status ongoing
background the two years between Naruto and Naruto Shippuden
notice I've been wanting to do an all-Anko chapter for a while. She is such a raw character that I don't quite know where to start. Everything seems too much and at the same time not enough. I write Kakashi with my heart, but Anko's psyche is so much more complex, possibly due to the lack of enough canon development. I wrote many different versions of Anko's train of thought, and I still don't feel like this is all it was meant to be. This is still a very premature stage of their relationship, and I wasn't quite sure how much of Anko's deeper thoughts I wanted to reveal. At this point, I like to think that she sees Kakashi purely as a man she possibly wants to get intimate with, but it just comes out as so much more than that. And maybe it is, too. I'll leave it up to you.

xxi. the stillness of deep waters

Anko woke up suffocating. She bolted upright suddenly, clawing for breath.

Like it had a thousand times before, her hand shot up to her left shoulder, feeling the slightly raised skin around the place where her mark had resided for more than a decade. It was tender to the touch, and it hurt when she dug her fingers into it, but she could tell the difference. This was the pain of a healing wound, not of one that was raw and still — always — bleeding.

Anko could feel the sweat clinging to her back and forehead as she eased herself back on her makeshift bed. Judging by the darkness of the room, it was early, way too early for her to be awake. Her ears were buzzing, and the burning in her seal was making her toes and fingertips tingle.

Huh. Her seal. Now that was something she would need time getting used to.

It was hard to believe that it was finally over. The knowledge that the mark was once again suppressed, unable to cause her any more pain, left her as elated as she was confused. It was a strange feeling, to be bereft of a shadow that had been looming over you for so long. Since the original seal had begun fading after the Sandaime's death, the mark had made her feel like part of herself wasn't her own, and maybe that was still the case, as long as the brand was on her skin, but Kakashi's seal made her feel safer, if only by a fraction.

She could only thank whatever greater power was out there that she had managed to get to him on time.

It was a very dangerous situation, the one she had willingly walked into last night. She may have considered Kakashi someone worthy of her friendship for a while now, but this level of exposure, of vulnerability, was an entirely different thing. She wasn't the kind of person who let herself out in the open easily. She liked to make others believe that she did, but in reality she kept her cards very close to her chest.

She had known for a while now that her relationship with Kakashi was not what it had originally set out to be; namely, a forced partnership. Without expecting it, she had grown close to him, had grown to appreciate his company, and even trust him to have her back, while she in turn had his. She had unexpectedly found someone who could not only match her wits, but also rise against her when she was wrong, unconcerned with letting her down easy. There weren't a lot of people who didn't at least act wary towards her, and Anko appreciated his honesty more than anything.

The problem was that this appreciation of his character had gradually begun to blossom into attraction to him as a man. She could tell by the way she had begun noticing things — like the roughness of his voice, or the bulge of his arms, or the faint shape of his lips under the mask. Which was entirely idiotic on its own, because how could she be attracted to someone when she didn't even know what his face looked like?

Anko was no stranger to fraternization among colleagues. After all, shinobi rarely operated in civilian circles, so relationships of any sort were generally confined within the ranks. She had had her own fair share of interactions throughout the years, but she knew better than to get too personal with the people she worked with. After all, the T&I Department's unofficial motto was: we fuck people's minds, but we don't fuck each other.

Which made this thing with Kakashi too damn confusing, because he wasn't a steady partner. This thing between them would only continue for as long as the Godaime saw fit, and then it would dissolve, with each of them going their own way. So, technically, he was as off-limits as he was within them.

Feeling frustrated by even thinking about this situation, she pushed herself up and began pacing around the living room. Movement always eased her mind, however restricted it might was.

It wasn't the first time she had come to Kakashi's place, although she absently thought that so far she had never actually been invited by him. From her previous visit, she remembered that there was hardly anything of interest in the small apartment. Kakashi's place was tidy and clean, and entirely utilitarian. Apart from some shelves filled with books and scrolls that a shinobi could find appealing, there was nothing to catch one's attention.

Without really thinking about it, she ventured towards the end of the small hallway, where she knew Kakashi's bedroom was. The door was ajar, and she had no trouble slipping through it without making any noise.

Kakashi's room was as generic as the rest of him. While it was spacious, its furnishing was scarce. A simple double bed with shuriken patterned sheets, a closet, a small desk under the window and a set of drawers next to it. Her own room didn't have much more than that, but Kakashi's seemed hollow somehow. Almost as if he wasn't actually living there, but just passing through.

She didn't know what to make of that thought.

Quietly, Anko walked to his bed and stared him down. He was sleeping on his side in the middle of the bed, blankets drawn up to his waist and mask ever-present. She wavered for a moment, before carefully depositing her weight on the edge of the mattress. Kakashi didn't flinch, didn't wake, or make any movement that would indicate his awareness of her presence. She was genuinely surprised. He seemed to be sleeping deeply, but she knew that a lifetime as a shinobi cultivated a unique kind of paranoia in you that rarely allowed you to sleep without keeping one eye open.

Maybe he simply didn't consider her a threat. Or maybe he actually was the kind of idiot who would get murdered in his sleep because he slept like a log. So much for being the legendary Copy Ninja.

However, she was kind of grateful for it. Kakashi was always so elusive, it was actually nice to be able to consider him from up close for once. The fact that she was being completely creepy wasn't lost on her, but she pushed it to the back of her mind for now.

She allowed her eyes to perceive him at first. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the taut muscles of his chest and arms that his sleeveless shirt did nothing to hide, his strong jaw and high cheekbones, the scar tracing down his left eyelid and the floppy silver hair that fell messily on his forehead with no hitai-ate to pull it back.

She would be lying if she said that she wasn't tempted to pull his mask down and see for herself what he truly looked like. But that would only betray the trust that Kakashi had placed on her. Plus, she had no doubt that, heavy sleeper or not, the moment her finger would hook beneath the material, his hand would flash to her wrist and then it would all be over.

Knowing that she would later beat herself over it, Anko scooted closer to him, moving so that she was lying on her side as well, with her head supported by her propped arm. The new position allowed her to study him even better. Under the thin material of his mask, she could make out the outline of his lips and nose, the tiny tent it made as he breathed in and out in his sleep.

Anko pondered over it for a moment, before slowly reaching out to his face. She really hoped that he wouldn't wake up now. Her fingertips grazed his chin lightly, waiting for a reaction. When he made no move other than to continue breathing steadily, she cupped his jaw fully, pressing slightly and feeling his light stubble poking at her hand through the mask. The fabric was soft, worn from years of constant use, and she realized for the first time that the barrier between his covered face and the rest of the world wasn't as impenetrable as she originally believed.

Her fingertips lightly traced the vertical scar over his left eye, and she briefly wondered how much it must have hurt when he got it. Or had his grief for the loss of his teammate overshadowed all and any physical pain he was feeling? Deciding not to duel on that, she teased the ridge of his nose, before tenderly running her fingertips over his masked lips, trying to determine their shape.

Her hand dropped quietly from his face and she continued to watch him. What would it feel like to kiss him? What would it feel like to have him laid bare in front of her, stripped of all those layers he so fervently insisted on hiding himself under?

She let her eyes wander to his exposed arms. She remembered commenting on his forearms before, but his biceps were really a work of art. Recalling the muscular abdomen that she had stolen a peek at during their latest mission, Anko almost hummed in appreciation. It was a good body. Not overly muscular, but strong — sturdy. Sculpted by a lifetime of war and strain. Her eyes returned to his face. She wondered what other scars he bore.

There was a voice in the back of her mind that told her that she didn't want to find out. Kakashi was a shitstorm waiting to happen, there were no doubts about that. There were things about him that she could only guess at; pieces of his past that had shaped him into this heavily guarded shell of a man. The mystery surrounding him was as enticing as it was intimidating.

They all had their dark corners. But why did Kakashi's felt so inviting? Why did his darkness seem to call out to hers?

What was it about this man that made her feel so exposed?

All those questions made the headache caused by the mark intensify. Sighing lightly, Anko closed her eyes, curling close to Kakashi's side, careful not to touch him. For some reason, she felt safe, nestled in the bed Kakashi slept every night, with his warm body next to her. His presence seemed to nullify the burning pain in her shoulder, and she inched closer to the Copy Ninja, allowing herself to bask in the warmth radiating off of him.

She would be gone long before he woke up and questioned her presence in his bed. She would leave and then avoid him for as long as possible, until she finally managed to sort out the feelings warring inside her. She would keep her distance until she had a reasonable excuse to seek him out again.

But for now, she would have this moment.