Saving Faith
Chapter Fourteen: Almost So Perfect
Yūgao sipped tea mid-morning at a quaint cafe while she listened to the buzz of gossip shared amongst the other patrons. She ate a pork bun on the lawn amid young mothers who watched their children play after a picnic nearby–and let them assume she either had or lost her own.
She shopped for ingredients she would never use and accessories she would never wear. She watched two old men squinting at each other in suspicion as they played shōgi–and let them regale her with stories of days gone by.
No one mentioned strange shinobi passing through.
Three towns later and the fatigue leadened her steps as she climbed to their second floor rooms. Her mind kept racing back to the map Genma frequently consulted. At least the eastern border seemed secure.
But that niggling thought remained. Were they just too far off the path to Sound?
Her companions' room sat dark and silent as she passed it to reach her own. She must have beat them back, and she briefly wondered if that meant they would arrive soon with dinner in tow. Whomever lost one of the wagers the evening before had to buy, perhaps.
With time to spare, she laid her pack on her bed, carefully sorting the items within. While some might think the process tedious, she enjoyed the routine of it, from testing each kunai before rewrapping it gently in cloth, to polishing her ninjatō hidden securely among the rest of her possessions. And truly nothing soothed her spirit as much as pulling her comb through her hair after a long day.
The camellia flower drooped a little when she plucked it from its place, and she gave it a spin between her fingers as if to revive the wilted petals. It wouldn't last another day and already she ached to think of parting with it.
A quiet knock on the door interrupted her reflection. Kakashi, left eye closed and right crinkled in a hint of humor. "Seems it's just the two of us tonight," he informed her, holding out a scribbled note.
She recognized Genma's handwriting immediately. "So he finally couldn't resist a night on the town," she concluded, though the tone was warm. Best he got to enjoy some of the travel their mission demanded-in fact, she was glad for him. Where he got the energy remained a mystery just beyond her imagination.
"I know you're tired." Her gaze snapped back to Kakashi's at that, searching that ever-inscrutable sable. Protest poised on the tip of her tongue; she was no more tired than them, more than able to tough it out…
His eye, however, fell to the bloom still held in her hand. "But maybe he has the right idea. It could be our last night like this."
In an inn. In a nice town. Not on sea, or racing to meet the Raikage in hope of answers and aid.
"Yūgao-san, would you like to go out for dinner?"
"Kakaski-senpai, I-"
"No," he interjected, and now both eyes trained on her. "My apologies-let me ask properly."
His gaze held intensity yet vulnerability, a look she was still only coming to know. Despite the flower in her grasp, his fingers brushed hers, a featherlight caress that stole her breath away as his other hand lowered his mask.
"Yūgao, may I take you to dinner?"
The way he said her name unraveled some unnamed part of her. He spoke to her again as a man to a woman, not a teammate, colleague, comrade, friend-though they were all those things and so much more.
His touch fell away but the effect remained, curling outward from the contact in a tendril of warmth that snaked all the way to her heart.
Of course, of course, that part of her wanted to say. He could take her anywhere.
But the other part, the larger part, the part that pain and endurance and fortitude had chiseled away as surely as it shaped her muscles and honed her jutsu, it said caution. Too much of this and she would drown.
"I'm afraid it won't be romantic," he added softly, and within regret she sensed an attempt at reassurance. Caution had threaded itself into every fiber of him, too.
"It doesn't need to be," she answered. "I'd love to have dinner with you."
The ramen shop practically invited them. Its golden half-circle of light on the street beckoned them toward empty seats tucked to one side of the counter where they might eat relatively undisturbed.
Their walk had been pleasant, if silent. She kept resisting the urge to glance at him; the few times her resolve failed she spied only his profile, focus fixed ahead. He looked deep in thought-but then, his gaze always seemed distant.
Only at the snap of their chopsticks did she break the silence between them. "Iruka told me how Naruto would clean the two of you out for ramen any chance he could. I thought you might be tired of it after that."
Light. Casual. Friendly. Not romantic, as he said.
Kakashi chuckled, a sound given more body and richness without his mask. "I suppose it grew on me."
But she heard the truth tucked just behind the simple words. They had grown on him. And then they had grown up, and while he would always be their sensei, they had their own lives now.
She hesitated before she ventured quietly, "Tell me about them?"
His surprise registered easily without the cover of cloth, though whether for her perception or the shift in topic she couldn't say. "I'm sure I couldn't tell you anything you haven't already heard."
The smile she gave him proved his dismissal wouldn't work. Just in case, she pressed gently, "I'm sure you could."
What better way to catch up on the years than to hear of the young shinobi he trained and loved?
He seemed to turn almost bashful, and she realized in that moment she liked that look of him nearly best of all. She wondered if this might be the best of what lay ahead, simply discovering all the expressions he made behind what previously seemed a locked door.
Regardless, he indulged her. Because he wanted to, at first. Because he couldn't help himself, in the end.
Stories lasted long after they finished their meal. Stories of triumph- "I hypothesized that Naruto could exponentially increase his training using his shadow clones," and "Sakura was always stronger than she knew." Stories of heartache- "When Sasuke first left, it was hard not to wonder what I should have done differently. Probably everything."
What began as dinner turned into a stroll under the moonlight, their figures close for the words exchanged. They were still shinobi on a crucial mission, no matter how easy it felt to believe otherwise for one evening. Fear of danger might lay relatively dormant but it nestled deep in the marrow of their bones, biding its time.
And there was a time or two as they wound through the sleeping town that they tended, or cast quick sideways glances, or shared an alert one between them. But it was a cat, or a guard on his way home after a shift, or the subtle rumble of a small crowd exiting a bar.
Fear of danger became fear of discovery. Much as she wished to drift even closer or take his hand, she could not. She refused to put them or their stolen happiness in jeopardy.
Their steps soon rounded the bend, leading them back toward the inn. So much memory shared lapsed into a deep silence, filled with both joy and sorrow. They'd lost much. They'd gained more.
She wondered just how many regrets he still had to ponder at the memorial stone. Hers alone felt innumerable at times.
"The Third Hokage chose you to be their teacher for a reason," she said, knowing he needed no validation. Yet she offered it freely, praise for the passion and heart she recognized he devoted to his students' care. "Your own sensei would be proud."
The look he gave her held that same vulnerability from before, new and almost frightening. He seemed about to say something more, lips parted as he searched for the words.
Until a sharp whistle from behind them caused his mouth to shut and jaw to flex just once before his expression smoothed to its usual blank.
"This is a good cover for the two of you."
Genma. Of course.
"A young couple in love, out for a moonlit stroll," he continued, and she heard the humor in his voice despite that she didn't dare meet his eyes.
He sidled up to them both, and she realized they really had reached the inn again, all but standing on its doorstep. No wonder their teammate caught up to them.
"But next time, Kakashi," he added, as he took Yūgao's hand and threaded it through his arm, "you could at least offer her your arm."
They smelled the sea long before they saw it.
Yūgao couldn't remember the last time a mission took her to the water. A couple of years at the minimum, with no time for sightseeing as they executed their objective. It had been even longer since she enjoyed any of the scenery around her.
Genma's night out served a surprising purpose. He made a connection with a harbormaster by way of a distant relative, who now offered them the fastest trip across to the Land of Lightning, just the three of them.
They knew better than to let their guard down. Even though their ship captain seemed a humble fisherman without a trace of malice in his body, the conversation Genma spun with the man was vague, focused more on his nautical life and expertly deflecting any inquiries about the three travelers from the west. By the end, she believed she could recite a couple dozen varieties of fish in the local waters, while the man probably didn't know their names.
Her stomach tipped only once, when their captain veered to avoid a shoal. When her grip tightened on the rail, Kakashi materialized beside her, his hand falling reassuringly across her own. An unspoken question that she answered with a small smile.
He moved his palm away a moment later, single eye crinkling in amusement. "I never did ask if you forgave Hayate for your first trip on the water."
"I could say the same to you," she remarked, her own smile widening. "You didn't raise your voice but we all knew you were furious."
A chuckle, and the copy-nin scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "I didn't have much patience back then."
"In your defense, Hayate was always a bit of a blowhard around our Yūgao here," Genma said, joining them at the rail.
"Did he tell you the story?" she inquired.
"Bits and pieces. Something about a boat capsizing with you in it while on your way home." Genma turned, now leaning on his elbows and staring up at the clear sky overhead.
Another chuckle from her left. "He didn't tell you he punched a hole in the boat with his sword?" Kakashi chimed in.
"I figured it was his fault when he came asking for advice on a good apology gift," Genma laughed. "What I'm still fuzzy on is how you made it to shore after that."
Yūgao and Kakashi shared a glance tinged with humor, before they answered in unison, "Tenzō."
"He repaired the boat," she continued. "Of course, we were already soaked, and our captain was…"
"Incredibly unimpressed," Kakashi supplied, with a final chuckle. "But we completed our mission and returned safely. And I think Hayate learned a valuable lesson."
"Don't piss off Hatake Kakashi?" Genma quipped.
They all laughed.
The remainder of the trip across the water slipped quietly by. Hayate had worked hard to make that initial experience up to her, even going so far as to promise he would take her to a resort on the southern shore soon.
Soon became someday. And then someday never came.
"It's been awhile since I played lookout."
She could practically hear the smirk on Genma's face, though she didn't leave her hiding place in the foliage to confirm. Reaching the Land of Lightning meant they could hasten to Kumogakure-just not in a kimono.
Her male counterparts swapped casual wear for their standard flak jackets, and Kakashi wrapped a bandage around his thigh as she shrugged into a jacket of her own. It felt strange to dress without her ANBU vest and mask, but a foreign operative raised many more eyebrows than three friendly, allied Leaf shinobi. They still couldn't be sure they wouldn't meet resistance on the way.
With her bag repacked, she exited her changing area. "Thank you, Genma."
"Just don't forget to praise my chivalry next time we have a pretty waitress."
Kakashi shook his head, his focus trained on the task of tugging on his gloves. Yūgao just sighed.
They made good time across the terrain, skirting southeast around the western desert. Faced with the looming mountain ranges, they decided to make camp before starting the climb to Kumogakure.
She warmed her hands by the fire, and accepted the bento handed to her by Genma. "More chivalry?" she lightly teased.
"If you can learn to joke around, I think I can learn some new tricks," he teased back.
"I thought they said old dogs never do," Kakashi added.
Genma belly laughed. "Let's summon Pakkun and ask him what he thinks."
They all joined in with that, and Yūgao felt the warmth of companionship more than that of the fire. It battled the unease seated deep within her, what warned of danger and the looming threat, a strange sort of tension. As an operative, she lived on the knife's edge always waiting for the scales to tip.
But for one more night before their first objective was complete, she just wanted to enjoy the company of her friends far from home.
"Speaking of…" she started, smile widening as she set her chopsticks aside and her gaze moved between both men before settling on Kakashi. "I've noticed…" And she trailed off, instead opting to touch her left eye.
Kakashi blinked in surprise, and both eyes did open this time.
Genma, however, didn't miss a beat. "You still keep it closed sometimes. What was that about old dogs again?"
After another round of quiet, shared laughter, the copy-nin scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "They also say old habits die hard." He paused, his focus finding Yūgao across the flame. "I don't even notice. Is that strange?"
No, I think it's charming, she thought to herself. She ignored the heat in her cheeks a moment after realizing he probably read it in her eyes.
Fortunately, Genma made a joke and the moment passed. She volunteered for the first shift of their night watch, and soon three sleeping rolls were out and two huddled figures slept under her vigilance.
The moon hung full overhead, and she drew her knees to her chest as she watched it pass behind the clouds. As it shone, a bright beacon against the velvet curtain of a dark sky, she pledged anew to spend every breath left in her body fighting to protect her friends, their village, the future.
If only she had a good feeling about what lay ahead.
A/N: I cannot write more without mentioning two of my fans - Hana and Shirley - who have supported me across years. Your support means so much to me, thank you!