I know you probably think that I'm so strange,

Stuttering on every word when you look my way, why?

And maybe it's all in my mind...

Naruto no baka!!Sakura-chan! I'm so sorry! Aghh!

She sent a glare at the horrified blond boy next to her as she limped over to a shaded area and plopped down. The cut wasn't too deep, but there was blood. She hated blood.

What's going on here?

Sakura kept her head down as she carefully pulled her sandal off, grimacing when the material rubbed against the cut. Her eyes rolled at Naruto's exaggerated and sheepish explanation.

She stole a glance at Kakashi and watched as he looked over her and her foot. He slipped off his gloves and tucked them into his pocket before kneeling on one knee in front of her. She bit down on her lower lip when he took her injured foot into his large and rough hands, so very different from her own smooth and delicate skin. When he ran his fingers over the top of her foot, she had to look away so no one would catch her blush.

It's not serious, but we should clean it.

She numbly nodded, rosy hair falling in wisps to cover her reddening face.

Naruto, Sasuke, report back to Hokage-sama. Tell her today's missions have all been completed.

Sakura's eyes widened at his words, hearing but not really listening to Naruto repeat his clumsy apology as he and Sasuke turned to leave. They were going to be alone. Together. They hadn't been alone since that night, three nights ago.

/Does he want to be alone with me?/

She didn't know whether she felt relieved or frightened at the thought, still embarrassed about the emotional outburst he had witnessed just a few days ago. And this was the first time he had touched her since then, even though he was only touching her to take care of her injury.

/Still... he doesn't have to do this. He could have just told me to clean it on my own, if it's not serious.../

His left hand gently lifted and held her ankle and his right was carefully cleaning the cut on her foot with a dampened handkerchief. They briefly made eye contact, he gave her a smile and then started to slip her sandal back over her foot for her.

Y-you don't have to do that for me.

But she didn't move away, nor did he let go. Instead, he held onto her ankle for a long quiet moment, looking down at the ground. She chewed on her lip as the tension in the air grew.

Do you want to do something tomorrow? she blurted.

/Shit, what am I saying.../

He looked up at her then, his brow raised in questioning.

Do I want to do something tomorrow?Yeah, you know, aren't you going to do your training again? I can help, like I did before....

Suddenly, all she could think about was how she wanted to feel his back again.

We have a day off, right? she continued, somewhat hurriedly and looking somewhere over his shoulder, So, if you want, I can help you. Bu only if you want, you know-I don't think so.

Her face froze in its nervous smile, her mind reeling.

/./

She saw him stand up in the corner of her eye and took the moment to take a deep breath before deciding on some damage control.

That's fine, she said loudly, I was just offering, you know. But if you're fine on your own then that's perfectly fine by me. I was just being nice and thought that I could-Why don't you stop by my house tomorrow? If you have time.Eh? Excuse me?

Sakura mentally slapped herself when she saw that he was reconsidering his invitation.

she answered, flinching at her own enthusiasm, I mean, yeah, that's fine with me. Tomorrow. Your place.

/Stop blabbering!/

He only stood there looking at her. For the briefest of moments, she swore she saw pang of regret on his face, but he nodded and left before she could really see.

/Tomorrow. Your place. Right. Smooth./

She groaned.



Wheels I guess are turning

Somewhere inside my head

I know that this is

Deeper than you get

There was a time when she used to fret about her underdeveloped body, but that time was no more. She wasn't as curvy as some of the other girls, but she was lean and long, suitable for a shinobi. Deliberately pushing out images of Kurenai-sensei's abundant bosom from her mind, she pushed down the waist of her pants so that they slung low on her hips, revealing pretty hipbones, and a sliver of a flat stomach. She ran a brush through her hair before leaving her house and mentally calmed herself.

It wasn't a date.

But still.

It felt like one.

She reached into her pocket and took out a piece of paper. On it was a detailed map and directions to his house, though it was unnecessary, as the way to his home was quite straightforward. She had stayed up late, unable to sleep because of frivolous nervousness and had spent two hours decorating and embellishing the map until it looked like a children's board game.

/Oh, god.../

She had never gone to a boy's house before, not with the intention of doing more than discussing important matters like school and missions or for a friendly meal. This was different. And she wasn't going to a boy's house, she was going to a man's house. Caught between a giggle and a groan at the thought, Sakura quickened her step.

/Stay calm. There's nothing to worry about. Stay calm./

She calculated quadratic equations in her head the entire walk there.

He opened the door bare foot and in his usual uniform, sans vest and gloves. The way he looked in just his black shirt and mask made her feel more comfortable, somehow.

Hi, sensei!

/Ahh! Why did I have to call him that now?!/

But he just smiled and made way for her to come in. She slid off her sandals and looked around as she walked inside. Wooden floors and furniture, nothing perfectly matching, but nothing that caught the eye.

/Eh. What a typical pad./

Her eyes stopped at his desk, which was piled with what looked like mountains and mountains of paperwork.

/Umm... /

He walked past her and towards the desk without a backwards glance.

I've got a lot of work to finish up.

/No shit./

You can have a seat over there.

He nodded his head towards a chair by the window, quite a distance from the desk.

Um, okay, she said meekly. This was definitely not what she had in mind.

/He invited me over to sit in a chair and watch him work? What the hell?!/

She crossed her arms and her legs as she sat down, annoyed and impatient. And the more she thought about the current situation, the closer she was to losing her temper. Her mouth opened to yell some sense into him, but she forced herself to look away and stare out the window to calm herself.

Are you thirsty? he asked after a while.

She didn't turn around.

I'm just fine.

He went back to work.

Where's the bathroom?Down the hall, first door on the right.What's all that for?

...................

/That idiot.../

/Ugh... my neck.../

Her eyes opened slowly, the lamplight harshly beaming in her face.

/Eh?! I fell asleep? Hell no! How embarrassing/

Any suicidal thoughts abandoned her when she saw him still bent over his desk. A glance out of the window told her that it was either really late into the night or early into the morning. The knot in her neck told her it was the latter.

A little unsure of herself, she sat quietly, watching him work, unaware of the expression on her face as she gazed at him. Ivy eyes were dreamy and soft, the corners of her lips raised in a little sad smile, revealing the smallest dimple in her left cheek.

When he turned to look at her, it was only meant to be a passing glance, to check to see if she had indeed awakened. What he saw made him pause his breath. When she realized he was looking at her, Sakura quickly let a bright smile mask her face. But he'd already seen everything.

He cleared his throat and went back to his work, his hand moving swiftly and briskly across the paper, the pen's scratches and marks breaking the silence of the room. She sighed deeply and her mind was decided. Bracing herself, she stood up and walked over to where he was sitting and leaned against the desk, hovering over him.

"Am I in your way?" she asked softly, not moving, but willing to if he asked.

It was happening again. That nervousness that resonated in her lower stomach and rose throughout, the light tingling that tickled its way up and down, down and up her spine. The slight dizzying spell when she inhaled too much of his scent.

His eyes wouldn't meet hers and this troubled her. Instead, he was looking away, eyes not concentrating on anything, which meant he was thinking. Thinking about this. Thinking about the situation, the consequences.

She had to stop it. Thinking would get in the way.

"I can help," she offered, stepping a little closer to him so that her knees brushed against his. He swallowed, but shook his head gently.

Biting down on her lip, she took a deep breath to gather her courage. Carefully watching and weighing his reaction, she moved even closer, so that she stood between his knees and he had to tilt his head back to look up at her. It was a little strange, since it was usually she that was looking up at him. Now that it was the other way around, a little thrill of power went through her body.

He was finally looking at her.

"Did you really invite me here to help you with your work?"

Proud of how calm and steady her voice sounded, she let a wave of boldness overtake her. Slowly, so very slowly, she sank down until she was straddling his lap. Her hands remained in fists on top of her thighs, shaky but determined.

He was utterly impossible, making her do all this just so he would look at her.

You're being kind of silly, you know.

Oh, she sounded so sure. So collected. And she could only pray that her face was as steady as her voice, not betraying the way her heart was beating so loud and discerning inside.

/You idiot, just touch me already!/

She frowned, apprehension taking its toll.

/Don't you... want to?/

She remembered what she had told him that night, desperate pleas echoing in her head.

/Don't ever touch me without meaning it./

So he really had taken it to heart.

Still biting her lip, she raised her right hand to his face. His gaze was so intense it was unnerving, so she instead concentrated on her fingertips. She didn't see the way his hands were clutching the arms of the chair.

/Let me... see. Please./

Her fingers brushed against his cloth covered face, softly, once, then twice before settling on his hitae. Tilting her head in question, she met his gaze, silently asking for permission. When he didn't move her hands away, she slid her fingertips underneath the head protector to slowly and carefully straighten it, lifting it over his left eye.

It remained closed and she took the opportunity to run her index finger over the neat and precise scar. The blemished skin barely felt different from the rest of his face; it was smooth and cool. Fascinated, she traced over it again and again, reveling in its silky texture.

And then his fingertips ran over her skin. She blinked and looked at him in surprise, but he was looking down where his hands were, at her hips.

/Oh./

His thumb slid over the horizon of her hipbone, lightly and delicately. Her breath stopped before her heart did.

He was touching her. How did he know? How did he know just where and how to touch her? Would she feel this dizzy and breathless if it was anyone else touching her there? Or was it because it was him? Was it the fact that it was him touching her that made all the difference?

She didn't really care.

When he looked back up at her, both his eyes stared intently into hers. The shock of red she saw sent something sharp and smooth into her insides. And /oh, god/ she couldn't breathe.

And as if struck with a holy epiphany, she suddenly leaned over so that her face floated just over his, her nose brushing against his forehead.

His left hand still gripped tightly to the chair, his knuckles white from the pressure. But his right hand, his right hand was on her, moving softly and knowingly over the bare skin. It was more than enough encouragement.

She let her lips brush against brow, then over his eye, and finally pausing at his cheek before repeating it all over again. She heard the sharp intake of breath and knew she was doing something that pleased him.

So she raised her hands, letting only the tips of her fingers rest on his jaw before shyly kissing the skin right above his eye. Her lips were warm and velvety on his cool skin. The sensation of opposing temperatures sent a jolt of stumbling emotion through her.

And for one blinding and crazy second, he knew exactly what he wanted. He wasn't going to argue or justify himself or do any of those things a responsible adult would have done. He wasn't going to twist this up with reason.

He leaned into her touch.

It was all she needed. Not because she felt braver, but because she just felt as if she just had to, she kissed him over and over again, lips pressing against his smooth eyelids, whispering over his pale brow, slipping over the expanse of his cheekbone. She distantly realized one of his hands was touching her hair, furtively tracing circles on her scalp.

So silly, she whispered breathlessly, lips never ceasing in their caresses, why did you make me wait?

Without waiting for an answer, she began a patternless rhythm, her lips exploring and claiming every inch of revealed skin above his mask, never rushed or careless in its motions. Every kiss, every press of lips against skin was thoughtfully and purposefully given.

Didn't you-

Her eyes opened in surprise when she was cut off by suddenly being pressed against him. His arms were around her and holding her close; so close she could feel the pulse from his throat against her cheek.

He was breathing heavily into her hair through his cloth mask, not shakily, just heavily. Her arms were uncomfortably bent and pressed against her sides, but her mind was moving and swaying out of control.

/I can't believe I just did that./

His hands were gripping the back of her neck and her waist. She couldn't tell whose heartbeat was whose, only that both were heavy and desperate.

he said hoarsely, you have to be sure about this, Sakura. You have to be completely sure.

She laughed weakly.

Is that why you were ignoring me until now? Because you weren't sure if I really wanted this?

He didn't answer, but neither did she really. After a while, his arms loosened around her enough for her to wrap hers around his. She nestled her face in the crook of his shoulder, where it was warm and safe.

Hold me.

Whatever lies beyond this morning,

Is a little later on.

- hitae is the Ninja headband that everyone wears.

A/N- I tried to write more of Kakashi's feelings in this chapter. I know it's still really cloudy as to what exactly he is thinking, but isn't that why we love him? Kakashi is so elusive and enigmatic, when I read the manga or watch the anime I'm always questioning him. So I end up bringing my own personal reaction to him into the story.

I'm nervous about the chapter again. Err...

Funny enough, even though I'm the one writing this story, I feel as though I don't have control over it. I just start writing and this is what happens. Hm. I'm not sure if Sakura really loves Kakashi. Maybe she does, maybe not yet, maybe never will? But I know that this is different from whatever she felt for Sasuke.

This paragraph:

And for one blinding and crazy second, he knew exactly what he wanted. He wasn't going to argue or justify himself or do any of those things a responsible adult would have done. He wasn't going to twist this up with reason.

really took me by surprise when I wrote it. It was the closest thing to being inside his head for me....

Yes. Definitely nervous...

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, it really inspires me when I write.