Hey all! I had recently received reviews (all of which touched a soft part of my heart, so thank you thank you thank you for such kindness) that mentioned something along the lines of "I wish the story wasn't over". Well, I have good news! It is not :)
This write up might go until Christmas as it is still a work in progress, but I'm really excited for this occurrence. It is one of the hardest chapters to unravel properly in such a way as to do the story justice, but I'm hoping it will be worth the wait. Hang in there with me - I am done with college come the 16th so I will have more time to pen this chapter and finish it.
I feel it necessary to say thank you again for all the love and support. I am so appreciative of all of your words, it gives me the gumption to keep going!
Without ado, I present the first part of The Seventh Occurrence.
All my love,
-E
The seventh time it happens, Kakashi is dead.
It didn't start out that way, of course. After her welcome home reunion, a bleery-eyed Naruko fell haphazardly against Kakashi, who spared an "oi!" before encircling the small girl with his arms. Tsunade watched the scene unfold with an eerie calmness soothing across her spine. She nodded once to Kakashi whom, with a bow of his head, disappeared from the mass of revelers that surrounded them.
Silver and gold made themselves known to the emptiness of his living room as a small pug opened his knowing eyes. His gravelly voice was quiet enough to not disturb the woman encased in Kakashi's arms, but it was riddled with accusation.
"This is becoming quite the habit for you, Ka-ka-shi" he intoned lazily, feigning disinterest.
Kakashi blinked once at the pug as if dismissing his annoyance at the question posed to him. A shrug of his shoulders, gentle enough to not disturb Naruko, was the barest effort expended to his reply. "Think nothing of it, Pakkun," he quipped before turning towards his bedroom.
His voice was almost imperceptible, but the grit beneath his words were enough to render the dog's silence. The pug did not respond but rather found his way back into the nest of his pillow, opting out of the impending confrontation to salvage what was left to his slumber. It was too troublesome, he decided, and if his master did not want to confront the issue, then it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.
For his part, Kakashi did not blame the pug for his query. He had been avoiding his summon's questions as if they were the plague, but there was only so much one could do when the person you've known for well over two decades suddenly changes his or her patterns. A year ago he was a creature of cleanliness and washed his sheets every week just to keep things tidy. His furniture was stark and devoid of any ornaments outside of two pictures - one of his sensei, Obito, and Rin, and the other of Team Seven. He kept his fridge even sparser, more out of necessity rather than any other motive. He was always gone on one mission or another and spoiled food was more hassle than it was worth.
These days, his fridge is always stocked to the brim thanks, in part, to his sunny haired student who took over its maintenance. A well-worn frog wallet still grins knowingly up at him from his dresser, an aftermath of the time she left it there after her apartment flooded. He had thought to return it and even attempted to do so before she grinned a blinding smile and said it looked happier on his dresser than in her pocket. As if sensing his incoming insistence, she showed him a newer, mark free one stating that she had already replaced the darn thing. It makes sense to leave it there, she declared, and as quickly as it had begun, the matter was settled.
A succulent grows upon his windowsill. There are different pictures upon his walls - another of team seven, this time with everyone including Yamato and Sai, one that harbored the forests around their original team training ground, and one of Konoha at sunset. Lastly there reigned his favorite photo, a thought that startled him to realize as Kakashi seldom has favorites of anything. There it ruled atop his nightstand, depicting a scene of peace - Naruko, asleep against his shoulder beneath the shade of a tree, his own head slightly bowed in similar slumber. The shadows softened the usual stark contrast of the two of them, and in such a picture Kakashi could almost see the future - a taste of happiness, a heart filled with love. Sakura must have seen something similar, as she was the one who took such a photo after accidentally stumbling into the clearing in which they resided. She framed it and bestowed it to Naruko as a gift along with a note that mischievously said 'caught you!', and Naruko had never seemed so giddy and so flustered all at once. Kakashi does not know when or how exactly it ended up on his nightstand, but could not help but to grow fond of it, and as such, it remained.
There are errant hair ties lining his floor, hiding between his couch cushions, haunting the darkness of his drawers and cabinets. He has long since given up on trying to collect all of them - the disarray and chaotic spread of them reminds him too much of Naruko's own boisterous qualities. An orange toothbrush sits in the cup next to his own. She has a spare uniform in his closet. In his cupboards, he has more ramen than he could ever feasibly eat alone. There are orange marigolds in his garden.
The most damning of all the evidence, however, is that which he was folding the girl in question into - his bed. The sheets had not been washed since she first laid in them, a fact he would kill anyone for ever learning. The only one exempt from such a fate is the dog that snores upon his couch, for he was too fond of him to ever justify the guilt that would follow the act. But as he tucks Naruko in with a care that belies his own reputation, he cannot find it in him to garner annoyance at the realization. Somewhere amidst the whirlwind of their new found closeness, he imprinted her smell as home. It is in his clothes, in his couch cushions, in his towels - everywhere that he goes, there she is, fresh on the nose like blossoming flowers and wild wind, like spring in heady bloom. It is only fitting that she is in his pillow, in his comforter, in his bedsheets - she belongs there, here, with him. As he brushes her bangs to the side of her face, careful to not wake her, he is hit with the full force of understanding. That should she ask, he would hand her the keys to his apartment, would let her sleep in his bed and share his life until time stood still, for he knew that he would never be at home again if that home did not hold her in it. And, as dawn threatened to break upon the horizon, Kakashi kissed Naruko as she slept, as if he were sealing his fate.
As he turned to leave her to her slumber, a tan hand catches at his wrist. Eyes the color of the ocean, rimmed in tawny lashes, open to him and he knows - can feel it in the weakness to her grip - that she is not yet awake. All the same, a voice as pleading as that of a small child, rises to his ears. It is a simple request, but one in which he does not possess the strength to deny.
"Stay," she beseeches, but cannot last long enough to ensure he follows through. Her eyes close, her hand almost falls from his wrist before it is caught in his own. He is already taking off his shoes before she can even settle deep into her slumber. Kakashi crawls in beside her, sighs in relief when she turns to nuzzle into his chest, and once again wraps his arms around her form, tangling one of his hands in the silky tresses of her hair.
Resolve sits sweetly in Kakashi's chest, peace pours across his soul, and love radiates through his veins. He presses a kiss to the crown of her head and tucks her closer against his form, deciding that Pakkun will just have to get used to this new arrangement.
Because at long last, Kakashi was home.
The adjustment was not as easy as all the ones before. They would say it was accidental - Kakashi's closets just happened to harbor the orange of Naruko's spare jacket, an extra pair of her sandals, that summer dress from their first outing together. Her pajamas were replaced with his shirts, a fact Kakashi could not find fault with. Her orange towel hung on his rack. It just made sense - they were adjusting from the trauma.
Pakkun found it in himself to garner enjoyment from the boisterous blonde - in her quieter moments, which were found more often in the calmness of Kakashi's apartment, her nails managed to hit the perfect spot behind his ears. Where Kakashi's pets were gruff but riddled with affection, Naruko had a gentleness to her touch - it was if she had forgotten that he was, in fact, a summons. He often times wanted to remind her of that fact, but when she spoke to him with naught but innocent endearment heavying her tongue, he could not find it in him to break the sweetness long enough to tell her of his strength. Somewhere alongside Kakashi, Pakkun regarded Naruko as 'pack' and such estimations were impossible to undo. This realization came with the most bittersweet of thoughts - he and Kakashi were screwed.
Excuses were made. Naruko was still adjusting to her newfound strength and Kakashi had to keep an eye on her to ensure she didn't overdo it. Her apartment had been left undisturbed for well over a month, it would take too much energy to reorient herself to the space. For his part, Kakashi would say that though Naruko's chakra renewed him, he, too, had to reacquaint himself with his sharingan, and who better to test it on than Naruko with her fluctuating chakra coils. When more than four days passed and their friends looked a little too closely at the suspicious actions of Naruko and Kakashi, the two of them chalked it off to practicing a new jutsu. Naruko was sealed away for over a month, it was a valuable tool to recreate and keep in their arsenal. It was only practical to try and figure it out, they'd say, because they were the two who had the most experience with it. Naruko would make a side comment that Kurama, too, was aiding in the attempt. That was the excuse that stuck, for though curiosity weighed heavy on all of their inquiring minds, they could not deny the fact that such a jutsu could potentially come in handy should such another catastrophe strike. For Naruko and Kakashi's part, they did invest a lot of time in trying to solve the puzzle, but such could be done in the daytime. It was a front, of course, but it fit and they were not ones to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Avoiding the prying eyes of the village was a feat in and of itself, but was by far the least of their troubles. Tsunade would call Naruko away to check her vitals and ensure there was no lasting harm to her goddaughter's reserves. She would leave without saying something to Kakashi, and if such happened at night and he woke without her there, he would instantly panic. The first time it happened, he slammed open the hokage's door, fracturing it upon its frame, and with wide onyx and crimson eyes scanned straight through Naruko. She felt the chill of his terror in her bones, and as she wrapped a tan hand around the unusually white palm of his own, she vowed to never leave without telling him of her absence. She would keep her chakra in such a way that he could feel her should he ever reach out. She would not break her promise to him - she would not leave him again.
Naruko, too, had her own struggles. Though she forgave Kurama and did not fault him for anything, she could not help but toil with the feelings from her past. She had not felt such loneliness in a long, long time, and when she closed her eyes to sleep, she would dream of drowning in that same emptiness that threatened to do her in. She'd wake sobbing, tossing and turning until Kakashi anchored her back into the present. He would soothe thumbs over her tears, press kisses to her forehead, and hold her steadily long until she fell asleep. It was only when he left for a night, the fifth night, to go over a convoy mission with Tsunade, that Naruko understood how helpless she had become without him. It was nearly four in the morning before she scaled the hokage tower walls, demanded Tsunade put her back in training, and took over Kakashi's task from him. Only when he rose to excuse himself from the room, Naruko's hand once again found his, pulled him back down to the desk, and beseeched him to catch her up on all that had happened in her absence. At Tsunade's questioning arc of an elegant brow, Naruko's quip was short and final, "I am back. It is time I act like it".
Tsunade nodded her head far too innocently to ever give way to the smile she hid with the action. She had known of the budding relationship, had understood the challenges that would arise with adjusting from losing one another, and had set out to give them the time necessary to recover from the aftermath. She also knew, however, that Naruko would need the gentle nudge to resume her training, and as such purposefully took her off duty for a week. Her goddaughter might enjoy downtime, even more so when all of her time was spent with a certain jounin, but she knew how best to get the both of them back to active duty. Take them apart for just one night, and Kakashi would endure because he's honor bound (to an extent, she added), but Naruko was too hot headed and stubborn to allow for it. That is how she found herself with the morning off, with her darling goddaughter once again doing her work for her. She entrusted Kakashi with the rest of it - she had worked non stop for five days, she needed a drink, or two, or ten.
Still, as Tsunade ordered two shots of sake, no one could miss the smile she wore on her face as she downed them. Naruko was home, Kakashi was back to his old self, and it looked like Konoha could finally be at peace. Whatever lied before them could be handled without consequence, and with this lofty calmness, Tsunade ordered another round of drinks, pulled out her wallet, and sat down to play some cards. She had earned the night off, it was high time she enjoyed herself.
