Disclaimer: I still don't own Naruto or any of the people/places found in his home world.

Author's Note: Woo! I got it up faster! Sorry it's not as long as previous chapters (and chapters to follow) but I couldn't go too far ahead in time for the sake of not being so confusing and all, since the next chapter takes place pretty much the same night as well. I don't need to get too off between chapters and all or things will get really confusing with the time jumps and order of events. It wouldn't be good for me to confuse myself, as well, after all. So, this is a sort of filler chapter, I guess - looking deeper into emotions/relationships/whatnot, in a way. Building tension . . . maybe a little foreshadowing . . . a healthy mix of humor and drama. The next chapter should be up soon. It's one that I had the idea for and started writing a while ago, and it's almost done. Just putting the finishing touches to the end. Anyway, without any more rambling from me, enjoy!

Chapter 10: Butting Heads

ASHLEY

I'm wakin' up at the start of the end of the world,

But it's feeling just like every other morning before.

Now I wonder what my life is gonna mean if it's gone.

-Matchbox Twenty ("How Far We've Come")

It's strange how walking into Kakashi's apartment feels like I'm coming home. I stand just inside the doorway and look around the humble quarters with a faint smile on my face as my silver-haired comrade locks the door and shuffles about doing whatever it is he does whenever he comes back to the place - apparently checking everything to make sure nothing has been disturbed - a clear signal that someone was in his apartment while he was not. He doesn't seem to be finding anything, but I don't want to bother him, so I just smile and watch.

Feeling my gaze, Kakashi pauses and glances back at me, cocking his head slightly to one side in a quizzical manner. "Is something the matter?" he asks.

I shake my head, my soft smile remaining in place. "No, of course not. I'm just happy to be back here - with you." I feel my cheeks warm slightly. "I was just thinking that it feels like - coming home."

Kakashi studies me for a moment with his single eye before smiling, that eye transforming into an upside-down 'u'. "I'm glad you think that." My heart flutters in my chest as he returns to his task, moving deeper into the apartment and out of my sight. I put a hand to my chest, feeling a slight giggle threaten to bubble up. Despite all the bad news, I'm happy. We may be about to go to war, but I'm confident in Kakashi's abilities. He has survived a shinobi war before; he can do it again. Konoha won't lose to the Akatsuki. It can't.

My masked companion returns, and I direct my smile at him once more. "All clear?"

He nods and confirms, "All clear."

"Why do you do that, anyway?" I ask.

Kakashi shrugs one shoulder. "You can never be too careful," he says. After a short pause, he chuckles. "Also, having Naruto as my student has taught me to keep an eye out for traps - or pranks, in his case - again."

I cock my head. "Again?"

"You can never be too careful," Kakashi repeats, "especially during war." I fall silent. Talk about a mood killer. "Oh, and your room is ready, as well. Everything is where you left it. I didn't touch any of your stuff." I giggle at the statement and the almost defensive way it was made. Kakashi blinks at me. "What?"

Again, I shake my head and step over to him. "You're so cute when you do that," I inform the shinobi patting his arm fondly.

Kakashi blinks again. "Do what?"

I giggle. "Act all innocent, of course." Standing on my toes, I plant a kiss on his cloth-covered cheek. "Thank you. I'm going to get a shower now."

The man's eye-smile seems to shift slightly as he comprehends my words. "Is that an invitation," he asks with a wink. Or, I think it's a wink, at least. The effect is somewhat ruined by the fact that his other eye is covered.

Laughing, I grab a pillow from his couch and hurl it - with my oddly-perfect sense of accuracy that comes with this world - at his head. "No! And you'd better not peek, either!" I don't watch to see if the pillow hits, turning on my heel and hurrying upstairs toward my room. Behind me, Kakashi laughs and then lets out an almost disappointed groan.

"But Ashleeeeyyy," he draws out, making me force down a giggle as a grab my pajamas - light blue with a pattern of green leaves drifting across the fabric. For a brief moment, I stare down at the fabric, and before my eyes, the leaves all seem to burn - blacken - die. "Why not?"

I blink several times. When my vision clears, the leaves are as green as ever. I shake myself and yell back. "Shut up, or I'll have to shut you up!" I've lost some of my previous humor, though - the cheerful light that I had been riding but minutes earlier. It died with the leaves - imaginary though they were.

"And how do you plan to do that?" he calls teasingly back, his voice getting closer. "You'll have to keep my mouth pretty busy, I think."

I should be indignant after that comment. I should throw something at him - maybe the pajamas in my hands. Then, he'll easily catch them and hold them hostage, laughing and running off with some nefariously perverted plot. I'll run after him, laughing and playing along, and we'll have a grand ol' time forgetting about the coming war.

I should, but I can't.

I can't tear my gaze from the cheerfully green leaves.

I can't tear my thoughts from the doom and gloom.

I can't tear my heart away from the all-consuming fear.

"Ashley?" Gentle fingers take a hold of my chin and force my head up - my gaze up. Kakashi studies me worriedly. "Something is the matter," he declares, a frown apparent on his face despite the mask and headband covering most of it. "Tell me."

My hands tighten around the fabric of the pajamas. "I'm scared," I admit softly. "It just . . . dawned on me, I guess. We're going to war."

Kakashi shakes his head. "You're wrong. We are. You're not."

I frown and swat his hand away in annoyance. "I'm not just going to sit back and do nothing. I'm not going to just watch as you go out and get yourself killed! I can't do that, Kakashi!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he replies, sounding bemused.

"I'm serious," I snap back. "I want to help. I have to do something."

Kakashi's visible eye hardens. "You're not going out there," he tells me. "When the time comes, you will do as you're told and stay back with the civilians where it's safe."

"While you go gallivanting off where it's not? No!"

"We can't have you out there. You would just get in the way."

"I won't just get in the way! I can help - like I helped against Hidan and Kakuzu! I can handle it, Kakashi!"

"No. You can't. This isn't a game, Ashley. This is war."

"I know! I'm not a little kid! I can handle it! Just give me a chance."

"You're staying here, and that's final."

I throw up my arms, giving a frustrated huff and demanding hotly, "Why are you so against me helping?"

"Because I don't want to lose you again!" Kakashi shouts back, finally losing his previous calm. My retort falls unsaid as I stare at him, stunned. His jaw is tight beneath the mask, and his breathing comes heavily through his nose as he stares back at me with one wild eye. After several heartbeats of silence, he turns on his heel and vanishes from my room.

I can't move. I know I should follow him - stop him - but I can't. The apartment door opens and then slams shut, making me flinch and breaking me from my stunned revere. "Kakashi," I breathe. Eyes widening, I rush downstairs and practically hurl myself out the front door. "Kakashi, wait!"

But he's gone. I chased him away. Biting back tears of guilt, frustration, and who knows what else, I turn and hurry back into the apartment. Shower. Maybe after a warm shower, I'll feel better. Pajamas still in hand, I retreat to the bathroom and the relaxing rush of hot water. To be honest, it doesn't make me feel much better. When I emerge, I'm still as worried and high-strung as ever.

Drying my hair with the towel, I move about the apartment. "Kakashi?" There's no answer; he's not back yet. Worrying my lower lip, I grip the towel around my shoulders and peer out a window into the night. Where could he have gone? Is he coming back? He has to. Heaving a sigh, I turn away from the dark village and resume drying my hair.

I take my time, toweling it dry and brushing it - all the while waiting for Kakashi to return. When still he doesn't, I turn a hairdryer on it. I'm not all that surprised Kakashi owns one, to tell the truth. The process takes longer than usual, as I keep turning the hairdryer off and listening, thinking I've heard the door open. Each time is a false alarm, and I sullenly return to work. Even when my hair is totally dry - and looking rather nice, if I do say so myself - he still hasn't returned.

I glare at myself in the mirror, mentally griping over the fact that drying my hair and brushing it out so nicely is pointless, since it'll just get messed up when I go to bed. So, with a growl of frustration, I mess it up myself and stalk out of the bathroom. Dressed in my pajamas and a light kimono-like robe that I found on the back of the bathroom door, I pace the apartment, casting my gaze out each window and pausing from time to time to merely stare at the door as if I could will him to return out of sheer force.

The clock declares silently that it's well past midnight, and I sink onto the couch and sit there stiffly - determined to wait for him. The minutes tick away, and my resolve diminishes. I pull my knees to my chest and set my chin on them, feeling oddly hollow. Why did I have to yell at him? Losing my temper like that is just ammunition for him to prove that I'm not ready to deal with the shinobi life. Maybe he's right. No! What am I saying? I want to help!

Groaning, I bury my face in my arms, folded over my knees. Breathing deeply, a scent tickles my nose. I lift my head and sniff my arm - the fabric of the robe. For a moment, I can't place the smell. It's almost like ozone - like the scent that rides the air preceding a thunderstorm - like the smell of lightning. Kakashi. Smiling faintly, I snuggle deeper into the robe and breathe it in - hardly noticing when my eyelids droop - when I start to drift to sleep - when the door opens.

A gentle hand brushes loose hair from my face. Strong arms wrap around me and lift me from my cramped position on the couch. A heart beats a steady rhythm against my ear, lulling me deeper into sleep. A voice speaks softly somewhere above me as I'm lowered onto a softer and more comfortable surface. Warmth envelopes me, and the last thing I feel before sinking at last into the arms of sleep is the touch of lips against my forehead.