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Chapter Thirteen

Sensei! The voice of her sweet Kimiko begs as the ominous droning of impending doom looms in from the trees surrounding Konoha. Sakura tries to run toward the sound of the girl's voice, but it's dark and everything seems to spin like some sick merry-go-round before her. Kimi! she calls to the girl, lacking every bit of composure that she had wanted so badly to maintain. She cannot contain her sob as she calls to the girl once more. Sensei! the girl continues with a rushed, anguished tone, Help me! Hel- Kimiko's screams are so suddenly cut short.

Sakura-sensei! Kyoya's voice takes on a childlike tone only prompted by fear, one which she has never heard. Sakura flips herself in the direction of his voice. Help! he calls. They took her! He breathes hard, and Sakura can almost feel his scared, hopeless tears on her hands just as they hit skin and run red like freshly spilt blood. He calls no more.

Sakura's knees hit the ground and she runs blood-soaked hands through her matted pink locks. A distant sound approaches in the wood, and she freezes. Shaking, she tries to summon strength into her fists, but no chakra circulates at her attempt. She tries again, and again, and still- nothing. It's only then, after expending all that waster energy, that she opens her eyes and feels her heart flatten at the sight before her.

Pink hair, scattered on the ground around her.

She's not even certain at what point she hears the footsteps steadily approaching on the grass. Fear strikes the very core of her heart as she realizes the sudden presence. Wildly, emeralds lift to the sight before her, though she can only make out his outline in the impossibly dim shadows of the forest.

"S-Sasuke…" a small voice escapes her mouth, and she doesn't even compute that it has.

He limps toward her, blood dripping from somewhere- his arm? His neck?

You were supposed to protect us, his voice strangles her heart.

You said everything would be okay.

You lied.

You failed.

Akira limps forward from the shadows and stares directly into her eyes. Black seeps into the whites of his eyes and a sickening yellow overtakes the sweet honey tone of his cornea. Too late, Sakura realizes the hemorrhaging of his neck. A bite mark, infecting him before her very eyes. The black marks stem quickly from the scar- the cursed seal- and he transforms before her. Useless, he says once before stealing the light from her life.

Sakura swore she heard the screams- a cacophony of everything she loved, calling to her in utter desperation- streaming in through the window even as she woke. Her sheets and clothing stuck to the thin sheen of sweat coating the entirety of her body. Sickness stirred restlessly in her stomach and Sakura prepared to heave over the side of the bed. The nausea, luckily, subsided after a solid moment of conscientious stillness. Sakura continued to stare into the white nothingness of her ceiling, allowing the thoughts to fester along with the lingering screams of her subconscious. Too afraid to consider it all for a moment longer, Sakura sat up a little too quickly and ran tired hands over her face. At the sight of the forest across the village, the sound of their mortality- of the cruel possibilities of life- rang in her ears and Sakura's heart fell from its place. She tore herself away from the window and she stared down at her feet as she ambled slowly out of her room and down the hallway.

The sound of light whistling filled her ears, accompanied by the calm sizzle of a skillet and the murmur of morning radio. Warm, batter swept lovingly into her nostrils as she walked sheepishly across the hardwood to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. Sunlight streamed kindly over his lean form as he stood there before the stove. A golden halo traced itself around his endearingly lanky figure, which looked even more lanky in a sweater and baggy sweatpants. Clearly lost somewhere in his own world, he continued his whistling and swept a note into a jolly crescendo as he propelled a single flapjack into a stylish flip. Sakura watched it come back to the skillet with a flop.

His mini-concerto came to a halt as Kakashi tossed a glance at her over his shoulder, "Ah, I see my culinary talent wakes even the dead." Like clockwork, he flipped the flapjack onto a stack of several others and poured a careful dose of batter back onto the pan. "I checked on you about an hour ago, but you didn't look like you needed to see the light of day- here I am."

Sakura felt a familiar tinge of warmth burgeon in her gut.

"Did you know you twitch in your sleep?" he wondered aloud, not giving her time to answer before he shrugged it off.

She would've managed a laugh had she not suddenly choked on a lump in her throat at the beautiful thing he was- the thing that so naturally took her pain away.

"I'm really not sure how you feel about breakfast in this stage of your condition," he said mostly to himself, "but I think I've decided that you have to eat. No negotiations. Just take a forkful, and- " Kakashi turned fully toward her for a moment and any trace of a smile fell from his face.

Sakura hadn't even felt the sting of tears entering her vision. One moment, Kakashi was saying something about breakfast, and the next, she was just a blubbering mess, lingering in the doorway of his kitchen. Kakashi put the skillet down and stepped prudently toward her, head tilted ever so slightly in that endearing way of his. "Sakura," he said her name with warmth that not another soul on the planet could manage.

Sakura launched herself into his embrace and allowed her tears, every ounce of fear she felt in her heart, to empty. Tightly, she wrapped herself around him and buried her face into his chest, grasping his back with desperate hands if only to make sure that he was real. That this was all real. That it was all okay.

Kakashi looked down at the woman in a mix of mild confusion and certain concern. Tears leaked noticeably from her eyes and into the fabric of his black sweater. She was a confused little sight, really; the way she swapped between pressing an ear to his chest and burrowing her nose into the fabric of his sweater. All the while, she muttered little reassurances; little attempts to compose herself. Her shoulders did not shake, and a sob did not escape her lips. She simply cried. Blinking away his thoughts, Kakashi responded to her sudden embrace with an equal serving of reassurance. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he lowered a cheek atop her head and stood with her in the middle of his kitchen; flapjack burning on the skillet, and morning radio mumbling steadily in the backdrop.

"They're just so little," she said in a small, breaking voice that muffled against his chest.

Kakashi blinked his realization and took the images of cursed seals, unleashed kyuubis, and severed pink hair as they came. Brow furrowing as he closed his eyes solemnly, he held her just a little tighter. "So were you."

"Kimiko!" Kyoya pointed an assertive finger at his teammate. "You spare that chipmunk, right now."

The blonde looked at the bespectacled boy with narrowed eyes, kunai in one hand, and chipmunk tail in the other. The creature swung furiously in her grasp. "There's only one way to deal with traitors in the Leaf Village," she spoke boldly. The blade of her kunai shined in the sunlight. "Death."

"Oh dear God," Akira groaned his frustration at the girl's overwhelming and enduring sense of melodrama; he plopped his face into his palm. Still, he maintained his distance from the altercation his teammates felt the need to entertain.

Truth be told, the team had acquired the necessary scrolls some two hours ago. As it turned out, Akira had discovered, typical twelve year olds faltered quite quickly under the stare of the Senju boy. Actually obtaining the second scroll, their key out of the muck and misery, had come within a matter of seconds. Whilst Kyoya and Kimiko had worked on getting the team clean water and warm food, Akira had stumbled across a troop of Kiri, much to the mist nin's dismay. Apparently, the dark haired boy's prowess spread even beyond that of his classmates and Konoha. Akira didn't so much as lock eyes with the group before their scroll hit the ground and they disappeared into the bushes.

Of course, that was not to say that Team Sakura had not had their share of strife.

The chipmunk had worked its little, furry way into the group dynamic with not so much as a squeak in Kimiko's direction. With as much love and maternal devotion as the typically tomboyish girl could show, she had doted, toted, and loved on the little creature with everything she had. Essentially, she probably considered that damn thing to be more a part of Team Sakura than their new, mask cladded sensei would ever be.

However, this friendship only lasted as long as the chipmunk's apparent mission took to transpire. Long story short- as soon as the scroll was within reach, the chipmunk- an Iwagakure faithful, it turned out- had taken it and run, as fast as its little legs could carry it.

And here they were, dealing with the after effects of an infiltrating rodent.

"Kimiko," Kyoya calmed himself once more, "the poor thing was just following orders. It's not to blame for your getting attached, now is it?"

Kimiko was further perturbed by the boy's understanding tone. "Tch!" she scoffed her disbelief. Her grip was steadfast on the rodent, who looked uncertainly about.

Akira watched them stare daggers into each other. They were getting nowhere very slowly, it seemed. It was only a matter of time before a foe of actual threat approached them. And while Akira felt confident enough in his abilities to protect himself, he couldn't escape the small nagging in his gut, the one where a certain pink haired woman's words came to fester and burgeon little seedlings of concern within him.

Your precious people, she had said, in that impossibly aggravating and impossibly calming tone of hers. Protect them.

Recalling her words with a sigh, Akira closed his eyes and stood. As the shouting match proceeded between his two teammates, the Senju came to stand in the crossroads. Each noted his presence with confusion and ceased their shouting with abruption.

Calmly, Akira took each of Kimiko's hands, placing her kunai back into its holster and prying the chipmunk from her stubborn hand.

He held the chipmunk directly before his eye line and squinted his suspicion. "I presume you won't come scurrying back here," he spoke to the quivering creature, "now will you?"

Akira lowered the rodent to the ground, where it skeptically looked about before darting off into the shadows. Dusting his hands off, the tan boy stood and faced the bewildered looking pair.

"Now that we've settled that," he spoke in a low, slightly frustrated tone, "I think it's about time we get the hell out of this forest."

"Not. So. Fast," an unfamiliar voice spoke from the branches before a rush of wind came whooshing at the trio from the north.

Looking to Kimiko and Kyoya with an alien emotion stirring in his belly, Akira observed as the two armed themselves with kunai and gazed toward their impending foe with furrowed brows. Neither faltered. Neither seemed anything but ready. Akira fought a smile that tugged at his features as he himself pulled out a kunai and awaited the oncoming fight.

Several, foreign chakra signatures approached.

Sunlight poured delicately in through the branches and over her distant features. An unaware hand held firmly to the rim of the tea she had poured minutes ago but never bothered to lift to her lips; lips which she bit at relentlessly in a way that Kakashi found both inviting and concerning. Weary, dark grey eyes searched emerald for some trace of thought. It was pointless. Having been there once himself, he knew exactly where she was. It was painted the distance in her eye, the pitter-patter of her heartbeat, and the distinct shade of fear permeating in the pheromones that tickled at Kakashi's sensitive olfactory perception. The Sakura sitting before him was one he knew too well; one that worried too much, that trusted the fates too little, and more than anything had such little faith in herself. Her eye remained steady on the horizon, on the trees in the distance. Her mind was with her team.

"Sakura," he finally called to her, concern soaking his voice.

Emerald snapped to meet his gaze and immediately creased with signs of a smile. She sniffed humor at this. "Kaka-sensei," she spoke in a teasing voice, "frowns lead to wrinkles, and I suspect you don't need anything else adding to your," she chuckled, "older image."

Kakashi rolled his eyes and thumbed his book open.

Sakura groaned, promptly reaching across to shut his book. "I'm only kidding!" she assured him, a dazzling smile breaking through. "Please, don't. Distract me. Keep me occupied."

Kakashi lifted a brow, "Keep you occupied? Sakura-chan, I hate to break it to you this way, but I believe that's how we ended up in this particular predicament- " He shut his mouth with a grin as she gave him a rough slap to the arm. "Occupy you how?" he implored with a lingering laugh.

"I dunno," she pouted, crossing her arms disappointedly. And suddenly, as if lightning struck, a small smile burgeoned on lovely pink lips and she batted her pretty pink lashes in his direction.

Kakashi's eyes went dim with suspicion. "What is it," he deadpanned.

She shrugged, taking a sip of her tea, feigning innocence.

He narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Say it."

"Nnno."

"Say it!"

"No!"

"Say it or I'll tickle you where I know it makes you pee."

Sakura narrowed her eyes at this, though quickly regained her smirk.

"Why don't you tell me about," she batted her illustrious eyes in an exaggerated fashion as she leaned closer to him, "Shina-senpai."

Kakashi closed his eyes in a pained fashion. Something told him he wasn't getting out of this one easily.

The sound of air rushing past her ears made Kimiko want to turn around, to slow, to turn to the ground and start running. Something about dashing through the trees had never felt natural, and even more so, just made her feel like she had something to run from. She felt a strong inclination to look over her shoulder, to divert her attention to the clash of metal behind her, to the approaching feeling of other, foreign chakra signatures. But Akira's words sounded clearly in her mind.

"Just run," he had said, "keep running. Don't look back. We'll be right behind you."

And as much as she wanted to turn, if only to feel like anyone was there with her in the darkness of the forest, she kept going. At the end of it all, she trusted Akira's judgment.

The Suna nin had exacted on them as if they'd been stalking prey. They struck with merciless precision, a gust of wind that rattled the trees and nearly swept the security out from beneath their feet. It was no sooner that the three sand ninja stood before them, demanding the scroll with such a sense of entitlement, that Akira had made use of their supply of smoke bombs. Stumbling blindly through the musky purple cloud, Kimiko had felt a tug at her shirt and responded with aggression. Kunai pressed to Akira's throat, she had lowered it with a noncommittal apology and watched as he prepared for the ensuing fight. It was no sooner after his demand that she run and keep running that he had stuffed the scrolls into her pack and clamped a hand on her shoulder. Stern, honey eyes stared into her own eyes with steadfast resolve. Still, she couldn't help but notice the nearly inconspicuous hesitance as he cast one last look at her before flickering away and into the ensuing battle.

She arrived at the rendezvous point within minutes, anxiously awaiting any sight of her two teammates. A sort of anger bubbled in her gut. Why did it always seem that she was left to wonder? It was a terrifying and frustrating thing to await the safe return of those dear to you, one that hit Kimiko so fast and so hard that the wind caught in her throat, leaving her at a level of vulnerability she would never grow accustomed to. She didn't even entirely notice the presence looming in the shadows, watching her, with growing intrigue.

It had been one of those delectably perfect afternoons of absolutely nothing for the two of them. Kurenai had always said that the fastest way to a woman's heart was through a strong combination of sweets and bad TV movies. After the episode in the kitchen that morning, Kakashi had decided it was about time he brought in the big guns. Sitting in the lazy, lamp-lit light of her lilac walled room, Kakashi yielded to her every desire. Sadly, her desires mostly consisted of honeydew ice cream that could only be found in one convenient store across the village and hearing about his embarrassing past.

Sakura's laughter overwhelmed the volume of the TV and sounded throughout the halls of his home. It was by some stroke of lucky, he decided, that the fates had endowed him with his mask, otherwise the laughter would have felt much more incriminating. Despite the growing blush on his cheeks, Kakashi emitted a stream of soft chuckles, mostly tickled just watching Sakura in her state of utter hilarity. Her face only seemed to blend into her hair as she gasped futilely for breath, for some relief, from her utter elation.

"Sh-," Sakura failed to speak through the giggles, "she used to make you do that?!"

"Aa," Kakashi responded with remnants of a chuckle as he watched her, chin nonchalantly perched on his palm. "I was but a horny teenaged boy. You expected me to refuse?"

With a snort, Sakura began to compose herself, face still flushed with laughter, "Well no. But what about all those talks about self-respect that you used to throw at us?"

Kakashi replayed the words she spoke of in his mind. Funny, he thought to himself as an absent sort of smile placed itself on his unaware lips. Minato had always been so keen on the idea of uplifting oneself even in the face of adversity. "Before gaining the respect of others," the man too wise for his few years had spoken to Kakashi and his fellow subordinates, "you must garner respect for yourself." And just like many of the things he had learned from the late, great Yellow Flash, his Hokage, his sensei, Kakashi had bequeathed this tidbit of wisdom onto his students.

"That is an entirely different matter," Kakashi said pointedly, "I, unlike you three gems, was a lost cause."

Sakura raised her brow in a mix of disapproval and skepticism, "The stories I hear about a young Hatake Kakashi say otherwise."

Kakashi couldn't help the bubble of flattery that swelled in his chest at the offense she took to his second-nature self-deprecation. The way her jade eyes had flashed in that dangerous way of theirs; the sudden pout of her lower lip. Kakashi tried to think of any person in his life that caused him to feel in such a way, that pushed him to jump to their offense at the drop of a hat. He justified that he and Sakura were two very different individuals. Because at the end of the day, they had two very different fatal flaws- she felt a little too much, and he felt a little too, well, little.

Still, looking at her now, in every little good thing that she was, Kakashi began to question how true of himself this was; if he had ever been capable of feeling anything but too much for her.

"So how did it start between you two?"

Her voice dragged him from the deep cavities of broken thought and Kakashi threw his attention toward her once more. Obviously distracted, he responded, "What was that?"

Sakura smiled with a roll of her eyes, lowering the television volume, and sat criss-cross-applesauce before him, a pillow hugged tightly to her chest. "Tell me about you and Little Miss Priss."

"Shina?" he inquired, partially ignorant.

She nodded.

With a sigh, Kakashi took the pillow grasped against his chest and replaced behind his head. An amused smile settled onto his features at the oncoming memories.

"I was sixteen when it all started."

Kimiko narrowed her eyes at the alien presence dwelling in the shadows. Drawing her blade, despite any directions Akira had given her, she prepared to advance at any sign of aggression. Her heart pumped voraciously in her chest and a layer of sweat beaded her forehead. Rough breaths escaped her nostrils and for a moment she considers that she may pass out. Visions of bright emerald eyes and feathery pink hair flash through her memories, and Kimiko longed for some sense of home.

Blinking through glossy eyes, she spoke, "Who's there?"

A brush of wind swept through the trees with natural finesse and the presence begins to move in.

The first thing she saw was a forehead protector- a musical note- gleaming in the moonlight.

~A Message for my Lovely Readers~

HI EVERYONE.

First of all, I'll have to say how SORRY I am for having been gone so impossibly long. Between college applications and senior year as a whole, I've been absolutely swamped with work.

Thank you so much for having continued to follow to story.

Thank you for being so patient.

This chapter is quite slow, but I promise there is so much more to come. I just have a few plot points that I need to set up.

I hope to update again within the next month, and with much more exciting stuff!

I LOVE YOU.

Reviews are appreciated.

-V