a cool draft in a steam room she is dying to get out of.
Still, her duties nag insistently at her – she is well-aware of where her loyalties lie, and when the sun sets on her eighty-fifth day in Sand, Sakura knows that she should go home.
She is a day and a half away from Konoha – and staying the night at a roadside inn – when she feels it. His chakra signature has been permanently branded into her soul, and she knows he is there even before he checks into the same inn.
Naruto has been searching fruitlessly for Sasuke for years, but has found no trace. Sasuke always was a selfish boy; no one would be able find him unless he allowed himself to be found. Sakura knows that he knows she is only several rooms away from him, but she doesn't know what he wants. She isn't even sure she knows what she wants.
When Sasuke noiselessly slides into the barstool next to hers', he is so quiet that it takes her a minute to realize that he is right there. Right there. She could just shift her arm a little and her elbow would brush his.
It's funny, Sakura thinks, that once upon a time she would have given up everything to be with this boy. She can still feel his stare boring into her, but the intensity of his gaze has mellowed into something that might have been found in his expression back when they were on the same team. Sakura doesn't let herself dwell on that thought, and orders a drink for him instead.
Many drinks later they are in his room, fumbling with zippers and clasps, but even as Sasuke nudges her onto her back there is a sort of uncertainty, a sort of hesitancy in the ways his fingers grasp at hers. Once upon a time, Sakura would have held on to that. The Sakura now knows better than to sponge colours onto a blank reality, but she appreciates it all the same. When they are done, Sakura sighs softly and pulls the covers up to her chest, staring up at the ceiling with hooded eyes. She hears Sasuke turn and watch her until she looks back at him, and then their eyes lock for the first time that night and Sakura knows that he has come to a realization: what has changed can never be restored.
Sasuke has lost count of the number of kisses she gives him that night, but behind each and every one is a sense of finality. Goodbye, Sasuke. That is what she is saying. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbyegoodbyegoodbyegoodbye-
He reaches for her again, and her eyes flutter shut.
One of the best weapons a kunoichi has is the statistically-proven fact that more than 95% of men fall into deep sleep post coitus. Shinobi males are not exempt from this fact, although the depth and length of sleep may vary and should be taken into consideration. Before Sasuke falls asleep, Sakura is just another girl, but as Sasuke drifts off, her mind unconsciously reverts to that of a seasoned kunoichi. Sasuke is no longer a missing-nin, but he is still a thorn in Konoha's side and more importantly, the precious brother that Naruto has never had. Sakura is sorely tempted. There are a dozen different ways she can ensure he stays asleep until she is well within Konoha's walls, but there is a touch of selfishness inside her that stills her overly-analytical brain. Sasuke may still be that cold and arrogant bastard who left her behind on a bench, but he has lost some of the darkness that had so thoroughly permeated his soul. Their encounter is only just reaching the fourth hour, but it becomes clear to Sakura that Sasuke is beginning to search for meaning within his life. He is still smooth and has the air of someone untouchably distant, but there is that slight hesitancy, that slight wonder, and the slight interest in something other than revenge that strikes a chord within Sakura's heart. After all, Sakura's heart had been in his grasp for so long.
Sakura softly runs her hands over his brow – unfurrowed and smooth, for once – and he stirs; she knows that if she is to act she will have to do so quickly and coldly.
She cannot do it.
Sakura takes her time pulling her clothes on, and the door closes silently behind her. Still, let it never be said that Haruno Sakura went easy on the man she had once pledged her eternal loyalty to – she sends up a cup of tea to his room (for the hangover she is certain he will wake up with) and laces it with an undetectable laxative.
It's only fair that she have a little fun at his expense. This is the bastard who left her on a cold stone bench, after all.
Sakura returns to Konoha with all four limbs intact and no Sharingan-wielding avenger hot at her heels, hell bent on – well – revenge. The two chuunin on duty at the gates give her friendly smiles and waves as she steps through, and to her surprise, there is a lone figure leaning against a light post directly in front of her. His slouch is familiar and the way he lazily gives her a finger salute in greeting makes her heart jump a little.
"Yo," Kakashi says, his eye crinkling into a familiar crease.
"Kakashi-sensei!" Sakura exclaims. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you think?" He easily falls into step with her as they walk further into the village. "Naruto is out on a mission with Sai, but he wanted to make sure that there'd be someone around to see you at the gates when you came back."
Sakura smiles fondly at the explanation before quirking her lips up slightly. "So. What is this? Some sort of guilt-trip induced favour to him?"
Kakashi fakes a sigh. "I wish. This is the first D-ranked mission I've had since I was five."
She smacks him with the back of her hand, and he stumbles slightly to the side. "Sensei!"
The eye crinkle is back. "Just kidding, Sa-ku-ra~" He looks down at her then, his eyes uncharacteristically soft. "I just wanted to see how you were doing after spending so much time away from Konoha."
Sakura looks up at the sky and sees lush greenery framing her peripheral view. The people around her are bustling with life, and there is a fresh breeze that brings the delicious smell of deep-fried octopus to her nose.
"I think I really missed home," Sakura confesses, exhaling loudly through her mouth. The thought surprises her – she never realized how comforting home was and how much she subconsciously missed it until she was back within its walls. "I missed the houses and the market and all the faces on Hokage mountain and the green-ness of Konoha. I missed all the people. I missed Ino's pigheadedness and shishou's drunken temper tantrums and Naruto's energy. Hell, I even missed you, sensei." She attaches herself to his arm at the last remark and looks up at him with a look of fake adoration, and he laughs. Sakura herself dissolves into giggles, but even as she turns away from him to look back at the street in front of her, she lets one gloved hand linger on the curve of his elbow.
The sun is beginning to set now; Sakura and Kakashi make it into the middle of town in time for the evening energy of Konoha's inhabitants to fully explode into a beautiful, nightly mess of lights and sounds. Sakura beams, soaking in the vibrant life that Konoha is made of, and then she sees Kakashi looking at her with an unfamiliar expression in his single, hooded eye.
"Welcome home, Sakura," he says, and then the lights from the multicoloured lanterns hanging overhead strike his face ijust so and she is suddenly overcome with the realization that Kakashi is looking at her – really looking at her –and oh, Sakura thinks.
Oh, oh, oh.
Sakura considers falling in love with Hatake Kakashi the Greatest Miscalculation of her life. Other Great Miscalculations she has lived through include befriending Naruto, coming to care about Naruto, realizing she will now gladly sacrifice her life for Naruto, and Sai (no other explanation necessary). See, she is eighteen now, and once upon a time she was supposed to be – at the very least – in a committed, long-term relationship with one Uchiha Sasuke. In two years they were supposed to be married, and in another two she was supposed to have their first child. They would probably continue having children periodically until she was thirty-five, at which she would decide to put her foot down and stop. She was supposed to help Sasuke repopulate his clan. She was supposed to become his wife. She was supposed to be the one he loved enough to kill for.
Well. Life's a bitch, and Sakura finds herself in love with the man who took – when she was twelve years old – terrible, sadistic pleasure in reminding her in the most awful (embarrassing) of ways that his nose was better than most canines on the days when her monthly visitor visited (and then subsequently overstayed said visit, in Sakura's most professional opinion).
It's not even like he somehow had a huge personality overhaul and then Sakura saw that he was now a very fine specimen of man. He was just Kakashi-sensei. He just had to be himself. All he did was give her that look, and Sakura knew she was done for. If her preteen feelings for Sasuke were overwhelmingly passionate like brilliant fireworks on a frosty winter evening, then the way she felt for Kakashi now could only be described in the context of the seemingly endless ocean – when storms blow in, its waves crash and rage in rolls of fury and power, but when the sun is out and all is still, the serenity is magnificent in its quiet grace. It is all up and down and topsy turvy but so, so real and there. Fireworks are short and fleeting, but the ocean remains.
Sakura knows she is in real trouble. Kakashi is a grown man – an elite within Konoha's ranks – of thirty-two, and she is but a mere eighteen-year-old. The fact that she can smash rocks and chop down trees with her bare fists does not make a difference – she is eighteen and he is thirty-two and that should be the end of that.
But Sakura has never been one to back down from anything. What she wants, she will chase. She does not want to settle for simply watching his back as he walks away from her, time and time again.
This time, she will run. She will run until she catches up to him. And when she catches up, she will-
Figure it out when she gets there.
Found within the depths of Konoha's library:
Clause 4: In the case of two individuals where one has martial authority over the other, any relationship of a non-platonic nature (including sexual) is expressly forbidden. This includes, but is not limited to, teacher-student relationships in the case of jounin-led genin cells. Consequences for failing to comply with this law include dishonourable discharge from shinobi ranks and possible banishment from the Hidden Village of Konoha.
Amendment 1 (June 14, 1974):
Drafted under the power and legal authority of the Sandaime Hokage
The Hokage is exempt from this law.
Amendment 2 (March 26, 1987):
Drafted under the power and legal authority of the Yondaime Hokage
Persons above the legal age of consent (16) are exempt from this law, provided that the relationship began while both individuals were above the legal age of consent (16).
The summer heatwave is in full force and Sakura can feel the sweat running down her shoulder blades as the gates of Konoha come into view. The mission they just completed was a simple one, but no mission is officially over until the mission report is safe in Tsunade's hands.
As soon as the four ninja step into Konoha, Naruto predictably skives off with vague excuses of needing to feed his fish, and Sai disappears in a puff of smoke before Sakura has a chance to fix a death glare on his forehead.
"Oh, no you don't," Sakura growls, and reaches out in time to grab Kakashi, who is just beginning to slink away.
"Ahaha…" Kakashi's sheepish expression makes her scowl harder.
"Sensei! You're the team leader, you're the one supposed to write and hand-in the mission report!"
"Ah, but you're already so adept at forging my signature and writing nice flowery things about our missions, Sakura-chan-"
"That's because when I was 12, you taught me how to forge your signature so that you could disappear after every mission you went on and I was stupid enough to believe that you had more important things to do!"
"Ah, so cold, Sakura-chan-"
"Just be quiet and come with me, or you'll be eating a knuckle sandwich for lunch."
The mission report is written and handed-in without much hassle, mainly because Kakashi knows that it's easier just to go along with Sakura's proddings. They have just stepped over the entrance of the Hokage Tower before Kakashi stops and looks at her. Sakura pretends to be preoccupied with adjusting her gloved hand into a position to shield the sun's rays from her eyes to avoid meeting his gaze. He seems to think for a moment and then continues walking, Icha Icha already open in his hand; his abrupt departure jostles her into hurrying to catch up with him.
"Tell me something, Sakura," he suddenly says, free hand sliding into his pocket. "Why do you still call me 'sensei'? It's been years since I taught you anything."
Sakura stretches her arms out behind her back and thinks for a moment. "I don't know. It's just. I guess that I feel that there's always still something you can teach me."
Kakashi stops. Startled, Sakura backtracks two steps and waits for him to speak. He shuts his book close with a soft snap and turns full towards her.
"Do you have a summons, Sakura?"
She thinks of Tsunade's sweet-tempered slug summon and can't help but shudder delicately – she loves Katsuyu and probably owes the creature a life or two, but still. "Nope. I never got around to asking shishou."
"I could teach you to summon an animal, and then you can decide whether or not to enter a blood contract with it," he continues. His tone is as impassive as ever, but Sakura can see this is a genuine offer. Kakashi's loyal pack of ninken is almost as well-known as the man himself, and this is something that he has never taught Sasuke or Naruto. Granted, Sasuke and Naruto were both taught this technique years ago, but still – it will be something that Kakashi taught only Sakura. Only Sakura.
"Really?"
His eye smile crinkles at her. "Call me 'Kakashi' only from now on, and we'll call it a deal."
Summoning, for Sakura, turns out to be much easier than expected. She remembers the days when Naruto would moan endlessly about only managing to summon tadpoles and uncooperative froglets, and squeals with delight when – one her first try – a full-sized ginger cat appears in a puff of smoke.
She waits with bated breath as the cat looks her up and down, Kakashi's hand a firm weight on her shoulder to keep her from doing anything foolish. Cats are, after all, known to be temperamental.
"Hmm," the cat suddenly sniffs. "You're not as excited as most other people are at the sight of a summons."
"It's not that I'm not excited!" Sakura's hands gesticulate wildly. "It's just – I-I didn't want to irritate you right off the bat with noise and whatnot."
The cat peers thoughtfully at the pink-haired teenager in front of him. It has been a while since the small group of cats he lives with has bound themselves to a human – and with good reason too.
Small movement from the corner of his eye catches the cat's attention. There is another human behind the first. Brilliant yellow eyes widen as the cat recognizes the man.
"You're Hatake Kakashi! Contracted with Pakkun's pack, right?"
The man nods silently, slightly bewildered that a cat from another dimension had heard about him.
"If you see him anytime soon, tell him that Mikkan wants his bottle of scented shampoo back." A slightly awkward silence ensues, in which Kakashi's chin jerks down in a sort-of nod and Mikkan imeowsa yawn. "Anyways," the cat turns back to Sakura. "Come here, girl. Gimme your scroll."
"I'm Sakura," the pink-haired girl hesitantly offers, kneeling down and unrolling the small orange scroll in her hands before locking eyes again with the cat.
"I like you, Sakura. You're not like most of the other humans I've met so far." The cat is frank and straight-forward – not quite expected, but the characteristic is welcome all the same. "We'll make a contract with you on one condition."
Sakura unconsciously swallows, but Kakashi's presence behind her is strong and unwavering – he knows this process better than she does, and if he hasn't stepped in to speak yet, there's no reason for her to be apprehensive.
Another small cloud of smoke suddenly surrounds Mikkan, and Sakura blinks at the five newcomers – all tortoise-shell pattered in various shades of black, white, and ginger orange.
"Think you can stomach sharing your bed with six clingy cats?"
The contract is signed without massive amounts of bleeding on either parties, and one of the smaller cats – no more than a kitten, really – has to be dragged away from Sakura's gentle hands by the tail back to the group by an irritated Mikkan. When the small puff of smoke takes away the pile of cats, silence reigns on the training ground for a moment.
"Well." Sakura starts. "That was rather. Anti-climactic."
Kakashi shakes his head. "Trust me, it's better that way. Cats don't tend to bind themselves to a singular human. They prefer tight-knit shinobi clans as a general rule."
Sakura nods thoughtfully, and then her expression brightens. "Anyways, thanks so much, Kakashi-sensei! I wouldn't have known what to expect if you weren't here."
He raises an eyebrow at her. "What happened to leaving the 'sensei' off?"
Sakura blushes. "It's kind of weird though, isn't it…I mean, you're still my superior. And I've called you 'sensei' since I was twelve."
"I do believe I said we were equals after you and Naruto managed to get those bells from me years ago, didn't I?" Kakashi asks lightly, hands sliding back into their default position in his pockets.
"You're still a whole lot better at being a ninja than I am," Sakura mutters, arms crossing and beginning the long walk back into town.
Kakashi smiles slightly at that, and wordlessly drops into step beside her.
They start sparring together after that. It's nice, Sakura thinks, to be able to train with someone she can go all out against without worrying about niceties. Naruto always goes easy against her and Sai has no interest in helping her master ninjutsu. Ino sucks at close-range fighting and Sakura always feels like a bad person asking Lee for help, because she knows the boy will just take it as a sign that she might be opening up to his continued advances.
Sakura still has yet to see Kakashi unmasked. She asks and pleads and begs and tries to strike bargain after bargain with him until one day, Kakashi smirks, "I'll let you see, but I can't be held responsible when you fall in love with me."
Sakura blushes madly and stomps away, leaving behind a chuckling Kakashi. He watches as she disappears around the corner and then exhales, rubbing the back of his head idly, all the while wondering what the hell was wrong with himself.
