Author's Note: Sorry this chapter was a few days late. I found writing this particularly difficult and welcome constructive feedback. Otherwise, thanks for reading!

...

Dad's envelope had been waiting for Yuka to return home. Photographs rested inside that paper shell, unaware of how much she dreaded gazing upon them. If she didn't open the envelope now, she may well not open it at all. Stick it in a drawer. Forget, oh so conveniently, because feelings were too difficult.

She tried not to do that, anymore.

Instead of unpacking groceries, she left her bag on the counter. Opening the envelope made her uncomfortable. Therefore, the envelope took priority over all other things.

Big Cat jumped onto the table and sniffed her hands as she ripped open the package.

A short letter rested on top of the photos.

'Everything alright, kiddo?

Happy to send you the copies, but I hope you're just feeling nostalgic. You've made it so far after those days. I'm proud of you and will be forever. I always, always knew that you were a good kid, and….'

Thanks, Dad.

Yuka set the letter aside.

Pulling out the photos, she sighed at the happy family portrait at the beginning of the stack. Strategically positioned, no doubt. Dad and Mom stood just behind Yuka and her two siblings. The family dog, Peachie, appeared as a blur darting across the scene. Hiroto's eyes were shut because he was laughing. Aiko scowled over the silliness.

Yuka hadn't realized the dog was 'ruining' the picture. Her dumb little face stared straight at the camera with a perfect smile.

Mom looked cheerful in her blue kimono.

Okay. That was enough.

Someone had to put those groceries away, and it wasn't going to be the cat.

…

The following week was crammed with things that needed to get done. Somehow, this made Yuka work harder. Laundry? Done. Big Cat's nails? Clipped. Homework? Assigned AND graded! She walked around with the fury of nine suns. No task would escape unfinished.

Sunday arrived along with the end of her to-do list. Kakashi's second date: Accept Yuka's checkmark and admit defeat!

Getting dressed for Kenji's Café almost felt like work. She moved like an old toy soldier with a wound-up spring. Lip gloss half-applied, she stopped and frowned at the bathroom mirror. Her whole body was rigid. Wasn't this supposed to be fun? Why can't you just breathe, Yuka?

There wasn't a point in pretending she didn't know.

Kakashi was a sweet, intelligent guy.

She liked him. Far more than she should.

Kakashi also made her nervous. Not in a particularly cute way, either. The moment she saw his green jacket and mask, a chill crept after the thought of him.

Yuka scowled and finished putting on her lip gloss. It had been bugging her all week. Now, she was thoroughly annoyed. Why the hell hadn't Kakashi been open from the start? Plenty of women weren't pacifists. Most people didn't give enough of a damn to have an opinion at all. This whole town…

Deep breaths. Angry thoughts couldn't help her. Yuka needed clarity.

Two options existed. One: She wanted to see Kakashi again. Two: She didn't. Option Two would always be available. Theoretically, at any moment, Yuka could decide to avoid him forever. It really wasn't that big of a deal. Sure, they've exchanged letters for months, but this was only their second date.

Maybe it would've been easier if they hadn't been so quick to label their meetings. The fact remained that there were no commitments. Kakashi and Yuka were two adults talking over cups of tea.

She pulled her dark hair into a ponytail and clipped in a blue butterfly.

"Let's go see Kakashi, then," she murmured.

Big Cat sat in the doorway to the bathroom, overly concerned.

…

More people were out than last time Yuka walked to Kenji's Café. They hung around the neighborhood streets, talking, calling for their children, or just looking up at the sky. Evening birds flew from bush to bush. A breeze kept the air nice and cool. She relaxed.

Yuka and Kakashi arrived at the café at the same time, from two different directions. She sped up a little to meet him, only to stop. Mostly because she was confused.

Kakashi was out of uniform. At the market, he covered his eye with his forehead protector. This time, it was fastened to the left arm of his blue jacket. The white eyepatch was back.

But… he still wore that mask.

"We're being mysterious again," Yuka frowned, "Do you always wear that thing?"

"Afraid so," Kakashi tried to smooth back his wild hair, "I sort of… don't like showing my face."

"You should have just worn one from the start, then," Yuka crossed her arms.

"And you're saying that you wouldn't have been uneasy, not even a little?" he tilted his head in a way that indicated a smile, "I thought showing up that way would've been really rude. But you've seen me grocery shop with a mask on. I'm more comfortable like this. That's about as mysterious as it gets."

"Was it hard… letting people see your face? Even for a few hours?" When someone said, 'I don't like to show my face', issues like poor self-image and anxiety came to mind. Yuka's inner Concerned Educator threatened to wriggle free from her subconscious.

He was a grown man who did secretive quasi-legal shit for a living. While it was unlikely he personally assassinated the Nagai Household in the Land of Rain, he was at least complicit. But. He shouldn't hate his appearance. That was just… sad?

…And he didn't seem to 'get' the question, anyways. Kakashi blinked. "Does it matter?"

The breeze picked up into a wind.

"Well, yes," Yuka opened up the door for him, "It does matter. Not that it's any of my business. Unless you do want to talk about it. But it's fine if not. More than fine, really-"

"Are you going to go inside, too?" Kakashi peered through the window next to the open door.

She stopped, cleared her throat, and hurried after him.

The second date was suspiciously similar to the first. Conversation ate up the first hour, most of it catching up.

Eventually, they ended up talking about things that would've been better over alcohol. Hell, somehow they sounded drunk without it, anyways.

"I'm not saying I wanted them to fail –" Kakashi began.

"You just happened to design a test that no one else has ever passed. How many times have you been in charge of testing kids - ?"

"Eight."

"Eight times three is twenty-four. That's twenty-four heartbroken and… hungry eleven-year-olds. What exactly does starving the children accomplish, again?"

"So critical. How else am I supposed to make them want to betray each other?"

Yuka grinned. That was positively evil. "The stakes were high enough when you lied about only two being able to pass. But I do have a problem with the base assumption behind the test design. Why not just tell them they're supposed to work together? They only ignored each other because you set up a scenario encouraging that behavior."

"In the real world, they'll face pressures undermining their teamwork. My test is… difficult. I will only work with those who can figure out the basics on their own," he sighed, "By shinobi teaching standards, it is a fair test. Filtering out the unprepared and untalented is important. Shinobi cannot be mediocre."

Exacting. Strict. Cold. Something about the shift in his tone made her skin crawl. Old school teaching, indeed.

"Well, a group's gotten past your filter. They passed. Since it's such a fair test, I'm sure you've prepared, right?"

"Of course I did," It was hard to tell, but Kakashi sounded a bit frustrated. Also… was it her imagination or was he blushing?

"You've been in charge of teenagers, before," Yuka added helpfully.

"I've always been the one to oversee ninja finishing their training. Usually, they're in that fifteen to twenty-one range. Most of the exceptions are older instead of younger. Experienced genins, potential chunins, new chunins," he rubbed the back of his neck, "In short, complete novices are unfamiliar territory for me."

Kakashi kept talking, but Yuka drifted off.

We are Chunin shinobi. Move along or your safety cannot be guaranteed! The situation is under control!

"Really, I just want them to do well. The board says I'm qualified to teach, so I will, but if you've got any helpful advice…" he trailed off, noticing that Yuka was hardly paying attention, "Are we okay?"

"You… trained… chunin level ninja?" she shook her head, "That would make you… I don't even remember what rank goes higher than that."

"Jonin. Do you need water? I'm serious, you look sick."

The matter was unavoidable.

Caught between how she hated discussing her past and how much she wanted to put it out into the open, Yuka swallowed hard.

"Can I completely derail our discussion for a moment? I'm sorry."

More than anything else, he looked and sounded worried, "Go ahead."

Which made her feel bad. The discomfort piled on top of every other feeling.

Rip it off like a band-aid.

"Remember when you said you had bad experiences with civilians?" she gave a weak laugh.

Something changed in his face, visible beneath the mask. His brow went soft. It was surprising how fast he caught on.

No. It wasn't. At that rank, he should know. What did 'frustrating experiences' with civilians entail? Presumptuous comments? Too much attention? "Bad experiences' with ninja implied victimization, due to the very nature of what they were. That he so readily understood helped her relax.

"That's not comparable," he murmured.

"You're right. It isn't," Yuka's lips drew thin, "Anyways. I don't want to be precious about it, but I've got issues with shinobi that go beyond my sense of ethics. That's not your problem."

"I avoided bringing up who I was at the very start. That wasn't right."

"It's not that hard to understand why you did it. You have feelings, too. And even after I found out, I still wanted to see you again," she sighed, "Maybe you were wrong. I don't know. For what it's worth, you still seem like the same guy from the letters. Sometimes it feels like I know you more than I do."

"I've felt the same way. Your writing style carries over into how you talk," he met her eyes. "…Do you have a problem with the mask? It's only something I like to wear," he reached to pull it down, only for Yuka to take his hand, stopping him.

"Don't do that on my account."

Oddly intense, but okay.

With a smile, she added, "The mask makes you look cool."

Yuka let go of his palm, a bit puzzled by her own actions.

All the words left them. The moment was, after all, terribly awkward. Too emotionally involved for a second date, not enough done to acknowledge their longer prior connection. Both people wanted equally for it to end or continue. Neither desired a string of endless one-sided compromise. Quasi-romantic purgatory.

Yuka stood up.

Kakashi followed. He glanced at the door, "Do we want to do this again?"

"You have a say in this, too."

"The implication of me asking is that I accept what you've told me, and I like you. Your move."

He looked tired.

Exam week must've taken a lot out of him. And if she remembered correctly, he asked for her advice. She was more than willing to give it.

His right eye and half-a-cheekbone was pretty cute, too.

Fuck it.

"Do you drink, Kakashi?"

"…Socially."

Yuka's cheeks got hot, "Then we could mix it up. Go to a bar on Saturday, instead? There's this place on the south end of the market strip that doesn't have a name. You just get into this alley and go through the third door."

Kakashi looked at her with zero expression.

"You're not trying to steal one of my kidneys, are you?"

She laughed, "Either you like the idea or you don't. We can go somewhere else."

"It's fine. Just keep in mind I'm required to report illegal activity. Underground gambling is off the table. No fun allowed."

Sometimes it was so hard to tell if he was joking.

In a strange way, she liked that about him.

…