TW: VAGUE DESCRIPTION OF SA
It's only in the first portion of the chapter, and nothing too horrible or graphic happens, but nonetheless please take care of yourself and stay safe! Love you guys!
Sakura Haruno sat at the foot of her bed, cross-legged on her wooden floor. Much to her relief, neither of her parents were home for her to make excuses to. Her mother would have certainly believed that she'd spent the night at Ino or Tenten's house, but why she was clad in oversized men's clothing would have been a lot harder to explain away.
Sakura didn't know why, but she really didn't want her family to know what had happened… or what had almost happened. She wanted to fully comprehend what had gone down the night prior before she could even begin to think about telling her mom and dad the truth.
She was in such a hurry to figure it out that she hadn't even changed out of Kakashi's clothes when she had asked Shizune to sit behind her on the bed. She needed to know what happened, and she needed to know now.
"Are you sure about this?" Shizune asked, "I've never done anything like this before."
"It's worth a shot," Sakura said, staring at her reflection in the standing mirror at the end of her room. Though she looked bedraggled and a little worse for wear, there was an unmistakable hardness in her expression. She wasn't going to give up,
Shizune placed her gentle hands on either side of Sakura's head, fingertips softly grazing her temples. The older woman sucked in a sharp, panicked breath before suddenly pulling away.
"I don't know," she said. "It might not be safe. The brain is too tricky."
"Please." Sakura locked eyes with her in the reflection, unable to keep the desperation from her voice. "Shizune-san… I have to know."
They stared at one another for several tense moments, and she could tell Shizune was hovering in between the possibilities. She held her eyes, pink eyebrows turned up in a desperate plea.
"Okay…" She settled her hands on either side of Sakura's head once again.
"Like treating a migraine," Sakura reminded her, "but more toward the center, and lower. Try to feel for the limbic system."
Part of her wanted to laugh at what they were doing, It was all theoretical. Some medic-nin would even call it madness... She had never heard of anyone managing to retrieve lost memories.
Shizune's healing chakra came then, soft and cool. The waves of energy whispered against her skin and trickled into her ears. Goosebumps rose along her arms. The reaction was immediate: the remnants of pain that had lingered from that morning's migraine were banished away.
"It's a mess in here," Shizune murmured.
"Thanks," she remarked dryly.
"I didn't mean it like that."
Sakura could feel her mentor's chakra probing inwards. It was the strangest sensation, tingling and feather-light… most surprisingly, it was not unpleasant.
"Try to find the amygdala, it should be right below the thalamus."
Shizune didn't need reminding, evident by her focused silence. They sat in the heavy, quiet atmosphere for several moments, both of their eyes closed in concentration.
"Alright, please tell me right away if this hurts–"
Her memories returned to her with a white-hot light followed by flickering images, like a book fluttering open. She stiffened as it all came flooding back:
"Wh-where... go?" Sakura mumbled from numb lips. She was trying to say "where are we going?" but the connection between her tongue and brain had been inexplicably severed. She was being held by hard, wiry arms. Her feet weren't working right.
"To clean you up!" a silky voice came from above her. Who was that, again?
He pushed open a door, and the cold autumn air hit her skin with an unwelcome bite.
"Out...side?" she asked.
"So many questions!" the voice said. Sakura looked blearily up, peering through the curtain of pink hair that fell into her eyes. He was a handsome, sandy-haired ninja. He looked familiar. She knew this man. How did she know him?
His name came to her suddenly.
"Ryuu," she slurred, foggy mind working overtime to put two and two together.
"Yes, beautiful?" he asked, a grin on his lips. Sakura felt her face heat. The way he was looking at her made her feel strange.
He was leading them down the side of the building, their shoes crunching into the gravel. She struggled to keep her feet below her.
"I'm… you think... beautiful?"
"What's with the tone of surprise?" he asked, spinning her suddenly until her back was pressed into the cool concrete of the club's wall. It was too rough a move, and the wind was knocked out of her as she wa`s forced back like a ragdoll. "You're sexy as hell, Sakura."
Her head was spinning as she stared up at Ryuu, and she struggled to focus her vision on his face. Why did she feel like this? And why was he being so forceful with her?
"Think—m'sick," she mumbled, a hand reaching up to rub at her eye. "I should... need– sleep."
"Not yet," he whispered, tilting her chin up with his index finger. He was so close to her that she could feel his breath puffing against her lips. Something squirmed inside of her.
This was too much. He was too close.
"Wwwait—" she began, her lips moving far too slowly to properly reject his advances.
Then his hands were in her hair. On her face. Tracing her collar bones until they slid down to–
"Wait!" she gasped again, trying to wrench away from his unwanted touch, but she was stuck between him and the wall. With a sinking feeling in her roiling stomach, her jumbled mind realized that she was trapped.
"Shhhh," he hushed her before stooping down to press his lips against the hot skin of her neck. "Just enjoy this, baby."
Even in her foggy state of confusion, Sakura knew this wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want Ryuu to be her first kiss. Her first anything! She didn't want it to be like this. Something akin to anger spiked in her chest, and she attempted to shove him away with fumbling hands.
The Suna-nin didn't budge. If anything, he seemed only to be further enticed by her refusal. He pressed her harder into the wall, offending hands reaching around to squeeze at her backside. She writhed clumsily beneath his touch, panic rising like bile in her throat. Or maybe that was just vomit.
This wasn't happening. It had to be a dream. A nightmare.
"P-please," she whimpered. She didn't know what to say. What to do.
His face rose from its place by her neck. Short, ragged breaths puffed against her lips, and lust clouded his gaze. His eyes flicked to her lips, and she saw him lean down at a snail's pace, as if in slow motion.
No!
She brought her hand up to cover his mouth and shove him away. He only laughed against her palm. She was too weak to do anything. She tried to summon her chakra, but it failed to answer her call.
Why? Why was this happening?
He pulled her hand away slowly, his cruel smile revealed in the yellow light of the lantern above as her fingers slid off his lips. A chill ran through her. That was the look of a man who knew he was about to get what he wanted... And she was helpless to stop him.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to turn her face away, unable to watch as he stole her first kiss.
But he was gone. In half a second, his pressing weight had been lifted, and now all she felt was the cold air against the front of her body. Without his weight supporting her, she crumbled to her knees, fingers curling into the gravel. A strange, white light flickered behind her closed eyelids, accompanied by a high-pitched crackling sound. She opened her eyes, completely unprepared for the sight that greeted her.
What was he doing here?
The scene before her registered slowly: her teacher, one hand wrapped around Ryuu's throat, the other holding a crackling ball of lightning. Even through her drunken haze, she knew her sensei's characteristic Jutsu: Chidori. He was poised, ready to strike; the blue glow from the lightning cast stark shadows on Kakashi's rage-filled, masked visage. The Suna-nin kicked uselessly in the open air, nothing coming from his mouth but garbled, labored breaths.
"No!" Sakura gasped through numb lips, peering desperately up from her spot on the ground.
Through the chaos and confusion, through the thick veil wrapped around her brain, a clear thought rang high above the clamor: Kakashi was going to kill him.
"Don't," she choked out, unable to say more. Her tongue had turned traitorous, unwilling to form the words she so desperately wanted to.
"Sakura?" Shizune's voice broke through her trance-like state. She blinked rapidly, suddenly remembering where she was. An odd mix of fear and relief swirled around her chest as she stared at her surprised reflection in the standing mirror across from her. She was in her room. It was only a memory. Shizune had pulled her hands back, ceasing the flow of her healing chakra. Her mentor's pretty face was taut with worry. "...What's wrong?"
"I'm alright," Sakura choked out.
"Did it work?" Shizune asked. The pink-haired kunoichi nodded mutely. "What did you see?"
She thought of all she had remembered: Ryuu had certainly violated her, but it hadn't gone beyond a few neck kisses and groping hands. And even though she had her answer of just how far he had gone with her, her curiosity of the night's events had yet to be satiated. In fact, the memory dropping off at such a cliffhanger only piqued her interest.
She shook her head, looking at Shizune through the reflection. "We need to go again."
"I don't know," she said, pursing her lips in fear. "I think I've already done too much."
"You're not hurting me," Sakura reassured desperately, turning around to gaze directly into Shizune's black eyes. "Please? I need to know the rest. I only saw the first part of the night. I can't live with this question inside of me."
After a few moments, the older woman sighed in reluctance. "Alright."
"Thank you," Sakura breathed before turning back around. She watched as Shizune slowly brought her hands back up to either side of her face. She closed her eyes and–
The ground was spinning beneath her, as if the earth had been inexplicably placed on top of a violent carousel. Kakashi was only six feet away, holding his Chidori. The air was pure static around them, raising the hair on her head into a halo above her crown.
"Don't!" she slurred, struggling to her feet. "Kaka… Kakashi!"
Sakura was only upright for a millisecond before tumbling back down to the ground. She bit the dust. Hard. She groaned in pain, holding childishly to her leg. She glanced down to see the bare skin of her kneecap shining with scarlet liquid.
She hadn't fallen like this since she was a child. Before she was a genin. Why was she feeling so sick and weak?
It was then that Kakashi Hatake turned his focus to her, red and black eyes wide. It all happened so fast: in the blink of an eye, he had lost his grip on the Ryuu. The Suna-nin saw his chance to escape, and he used the momentary distraction to kick sharply at Kakashi. With his foot firmly planted on her sensei's chest, he was able to use it as a jumping-off point. Sakura watched as he flew backward in a graceful arch. The Chidori fizzled out, and the air immediately cooled a few degrees.
Ryuu landed lightly in the gravel a few paces back, clutching the front of his neck in pain as he panted laboriously. "What- what the fuck!? Who… who the hell do you think you are?"
"Don't touch her again," Kakashi growled, voice jet-black with murderous rage. "She's not in her right mind to agree to whatever you're trying to do."
"This is about her?!" Ryuu tossed a hand out in her direction, and she did her best to swallow down a bout of nausea. He looked at her as though she was little more than gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. It struck her as odd—had he not just been praising her? Calling her beautiful? Sexy, even? She thought of how this man had just been touching her, as though she was the most alluring creature on the face of the planet. "Really? Her?! Some izakaya slut?"
Kakashi was in front of Ryuu in an instant, flickering forward with the sort of speed she only saw on the battlefield. The back of his gloved hand slammed violently against the Suna-nin's cheek. Sakura watched in confused silence as Ryuu disappeared, only to reappear in an explosion of dust and rock as his body smashed into the concrete wall across the way.
She gaped in shock. Was her vision really moving so sluggishly that she hadn't tracked his trajectory? Or had her sensei really just knocked the shit out of him with the ferocity of a thousand suns?
"Oops," he sighed, rolling his shoulder with a grimace, as though he had simply over-extended it during a routine workout, "that was probably a bit too hard."
"S-sensei!" she whimpered, looking at Ryuu's twisted form as the dust settled around him. His arm had been completely crushed, buried in the cracked facade of the building. His head hung limply forward.
"Let's get out of here," Kakashi said lightly, barely even tossing the unconscious ninja a glance. "They'll be here to pick up the trash soon."
He strolled casually over to her, tugging his hitai-ate back down over his scarred eye. He offered down his gloved hand, and it swayed in her foggy vision. Even just attempting to place her fingers in his was a challenge. On the second miss—her hand swiping through the cold empty air— she hung her head in frustration. "I... can't. Sss-somethin's wrong..."
"I had a hunch," he said, stooping down until he was eye-level with her. "How do you feel?"
Her head lolled to the side, and she peaked at him through her pink strands, "Dizzy."
"How much did you drink?" he questioned, and shame tugged at the edges of her consciousness. She wanted to cry. This was all her fault. She went too far. Drank too much. Put her trust in the wrong man.
"I dunno…" Her face crumpled, embarrassed tears burning behind her eyes. "I-I'm sorry, Sensei."
"Hey, hey, hey," he soothed, his large, warm hand landing gently atop her head, "don't cry. I have a sneaking suspicion that none of this is your doing."
Her brain couldn't make sense of his words, and she looked up at him through her warbled tears. Her sensei. Her teacher. Her mentor and friend. His single visible eye was crinkled shut in that characteristic disarming smile.
Even through her confusion and the foggy edges of her consciousness, she thought of all the times he had come to her rescue. How many times had he comforted her as she cried, a gentle hand on her head, uttering soft words of reassurance— just like this?
Something squeezed at her heart. The feeling was indescribable and confusing. She wondered if he felt it too, or if it was just all in her head, fueled on by whatever drunk discombobulation had swept through her.
"I don't feel… right," she breathed, teeth beginning to chatter. "…c-cold,"
"Can you walk?"
She shook her head, eyeing the scarlet liquid still dripping from her exposed, dirty knee. The last time she had tried had been unsuccessful. Though it had stopped her sensei from plowing an electrified fist right through Ryuu's heart. Maybe in that way, it was successful after all.
"Guess we're going to do this old-school," he said and maneuvered himself until he had an arm looped beneath her knees and his other limb supporting her back. If she would have been more inside of herself, she likely would have been mortified at him picking her up as though she was nothing more than a child. But as she settled into his strong, warm arms, a semblance of calm settled over her.
She thought of the way Ryuu had held her, fingers tight and painful, like a python coiling around prey. In a stark juxtaposition Kakashi cradled her, comfortable and strong, yet oddly soft. She leaned her lolling head against his broad chest, and she was surrounded by his scent. Clean and warm.
She was safe.
He began their journey out of the alleyway, choosing to walk along the ground rather than hop from rooftop to rooftop. Sakura was thankful. She didn't think her roiling stomach could handle such a jarring movement.
"I'm… n-neverr drinking… again," she gasped out, closing her eyes as a wave of nausea coursed through her. Her sensei chuckled below her, the rumblings of his chest bouncing her head slightly. Despite everything, a mirthless smile tugged at her lips.
"Oh, kid," he mused, "one lesson in a long line of truths you'll have to learn."
The smile dropped away at that. Even though her tongue was heavy, and her head was woozy, and so much had happened she probably should just take a nap, she still felt the need to say: "M'not a kid."
It was not the first time she had said it that night. He was quiet at the statement, walking slowly along the empty Konoha street. Her eyes drifted shut in the wake of his silence. For the second time in the span of an hour, he responded: "I know."
"You… you said I'm," she whispered through clumsy lips, recalling that day on the training grounds, "beautiful."
He didn't respond. Instead, he carried her wordlessly until they met the cross-streets to her address. He turned left, down the narrow road that led to her parent's house.
"Wait—" she said, writhing in his grasp. "Don't."
"Don't what?" he asked, stopping in his tracks. She was kicking sluggishly, trying in vain to get down. She could see the looming shadow of her house in her peripherals. The front door glared at her mockingly. There was no way. They would kill her if they saw the state of her now.
"Can't go home," she slurred, thinking of their reactions; her father's disapproving gaze, her mother's face flaming red-hot in a fit of anger. "M-my … folks. Never– been like this."
"This is your first time getting drunk and they'll get you into trouble?" he guessed.
She nodded.
He sighed, turning his face up to the heavens, as if to ask the stars for advice. Guilt squirmed in her stomach. Once again she was his burden, just as always.
No. This was wrong. She couldn't ask him to take her in for the night. A terrible wave of sickness washed over her then. She couldn't tell if it was guilt or something else.
"Never... never mind," she mumbled, trying once again to pull out of his grasp with more urgency, "S'okay… I'll go home."
"Wait–" he said, but still let her lower half down as she kicked against his hold. Her feet landed clumsily in the dirt, and she tried to orient herself on trembling legs. "You don't have to."
Sakura took a shaky step forward, away from him. Without warning, her mouth flooded with invading, hot liquid. Oh no! She was going to–
She crumbled to the ground, retching as the contents of her stomach spilled out of her and onto the dirt below. She felt her pink hair lift away from around her face. The heaving gags tore through her, tightening her core almost to the point of pain.
And all the while, in the back of her head, alarm bells were sounding: something was wrong. She shouldn't be this ill after a few drinks.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed as the wave of sickness left her. She cried into the dirt, still hunched pathetically over. She felt like a kid. Tears dripped from her eyes and left little black dots on the gravel below. She was so, so stupid. "I'm sorry, sensei."
Something warm and solid settled over her shoulders. She sat up, wiping at her mouth and blinking blearily down at the garment covering her torso. Kakashi's flak jacket. Tears continued to spill down her cheeks.
This was so embarrassing. Her sensei was seeing the worst of her, but instead of running, he was by her side, trying to keep her warm and holding her hair away from her face.
"Don't be sorry," he said, "something is clearly wrong. I think that man spiked your drink."
"Spiked?" she asked, frowning up at him.
"Poisoned."
Poisoned?!
The word rattled around in her brain, and she blinked in confusion for several moments before dissolving into tears once again. Ryuu had poisoned her? Why? Why would he do such a senseless, invasive thing?
"I'm not going to take you home," her sensei announced, placing a soft hand on her shoulder, "you can stay at my place until you feel better."
His words struck at something inside of her, and she straightened up in a stiff realization: should she stay the night at Kakashi Hatake's house? It felt wrong. Like the question was some sort of hypothetical riddle rather than an actual possibility. Maybe she should just find a park bench to curl up on.
"Sakura?" he asked after a few moments when she failed to respond.
Despite the unfortunate, embarrassing circumstances, she took note that her head really did feel a little more still. More clear. She must have expelled a bit of the poison while she had been sick.
"Kaka-sensei," she began, looking down at the mess she had made on the street below. Mortification flooded through her, and she wished she had the strength to just run away. "I– I feel a little better."
"That's good," he said, still holding onto her hair. "Come on, let's get you some water."
The idea of staying the night at her sensei's house was mortifying, but she knew that it was a better option than braving her parent's house. If they woke up before she settled into bed… If they witnessed her in the throws of whatever this sickness was? She would be in trouble for the rest of her life.
She groaned inwardly. Maybe she was still a kid, after all.
"I think– I can maybe stand," she whispered and sat up onto her haunches, his hand left her hair and provided a stable, supporting hold beneath the crook of her elbow.
"There we are," he said as she slowly pushed herself into a standing position.
"I don't want to be a burden to you, sensei," she murmured, looking at her shoes, "I can just go home."
"You're not a burden to me, Sakura," he said, "Don't you remember? You're my favorite student."
She looked blearily up at him, scrutinizing his single black eye. She thought of Naruto, with his endless pools of chakra and indestructible determination. She thought of Sasuke, a genius child prodigy. Sure he had been lost to the shadows for now, but she recalled how for a time in their childhood he had become their teacher's project. She thought of how Kaka-sensei had taken him under his wing, teaching him Chidori and how to fully utilize the Sharingan. How the two of them would disappear for days at a time.
She remembered how they had appeared in the flurry of leaves during the Chunin exams, just moments before his fight with Gaara would have been cancelled. She couldn't help but remember just how they looked back then: so cool, standing back to back, nonchalant yet poised for a fight. A teacher and his protege.
And what about her? A pink-haired little brat, always lagging behind her teammates. Always needing a last-minute rescue and a shoulder to cry on. She wasn't skilled like Sasuke. She wasn't strong like Naruto. She wasn't even pretty like Ino. She had to be dolled up and wrapped in a skin-tight dress for any man to even look her way.
There was no way she was actually his favorite student.
"Come on," he said, steering her away from the direction of her parents house, "I'll help you walk."
The memory dissolved once again as Shizune pulled her hands away and ceased the flow of chakra.
"Anything?" she asked, voice quiet. Sakura blinked at her reflection, annoyed at how she had been so rudely plucked out of the scene. She wanted to know what happened, even if Ryuu was no longer in the picture.
"Yes," she said, sighing before raking her fingers through her pink hair in frustration, "it's like Kakashi said."
"Ryuu? He actually–" Shizune gasped, the heavy silence thick with the unspoken question.
"He was touching me," she whispered. Her face was aflame as she spoke the horrible truth into the air. "He was going to kiss me, too. I was trying to push him off of me when Kakashi came. He stepped in before things got serious."
Shizune released a relieved, shaky sigh. "Oh, thank goodness."
Sakura was about to ask her to resume the healing process, but the older woman was already rising from Sakura's bed and stretching her arms above her head. Her mouth clamped shut.
"Well, Tsunade-sama will be expecting me back. I've already been gone too long," she remarked, crossing the room and peering out the window, as if attempting to gauge the time of day by the position of the sun in the sky. "This whole thing is going to be a diplomatic nightmare. I don't want to even begin to think of all the paperwork I'm going to have to do."
The young kunoichi couldn't even muster up a polite smile as her mentor said goodbye. She was too disappointed. She wanted to beg her to stay and continue helping without having to explain why. She could never in a million years admit that she'd been having strange, romantic feelings for her sensei, and she wanted to know if anything further had happened during her drunken night in his apartment.
Sakura was almost one-hundred percent sure that nothing had gone on between them. It was very likely that she had gone home with him and crashed right away. Yet, something in the back of her head whispered: but what if?
If anything, she wanted to see if there was a hint that he had been feeling any semblance of tension too, or if it had all been in her head.
...But Shizune had already left, and Sakura resigned herself to throwing Kakashi's clothes in the washer and taking a shower. With moist hair and a towel wrapped around her, Sakura brushed her teeth. She stared at her reflection in the foggy mirror, mind spinning with the events of the previous night.
Her first time trying to go out and let loose and she ends up being drugged and inadvertently stirring up an inter-village crisis!? She groaned in frustration before bending down and spitting into the sink. This whole thing was so mortifying. She could never show her face in Tsunade's office ever again.
All of this for what? To get a date for Hinata's coming-of-age festival? She was so stupid.
After Sakura was back in her own clothes and sitting in front of her vanity, pulling a brush through her short pink hair, she stared dimly into the mirror. Though it was the same face she had known her entire life, something about her reflection felt off.
She was unhappy. Unsatisfied. She needed to know how the night ended.
Sakura placed the brush down, heaving a deep sigh. She knew it was tricky. Dangerous, even. There were many risks to healing one's own injuries, let alone one's own brain. There was a reason Shizune had been so nervous. One wrong move– one cell misaligned. Boom. Brain damage.
Despite the fear and reservations screaming at her from the back of her head, Sakura stared hard at her palms. She was abnormally skilled with medical ninjutsu. Even Tsunade-sama said so.
Her fingers closed into a determined fist, and she dragged her emerald gaze up to meet her own eyes in the mirror. If Shizune wouldn't help her, she would do it herself.
She could do this. She was capable.
She swallowed hard, raising her hands up on either side of her face, as if trying to cover her ears from an offending noise. She squeezed her eyes shut, summoning her healing chakra until–
–"This is your place?" Sakura asked, stumbling into the entrance of the clean, minimal space. Though she felt better after she had expelled a bit of the contents in her stomach, she was still feeling quite woozy and slow.
"Shocking, I know," Kakashi rolled off, entering behind her and shutting the door softly. He worked off his shoes. "I don't just exist in a liminal, white space between missions."
Sakura's face twisted up at the funny sentiment, "I never thought that, Kaka-sensei."
"Yeah, yeah," the copy-nin said, waving his hand in the air. "I know what it was like to be a student."
She tried to imagine her sensei as a child. A boy, with wide eyes and optimism in his soul. She couldn't even begin to picture it.
Sakura used the wall to steady herself and she treaded forward, the rest of his apartment coming into view. The living room was basic, but spacey, with a connected open kitchen just to their left. It was nice. Simple.
...Stale.
Exactly how she would have imagined her mild-mannered teacher's home.
"Let me get you some water."
Sakura watched as he crossed the space to grab a glass from the floating cabinets against the wall and fill it with water from the tap on the island counter. As the cup in his hand filled, Sakura found herself eyeing the single black, leather couch against the wall beside her. The idea of giving her aching feet a break was incredibly alluring. It would be fine to sit down, right? After all, he had invited her in!
So she sat. After a few moments passed, she turned her attention back to her sensei as he dug around in his cabinet for something. It was strange to see him in such a normal, domestic situation. She was still wearing his flak jacket, so he seemed even more demure than usual in his plain navy blue shirt and pants. It was odd. Like witnessing a dog walk on his hind legs.
Kakashi Hatake seemed most at ease when on the battlefield, a kunai in his hand and his sharingan spinning rapidly as he engaged in combat. This on the other hand was… abnormal.
He pulled a vial of little blue pills off of the shelf, and turned to walk both the medicine and glass of water over to her. She sat up, holding out her hand as he placed the drink in her waiting fingers. She took several deep gulps of water, relief flooding through her as the liquid entered her severely dehydrated system.
"How's your head?" he asked as she pulled the now-empty glass away from her mouth. "Think medicine will help?"
She took note of her current state. She was still a little nauseated and light-headed, but she wasn't in any pain. She felt warm and translucent. Like she was made of summer air.
"No," she responded earnestly, "I don't think they'll do anything."
"You're not feeling sick?" He sounded skeptical.
She scrunched her nose up. Why didn't he believe her? She was a doctor, after all.
"No. I feel good."
"Good?"
"Like a cloud!"
Kakashi scratched the back of his head. "Even though you just threw up on the side of the street?"
She winced at his statement, but at the reminder, she noticed the acidic taste lingering on her teeth and the back of her tongue. She smacked her lips in displeasure.
"Ew," she said aloud, "you're right."
He smiled above her with his single black eye, jamming his hands into his pockets. "Would you like to brush your teeth?"
Sakura frowned, confused. "Not with your toothbrush, sensei."
"I have an extra."
"Oh." Embarrassing. "Sure."
She watched as he turned on his heel and left the living room. She hoisted herself up on unsteady feet, but followed her sensei dutifully. When she peered into the doorway of the bathroom, she found him rummaging around in the cabinet below the sink. He found what he was looking for: a bulk pack of toothbrushes. She watched as he jammed his thumb into the cardboard and freed an orange one from the pack.
He passed it to her, a mild smile on his face. Even though she couldn't see his mouth, she always knew when he was smiling. His body language spoke volumes.
"It looks like Naruto," she mused, plucking it from his grasp. "Got any pink ones?"
"Beggars can't be choosers, Sakura."
She gave him a look, but resigned herself to sticking the brush beneath the tap before flicking the faucet on. He left her to it, leaving the tube of toothpaste visible on the lip of the sink as he exited the space. As she squeezed a bit of the blue goop onto the bristles, it occurred to her how strange this was: she had known Kakashi Hatake for years, but had never learned where he had lived, let alone even dreamed of spending the night at his place.
Brushing her teeth in the same spot that he did felt oddly invasive, like she was arriving uninvited into a space of worship. He was such a private man.
His home was as good as sacred.
As she stared at her reflection, hair a mess, mascara and lipstick smudged, she should have felt ugly. But oddly she didn't.
Something inside of her was awake and electrified. This was exciting. As she wiped her mouth on the hand-towel hanging on the wall beside her after she spit– ensuring to rid her lips of any leftover pigment as well– Sakura realized distantly that it was because she felt special.
She highly doubted that Sasuke or Naruto ever got to spend the night in their sensei's home… yet she was going to be awarded that privilege.
"Where should I put it when I'm done!?" Sakura called, holding the toothbrush in her hand. She eyed the little white bin beside the toilet. Should she toss it?
"Just leave it. You'll need it in the morning."
It was a truthful, simple sentence. She would be spending the night, and that should have been a basic sentiment to wrap her head around. It was innocent. Purely platonic. A teacher lending a couch to his student.
Yet, despite her inner reassurances, her heart fluttered inside of her chest. For the millionth time since their conversation in the training yard, she pondered her sudden, giddy feelings.
She made her way back out into the larger space to find him exiting a room off to the side with a pile of clothes folded in his hands. He extended it out to her with a smile.
"You can take my bed," he said, "I'll sleep on the couch."
Her face warmed. Sleep in her sensei's bed? In his clothes? No way. Even if he wasn't going to sleep next to her, that was still way more intimate than she was prepared for.
"No," she said, shaking her head, "that's too much."
"Come on, Sakura," he said, pushing the clothes into her hands. "What's the big deal? I'm offering."
Her emerald eyes flicked from the garments and up to his single black eye. She prayed that he didn't notice the blush spreading across her cheeks. Why did this feel so personal? They had slept even closer on missions. Though she supposed having their sleeping bags near one another while they slumbered beneath the stars alongside their teammates was different. Formal, almost. They had been working.
But now they weren't on a mission. This was a personal matter. As friends.
After she took the shirt and pants gratefully, Sakura breezed past him and into his room. She closed the door behind her, eyes eagerly taking in her surroundings. His room was much like the rest of his apartment: simple. Clean. Utilitarian. No decorations. No personal touches. A telltale sign of a man with a busy career.
She peeled off the red halter dress and let it pool at her feet, heart beating violently as her bare skin was exposed scandalously in the air of her sensei's room. Why did she feel like she was stripping down in front of him? He wasn't even in the room with her. She was being ridiculous.
She unzipped her white boots and fumbled clumsily to pull them off. While it was true that she felt much better than she had with Ryuu, she was still quite unstable and fuzzy in the head. She pulled the shirt on next, and was immediately washed in a wave of his scent. Her brain was cloudy as she pulled up the collar to take a deep, intoxicating whiff. She all but swooned. It was clean. It was warm. It was Kakashi.
At the realization of what she had just been doing, she straightened up and dropped the collar, an alarm bell ringing in the back of her head.
Was this a genuine, true attraction? Did she actually like her sensei in the same way she liked Sasuke? Or was this little more than a misguided crush resulting after years of being alone?
As she held the matching, soft trousers in her hands, something occurred to her.
Something sinister.
Something downright dangerous.
Sakura folded the pants once again, crossing to the dresser along the opposite wall, pulling open the drawer and placing the garment back in. She wasn't going to wear anything below the belt– besides her underwear of course.
She made her way back to the bedroom door, gripping the knob in her knuckles before taking a nervous breath. She never would have done this had she been sober, but something inside of her had lit up. Her nerve-endings were alive, craving something. She tried to act as casual as she could when she stepped from her sensei's room and into the living space. She found him on the couch, leaning back casually as he watched the short, boxy television on a stand along the opposite wall. On the screen a man held a woman delicately in his arms, tilting her back to whisper sweet-nothings in her ear.
"What's this?" she laughed, an entertained grin taking over her face. "Soap operas, sensei?"
"Icha Icha Innocence the mov–" he began, but the words fell from his mouth the moment he scraped his single black eye over to her. She suspected he was shocked to find her without pants... but it wasn't like he could see her underwear or anything! And it was only a little shorter than her previous halter dress. It was probably just a surprise, though a part of her hoped that it excited him.
His wordless, dumbstruck reaction did cause her heart to skip a beat. Did he think she looked cute? Did he like the way her legs looked poking out from beneath his oversized, long-sleeved shirt?
She had never had the chance to explore her own sexuality after Sasuke had abandoned Konoha, and the opportunity never arose with anyone else… that was until now. Sakura knew deep down it was foolish to try and explore it with her long-time teacher, but the usual voice of shame and reason had been banished from her brain.
"Can I sit down?" she asked, pointing to the spot next to him on the black leather sofa.
He blinked in surprise, as if forgetting she was actually there and not just a figment of his imagination.
"Of course," he said nonchalantly, scooting over. She settled in beside him, giving them a wide berth of space. She didn't want to push it too hard too fast. There was a logical part of her that still wanted to test the waters. Several moments passed, and she gazed placidly at the television screen. The dialogue was garbage, and the acting was even worse, but she kept that opinion to herself.
After a few wordless, awkward moments Kakashi spoke up once again, "were the pants too big?"
She buried down the spike of self consciousness that plagued her at his words, feigning an air of casualty. "No, I just don't wear pants when I sleep."
He stared hard at the screen in front of them. She watched him, looking for any signs of interest or… arousal, was it? That was difficult, as she had never really seen a man actually aroused in real life. Besides the random, creepy old men who would ask for prostate exams every other week at the hospital, but they didn't count.
Kakashi was young. And handsome.
The revelation came as a surprise. She had never thought of him as particularly young since she had always compared his age to hers, though in the grand scheme of things she figured he was actually quite young by society's standards.
"I see," he said, shifting in his seat.
"Thank you for tonight," she blurted, tucking her feet beneath her and turning her body until she was facing him. He didn't look at her, eyes trained on the television. "For saving me… I mean."
"You're welcome," he said, still not turning his attention to her. "It's the least I can do."
She wanted to pout at his disinterest, but instead she pressed on: "You know… that word that Ryuu called me?"
That made Kakashi blink. They both knew what word she was implying.
She bit her lip. "Well, it wasn't true."
Kakashi couldn't help but laugh humorlessly. "I know, Sakura."
"I haven't even kissed anyone."
That made him pause. He turned his gaze to her. Her heart sang as his single eye fell on her. Finally!
"You should go to bed," he said, dousing her hopes immediately. Her heart dropped into her stomach.
"Why?" she asked, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. "I'm not tired."
"Because you're drunk, and you're going to feel sick very soon." It was an excuse and he knew it. He didn't want to take the bait: talking about this sensitive topic while she was in such a precarious mental state.
Annoyance coursed through her as he muted the television with the remote and stood from his spot. Why wasn't he being any fun? Had he always been such a wet blanket?
"Come on," he said, offering out his hand to her. She stuck out her bottom lip, peering up at him through mascara-coated lashes.
"I don't want to sleep," she whined. "Please, sensei?"
"No." His voice was hard. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance, but let him pull her up and onto her feet. "Time for bed."
"This is stupid." she grumbled as he guided her from the living room and down the short corridor to his bedroom. "You're no fun."
"I don't have to be fun," he rolled off as he pushed open his bedroom door. "That's not my job."
She turned around, breaking free from his grasp. She stared up at him with wide eyes, they were only inches apart. "Are… are you mad at me?"
He blinked at that. "Why would I be mad at you?"
"You're acting weird."
"No, I'm not."
"You are," she insisted, head spinning, "ever since that day on the training ground… you've been weird."
"What are you talking about?"
"You called me beautiful," she mumbled, averting her gaze. "But you haven't said it since... Was that even true?"
He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. He acted as if this whole thing was nothing more than a troublesome headache. "Of course it was, Sakura."
"Then why are you pushing me away?" she asked, tempted to stomp her bare foot against the ground.
"I have no idea what you mean!"
"I've never done anything with anybody," she began, voice going quiet. She stared hard at the wood floor. "Tonight I almost lost my first kiss twice. Kiba and then Ryuu. It could have been much worse with Ryuu."
He was quiet at that.
"I always thought Sasuke would be my first," she continued on, a slight slur to her words. She tried to keep her tone even, but she couldn't stop the emotion from seeping into her voice. "But he's gone. And I thought maybe someone else would like me eventually, but no one ever has…"
She looked up at him, heart fluttering in her chest. "But when you said what you said… I just felt like maybe I wasn't hopeless."
She stared hard at his masked visage, heart hammering inside of her chest. She looked for any signs that he, too, was feeling something. But with that damned mask in the way she couldn't sense anything!
"Well?" she asked, pouting. She stepped forward, a hand gravitating up toward his face. "Aren't you going to say anything?"
"S-sakura, what are you–" he gasped, backing away. She continued her wobbly trek forward until he was pressed against the wall. By the look of him, you would never be able to tell that he was the most powerful ninja in the entire leaf village. He looked like a scared little boy, being cornered by a common school-yard bully. Though there was something in his expression, like he was waiting for something… and was he trembling?
A single, slim finger traveled up his face until it hooked delicately, hesitantly under the black material that forever lined his nose. In the back of her head, she wondered if this was wrong, but another, stronger voice reminded her that he would have stopped her if he didn't want her to continue. She knew he could have… but for some reason, he let her pull the mask down. Did he want her to continue her advances? He was a grown man. And he was sober. He knew exactly what was going on.
"Sakura, wait–" he began, but didn't make a move to halt her progress as she dragged it downwards. She licked her lips in anticipation. Was this really happening?
Sakura watched with bated breath as her finger pulled the mask down past his nose. His porcelain skin was revealed slowly, like a puzzle gradually being put together after years of it lying forgotten, a scattered mess on her coffee table. Her emerald eyes fixed on his face in fascination. Finally, she would at long last see her sensei without his mask. As she brought the material down past his chin, her eyes locked on his lips before flitting greedily around the expanse of his face. This felt wrong, yet simultaneously intoxicating. If Naruto and Sasuke knew that she was finally seeing the prized gem of their teacher's face, they would be punching the air.
Warmth spread across her entire body as she fully realized the face staring down at hers was her sensei's. Kakashi's. Had he been hiding such a handsome face from her for years? For what? She took note of the beauty mark landing just below his lips on the left side of his face. It blessed his chin, and she couldn't believe she was just now realizing that he didn't have buck teeth, or a crooked jaw, or a giant nose. Only a cute little spot.
"Why?" was all that came to her.
"Why what?" he breathed, his breath wafting down to hit the expanse of her mouth. She watched in fascination as his lips curled around the words, matching the voice that had been muffled by the black material since she had known him. This was surreal.
"Why do you hide?" she pondered, a pale hand floating up to touch his bare cheek. Her heart squeezed as the pad of her thumb traced his skin delicately. "You're so beautiful."
"You're drunk," he said, but still didn't make a move to escape.
"Maybe," she breathed, eyes flicking down to his lips. They weren't too thin or too thick, like her teammates had speculated. They were perfect. He didn't even have any semblance of stubble, which surprised her. Why did he groom himself so diligently if he hid himself from the entire world?
Sakura had to stand up on her tiptoes in order to bring her lips softly, nervously to Kakashi's. Her kiss was a question. A whisper. Barely a graze of her slightly parted lips.
She expected him to push her away, to jerk his head back before snapping at her that this was wrong! All wrong! They were student and teacher! Of course they shouldn't cross this threshold! There were lines that should never ever be breached.
Imagine her surprise when Kakashi Hatake, the famous Copy Ninja, the son of the White Fang, the Hero of the Sharingan, and her sensei of seven years... met her question with an answer: he settled his lips fully onto hers. They were soft and warm and god– the heat that had been pooling in her stomach dripped downwards. Her eyes fluttered closed.
All along, she had been agonizing over his words and the strange, lingering looks she caught him giving her. She had been right! She hadn't been crazy!
His fingers had found her face, tracing the sides of her cheeks delicately. She sighed into his mouth. She couldn't help it. Something devilish and sinful had crawled into her, and the last thing she wanted him to do was stop.
"Sakura," he whispered against her lips, bringing his arms down to wrap around her waist. He pulled her gently into him, until her front was pressed flush against his. Something deep in her core was tingling, and she found herself surrounded by a thick, all-consuming ache.
She couldn't help the moan that escaped her in the form of his name: "Kakashi-sensei."
As if being doused in cold water, Kakashi ripped his lips suddenly away. With her heart plummeting into her stomach, Sakura watched in confusion as he turned his face to the side as his eyes screwed shut. Like he was in pain.
"We can't," he gasped, and the words sounded ragged and forced. She had never heard his low voice take such a turbulent edge, despite having fought alongside him in multiple life-or-death battles. This is what it took to send him over the edge? "This isn't right."
That was the reaction she had been fearing, and she tried to dig her fingers into his collar to drag him back down to her in an attempt to silence his objections. Her dismay was immeasurable as he placed firm, strong hands on her wrists, forcing them downwards.
No! Why? After all she had been through tonight, this is the least she deserved! A kiss from someone who cared about her.
Was that really too much to ask for?
"You're drunk, Sakura," he said, this time with much more conviction. "And you're my student."
"So?" she dismissed quickly, panic rising up in her throat. This felt good, it felt right, despite all of the things stacked against them that should have made it wrong. She didn't want to lose this… whatever this was. "Who cares?"
He placed his hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her off of her toes. After she settled onto the heels of her feet she looked at him, heart shattering inside of the cavity of her chest.
"I care."
"Well, don't!" she pleaded.
"That's not how it works."
"That's stupid and you know it!" Maybe it was because Sakura was drunk and indignant, but she was tempted to throw a full-fledged fit.
"We can talk about this more tomorrow," he said lightly, smiling without emotion. Something stirred in her stomach at his expression. It was much easier to tell when he was being dishonest without the mask obscuring the majority of his face.
"You're lying," she realized, backing away. "Why?"
He sighed, looking away before tugging up his mask until it was back into its place.
"Let's get you into bed," he said, turning her around until he was able to gently guide her forward and into his bedroom.
As she settled between his sheets, tears burned behind her eyes. This wasn't fair! They liked each other, it was so obvious! His rejection stung in the worst way, but she didn't want to cry until he was gone.
"Goodnight, Sakura."
"This isn't a good night. This is a terrible night!" she snapped childishly, crossing her arms over her chest as she faced away from him and glared into the darkness.
"Well, lucky for you… you won't remember any of this in the morning." It was the last thing he said before he flicked the light off and shut the door quietly behind him. With a racing, jumbled mind, she cried herself to sleep.
Sakura awoke from the memory, heart constricting painfully inside of her chest. Her hands fell slowly from the sides of her face. Though she had been right all along, she didn't feel victorious. Somehow her brain had planted the seed of doubt; a dormant part of her had been ringing alarm bells since that morning.
Now she understood why:
She hadn't lost her first kiss to Kiba Inuzuka or had it stolen by Ryuu from the Sand Village. She had given it willingly to Kakashi Hatake.
A/N: Thank you guys so much for all of your reviews. I'm still SHOOK at how alive this fandom is after so many years. Idk why but I really thought this fic was gonna be a flop? Hahahaha. I hope you guys enjoyed it, I'm sure you guessed exactly where this was going (mwahaha) I love these two so much.
If you liked it, let me know! I've said it before but I'll say it again, reviews are my LIFEBLOOD.