6 pm.
Kenji's Café.
Look for the only young man in the room with white hair.
Yuka didn't know him, not really. For all she knew, he could be a serial killer.
They met on a local pen-pal service and exchanged letters for a few months – discussing mostly politics and ethics. Only four letters ago did they lapse into discussing their lives.
But still, it was astonishing how much they seemed to have in common.
'K' was in his late 20s and completely engulfed in work. Occasionally, he acted as a glorified babysitter – up until the usual demands battered at the walls. Despite his many colleagues, he felt asocial. Lonely, even. He didn't want to talk about his job.
'It's specialized nonsense that I can't even explain properly to my coworkers. I hope you don't mind if I'm vague about it."
As a teacher, her imagination filled in the blanks. Lesson plans devoured her social life. At least, they would if she had one to begin with. Because when she wasn't making lesson plans, she was researching child psychology and new teaching techniques. Open plan classrooms, ideal late work policies, identifying vulnerable students…
Plus, Konaha was stressful. She felt anxious going outside and seeing jumpsuits, cargo pants, weapons, and headbands. Only a small amount of the population, ninja were ironically very visible. Children of shinobi ran around popping out of walls and jumping off buildings. Also carrying weapons. So many fucking weapons everywhere. Sharp knives, throwing stars, needles, kunai, arrows, every projectile known to man.
Ninjas were a key part of local politics. Everyone had an opinion, mostly ranging from neutral to positive.
She had opinions about shinobi, too.
She didn't like them.
Words like 'violent elitist', 'fascist' and 'murderers' came to mind. She toned it down when the subject came up in their letters, but only a little.
The letters were a temporary oasis. K was delightfully pretentious, though he hid it between conciliatory lines. He indulged her inner snob like nothing else.
The man just seemed educated. Sensitive to nuance.
Eventually, the letters were not enough. Yuka wanted a real friend. And no, she didn't care that he was a man!
The full weight of the uncertainty crushed her.
'You should come out and drink tea with me.'
Ugh.
'You should'? What did she mean by that? How desperate. Disgusting. Weird. Creepy. What if he was worried about serial killers too? What if she inadvertently pressured him?
'K' being a serial killer? Meeting only out of obligation while secretly resenting her? Anxiety with a capital A. She was a tough girl. That's what her mother used to say, whenever she got scared.
For fuck's sake.
Yuka slipped into a waterproof overcoat and approached the door. On cue, her cat, an imposing grey tabby, trotted behind up until she closed the door in his face. Foiled again. Big Cat wouldn't escape that day, after all.
The grey mist crawling in from the forest gave way to more rain. Another shower. Early Spring in Konoha. Rain smell blended with fresh leaves and flowers. A good enough day to walk around outside, though Yuka feared it would get dark too early.
6 pm.
Kenji's Café.
…
The café was lit up with lanterns in a pseudo-traditional style. Cheap prints of sweeping landscapes and goofy drawings of animals submitted by the village's children adorned the same walls. Relaxing 'zen' music played through a single speaker, louder towards the entrance, quieter at the back. This was K's choice. Since she suggested drinking tea (activity), it seemed fair to let him pick the place (location).
Best matcha latte in Konoha, apparently.
Though she prepared herself to struggle to find 'K' among a large crowd, it was unnecessary. Kenji's Café was tiny.
Sure enough, he had white hair.
'Ha-ha! It's because I'm a genetic freak.'
While 'K' never mentioned it, and Yuka never asked, he was handsome. He also wore a medical-grade eyepatch.
Not that those two things mattered.
'K' was in the back left corner by the worst drawing of a horse she had ever seen. He stared intently at the door. It would have been creepy if he hadn't seemed surprised by her walking inside. An uncertain look darted across his face. He still wasn't quite sure if Yuka was the 'Yu' he was supposed to meet.
Alright. He didn't lie about his appearance. Nothing seemed off.
As Yuka approached the table, his uncertainty was replaced with a smile and a small sigh of relief.
"I was so close to explaining that I was just waiting to meet someone. Hi. It's good to finally meet you," he paused, "You are the one from the letters, right?"
"Yes, I am," Yuka smiled back.
Oh no. Oh no. This was awkward.
"I went ahead and ordered a latte for you. If you don't mind, I'll pay in case you end up hating it. Also…" he gestured towards the chair across him, "In this part of the country, it's legal to sit. I checked."
"Speaking of laws…" Yuka laughed and took a seat, "I still have a bone to pick with your last letter."
K raised an eyebrow, "I suppose we could hash out court reforms again. Maybe this time you'll come around on execution, you seemed really on the fence about it."
Heat flushed across her cheeks. She hated the practice of execution and sarcasm was certainly unnecessary. On paper it was easy to go point by point and respond. In person, he had a smug look that made her a little angry.
Maybe it would work out, after all. That exchange was a confirmation – almost a password - both parties were who they said they were. 'K' relaxed. Yuka didn't even realize he was tense.
"I haven't even asked you your name, yet."
"It's Kakashi."
"Yuka."
As one hour turned into two, they chatted about court reforms and a few older arguments they liked to 'turn over' as Kakashi put it. The more comfortable things got, the more casual the discussion. Navigating around roadwork. Whether or not the internet could be useful for research. Young shinobi defacing the city walls.
They clicked in person, better than they ever did over written word. Just similar enough. Different enough, too. Both were analytical. Kakashi took his time to speak but Yuka immediately knew what she wanted to say. She had to be careful not to talk over him too much. Otherwise, it was incredibly fun - just the conversation.
Yuka started talking about Big Cat, and how wonderful it was to have a cat in the house.
"I'd like a cat," Kakashi stared at the dregs of his latte, "But my lifestyle's unpredictable. I never know when I have to travel and that can take weeks. Honestly, I'm better off bothering street animals."
Yuka laughed, "Just go to a shelter and ask if you can pet the cats."
As she mulled over all he said about himself, the laughter faded. She frowned.
"You said you worked with kids?"
He looked up and it felt like he was staring with both eyes, "Yeah, so I did. In a way."
"You're being overly mysterious about it," Yuka chuckled, "What's wrong? Are you a gangster?"
What a weird way to joke.
Kakashi stared blankly ahead, "I'm shinobi."
A pit in her stomach. Yuka tried to keep her demeanor from changing. She attempted a smile, but it was like drawing a line in sand by the water's edge. "Oh. I see. That makes sense."
"Is it weird I'm relieved you hate it?" he sighed, a sad little smile following.
Obvious, huh?
Kakashi continued, "I wasn't trying to get something by you. It's only natural you ask, at some point."
"Why then?" Yuka murmured.
"People just have ideas about what it means to be shinobi. I try to make a point not to stereotype civilians, but I've had some frustrating experiences. The mere knowledge can be super distracting. I just wanted to get to know someone as though… Well, I don't know," he looked a little ashamed of himself before returning to a lack of expression.
The nerve to speak as though being a ninja was just someone's lot in life. It was clearly an active decision, one they made every day. There wasn't anything cute about 'trying not to stereotype civilians', either.
Yuka's eyes narrowed.
"…And you're not convinced."
"No. No, I'm not," she answered honestly, "But…"
She had a wonderful time. Kakashi was intelligent and seemed really kind. He was cute, too. It wasn't clear what anyone's intentions were, though. Maybe she should have sorted it out over letters, first. This revelation about his job, as unsurprising as it was, remained a problem.
Lingering over the eye-patch and the scar underneath, she considered that he wasn't a desk-shinobi. This man fought on behalf of the Land of Fire. Killed, maybe. Not that she really knew anything about him.
Most people in town approved of ninja. For a moment, Yuka envied them. Then she betrayed something that looked like shame. Damn, they really were alike.
"…Cosmologically, it's funny that we met. Were you expecting me to fawn over the ninja thing?"
"Eh. Your feelings weren't exactly subtle. I knew you didn't approve, at the very least," he paused, meeting her eyes again, "It's better to get this over with the first time we meet, right? How bad of a problem is me being shinobi?"
Yuka swallowed hard, thinking it over.
"I'm not going to pretend I don't like you, Kakashi. I teach kids and, well, that's how kids behave," Yuka glanced at the woman at the front counter, who was listening intently to their conversation.
"There's nothing immature about sticking with your beliefs, either," Kakashi added gently.
She blushed. Why did he have to be so nice about it? Any other ninja man in town would be sneering at her by now. Making her feel uncomfortable.
"I'd really like to see you again," Yuka admitted, "This doesn't mean I've changed my mind about the profession. If that doesn't offend you, could we-"
"Did you have a time in mind? Ah. Sorry."
Oh. That was fast. He liked her. Of course he liked her! Yuka was educated and interesting and worth talking to!
"Wait a minute, you're really busy, aren't you? How about you set the time," Yuka smoothed back her hair, confidence growing, "Sundays will usually work for me. I do my grading and lesson plans on Friday and Saturday."
"Well… Now that you mention it, next week is going to be terrible. The academy kids are taking their exams and it's my turn to test new Genin candidates. And if they pass, I'll have to prepare for that, too. The end of the week after should be alright."
Yuka glanced at the woman at the counter. She was clearly trying to set up for closing, despite how nosy she had been about their meeting.
"It's late. We'd better go. Oh, and thanks for paying," Yuka stood up, "Next time, it'll be my treat."
Kakashi meanwhile, stared into the dark void outside the windows, "Do you want me to walk you home?"
The cold pit in her stomach returned. He was nice but she didn't want to be alone with him, just yet. Knowing that he was shinobi only added to the anxiety. This man carried weapons on him. It looked like he was unarmed, but she knew better.
"You can say no," he added quickly.
"I'm sorry," she murmured.
"That's alright. I get it, Yuka," he looked embarrassed and prepared to leave, "Same place? Sunday, six o'clock?"
Relief. Also, disappointment. She didn't want to fear him. It wasn't as though she seriously thought he would try to hurt her. But… knives. "Let's do just that," she smiled, "Do you still want to write to each other?"
"That'd be fun."
"One more thing," Yuka asked, "Was this a date?"
"You know, I was going to ask the same thing, but I lost the nerve."
The woman at the counter snorted, betraying her badly hidden espionage.
…