I do not own Naruto.


Chapter 11


The shadowy realm shifted into a blur of white—and then again darkness. It was the familiar scene of consciousness behind closed eyelids. Kakashi opened his eyes slowly, skylight swooped into his line of vision like the sun through cracked blinds. He wondered if that would be the last time he saw his father.

Thoughts of Hatake Sakumo faded, and in their place soft features of a woman formed within his line of sight. Her eyes were remarkably large. They reminded him of ebony wood, dark and smooth, the black trim of lashes brought a decorative pattern to their depths. Her face was delicate, ending at a small chin, glassy pink lips hovering just above it.

He found it curious. The seraph would be without blemish—and for a moment she was—if only her image was not upside down. The pretty creature transformed before him (and above him), and her cheeks became scraped and dirty. Neither had he ever known divine entities to weep. Clean tear trails emphasized how ashy her face really was. It could be ash from fire or debris. It was as if the world had tried to dirty a heavenly thing. It was as if the world had tried to shock the blamelessness right out of her. And she was incredibly shocked, pink mouth whitening and eyes bloodshot with irritation caused by smoke in the atmosphere. No matter, he concluded, an unclean seraph was infinitely still a seraph. Also…

Also, she had a strong resemblance to Teuchi-san's daughter, the Ramen Girl. Incredible.

And then Kakashi's heart leapt into his mouth and with it his head off of Ichiraku Ayame's lap.

He looked around, heart racing as he sat up faster than his body could make sense of. He had died! His father—otousan. Kakashi was barely registering what had happened when hands were upon him, patting him down to somehow confirm he was no mere illusion.

"Kakashi-sensei!" Choji cried and others called to him too.

Kakashi was in a daze. He had died. He patted his chest and arms and then his legs. Everything was intact—in fact he had never felt better. When he touched his neck, his fingers became covered in blood. The scent was not his—but whose?

Despite the others around him, relentless in their fussing, Kakashi managed to twist from his seated position. And there, within the circle of concerned comrades, sat Ichiraku Ayame. Her arms were slightly extended towards him, palms facing the heavens, as if she were giving praise to God. He must have knocked her hands up when he shot forward. Her pale mouth was set in a small oval—red eyes as surprised as his to see a dead man come alive. She was frozen in place—left wrist bleeding on to the debris between them. She was losing color fast.

"Ayame-chan," Kakashi said and everyone, including himself, jumped at how casual a freshly resurrected voice could sound. His eyes never disconnected from Ayame's. Her focus on him diminished and then she proceeded to faint.

The bamboo curtain lifted slowly inside of the large sanctuary. The first thing he saw was a formerly sitting lap clothed in white and long kimono sleeves which covered neatly folded hands. The further the curtain went up, the more white it revealed. Even as her neck was slowly exposed, it had been paled with an excessive amount of traditional powder. And suddenly there was a striking red brushed across a usually pink mouth to perfectly form feminine lips. The lips were slightly parted, and he knew she was nervous. Then there was her paled nose and dark eyes, almost feline in the way coal was used to emphasize their almond shape.

When she saw him straight across from her, she smiled shyly. And then her smile fell and he realized he had not returned it. She blinked rapidly and tried to find something else to look at but there was only the priest to her right and drones of silent people to the left. Her gaze returned to his, dazed.

He willed himself to relax, trademark smile following soon after. He lifted a hand and waved—there. She smiled again, shyer still.

Ichiraku Ayame was a simple girl from a simple background. She was pretty and good at her trade and her body was lovely but nonlethal. Although she was strong of will, she was still delicate. It was ironic that a version of her name could mean to murder or wound, yet she was the furthest thing from a shinobi. At least the kind of shinobi he grew up. The new generation was different. Killing was not part of the job anymore and it was no longer condoned in most situations. Killing was a last resort.

—why in heaven's name was he thinking about work right now?

Ayame went to wave at him too but then quickly put her hand back on her lap, remembering proper etiquette even though he had completely disregarded it. She had more to prove today than he ever had when the Hokage title was handed to him. She passed him an "oops" expression and he simply shrugged. Her smile widened. Despite her expression and the beauty of the intricate kimono she wore, he could tell she was uncomfortable. In her condition, the layers of clothing would exhaust easily, never mind their audience of both loved ones and noble strangers gawking at them. The way she sat, and the amount of time they would be sitting for the ceremony, would tire her faster.

The habitual nudge of guilt swirled in his sternum but the still small voice of peace and understanding fought against it. Today did not have enough time within its twenty-four hours to accommodate his guilt. This was about the village. Ayame and he both knew it.

Those allowed into the private ceremony whispered murmurs of approval from their seiza sitting positions—his students, friends, the other kages, feudal lords and their wives—but he could not hear them over the sound of the blood in his veins.

He was recollecting what happened almost three years ago—he did not wish to but he was. She sat there across the hall, festooned into the perfect bride. Although he felt every masculine element stir within his veins, desire flaring as onlookers took in the bride alongside him, Kakashi remembered. He remembered her not as this—expecting and dutybound—but as the young woman who hung on to a corpse for the hour Naruto battled Pein, as the young woman who he awoke to in resurrection and bewitched him. He asked himself for months and months how it would feel to wake up every morning to the image of what she had made him feel.

Yet there was guilt and shame.

Certainly, every morning from this day he would have what he once desired all that time ago. Perhaps in another world, circumstances would have been different and today she would have been smiling confidently, completely willing despite his titles and even her feelings.

In another world, she would be confident because she would know of his adoration.


It was the second change of the day: the red kimono. It was not plain like the white one but exotic and intricate with gold designs. Her traditionally styled hair was decorated with a flowery jade ornament that jingled every time she moved. She looked lovely but—it was her wedding day and her breasts were incredibly sore. She was supposed to meet Kakashi out on the Tower's roof with the entire village as their audience before the wedding reception started. If that wasn't daunting enough, the seamstress was presently very upset.

"It does not fit as before."

"I'm sorry," Ayame whispered.

The willowy, formerly dressed woman clicked her tongue in disapproval. Every time Ayame saw the woman she was dressed in black. Maybe…it was a fashion statement? Her dark, tightly wrapped hair and deep widow's peak simply added to her regal attitude.

Her plump assistant looked her up and down as Ayame awkwardly stood on the changing pedestal. "Too many snacks perhaps? Honestly what kind of bride isn't mindful of her weight after measuring kimonos? For goodness' sake, it is your wedding night."

Chagrined, Ayame smiled through the embarrassment. She had finally started to gain back her previous weight, and with it, a telling bump on her abdomen and bigger boobs. She had put the under kimono on before the seamstress came into the dressing room with her assistant. It hid everything well enough, she hoped. But the measurements had changed, and the red obi was not making her as slim as before. The white kimono had no shape to it. It was simply bulky and heavy and her tummy had been safely hidden. But the red kimono was different—it was a little more modern, designed to flatter her figure but the curves the seamstress had aimed to accent had both grown—her breasts and her waist. Her butt was as pronounced as ever—no change there.

Clearly displeased at the new development, the seamstress said, "You will just have to suck it in while we tighten the obi to its limit—"

"No!" Ayame blurted and the two women blinked up at her. "I don't want to be uncomfortable."

The seamstress lifted her chin up, elongating an already lengthy neck. "Daishukujo-sama, you must look your best. That means looking as slim as possible in the uchikake kimono."

"I will feel uncomfortable." They could hurt the baby if they squeezed her belly too tight. Ayame was already worried she had tired her body out too much with the heavy white kimono.

"I insist."

"And I said no."

At the harshness Ayame used, the seamstress's eyes dropped to her abdominal region and narrowed. "Oh my."

Oh no.

"I just...don't want to be uncomfortable," Ayame insisted but she was not good at playing it cool. She wasn't Kakashi. "It's been a long day." It was not a lie. Her legs hurt from sitting seiza for so long.

The seamstress smiled and came closer to Ayame. "No worries, dear. We will work with what we can."

"Okay," Ayame spoke softly, wishing instead of the two strangers, her mother and sister could dress her. Her mother would be kind and Yumi would be in one of those rare, good moods. They would not be staring at her with narrowed, judgmental eyes like these two women were.

"Do you think they switched out the sake for water?" the assistant said under her breath and the seamstress hushed her, knowing Ayame had clearly heard.

Ayame's gaze concentrated past them without a word as they fumbled with her clothing. She would not cry. She would be strong—for the village, for her baby. Something like this was bound to happen. It would happen more, as others noticed. If what Kakashi said was true, a lot of sensory shinobi like Naruto and Yugao probably already knew. Many of them, from other villages, may have realized it during the ceremony.

When the women finished tying her up in an acceptable, comfortable fashion, the seamstress and her aid extended their hands to help Ayame step down. Ayame ignored their hands and stepped down herself. Without looking at them, she said, "I would like for one of you to call my husband." That sounded so weird. She had a husband now.

The seamstress tried not to but became fretful at the request. "Milady, the Hokage and the village are expecting you to join them out on the roof in less than ten minutes."

Ayame strode to the window of the room reserved for her in the Tower. She peeked through the heavy curtain, disregarding everything that had left the woman's mouth.

"I'm waiting."

Oh Ayame definitely sounded bossier than she felt. There were suddenly whispers of commands and the assistant hurried out of the room. Ayame glanced over her shoulder at the seamstress. "You can go join the village down there. Tell your friend too. Thank you for your assistance today."

"Bu-but milady, we are to attend to your attire the remainder of the evening."

"That will no longer be necessary." And then Ayame opted for Kakashi's trademark eye crinkle.


Kakashi stood on the roof in formal kimono haori wear, Hokage hat in hand. It was brought to him after the ceremony so the elders could officially present him to the village as their newly hitched kage. And so he could, as their Hokage, present the new Daishukujo. Below them drones of people chatted and laughed and hooted. Many of them were also neatly dressed. Kakashi found it endearing.

On the roof with him were a few others. Some of the elders and clan leaders, the previous Hokage and, of course—

"Nervous, my eternal rival?" Gai beamed beside him, gloved hands resting on the push rings of his wheelchair.

Kakashi glanced down at his friend. "Something like that."

"You may have beaten me in love, Kakashi, but not for long. Rest assured, we'll go on double dates soon enough." The idea of going on a double date with Maito Gai was disconcerting yet completely intriguing.

"I think I'll take you up on that," Kakashi admitted, picturing what kind of woman would fall in love with someone as…particular as Gai. And then said woman exchanging dialogue with his new wife.

Gai grinned. "I'll ask one of my contacts."

Kakashi was enthralled. "One of your—"

"Pardon, Hokage-sama."

He turned to a deeply bowing Yugao. She was dressed nicely, Anbu getup nowhere in sight. "Why, hello there, Yugao-san. You look lovely."

"Thank you, sir. Ayame-sama wishes for your audience. She has dismissed the seamstress. The woman had been directed to fetch you herself, but I intercepted."

Tsunade laughed beside them, easily picking up on the conversation. "Your bride sure wastes no time to exert her authority." Koharu and Homura exchanged glances. And then they both proceeded to grumble and hand Tsunade some money.

Kakashi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Is that so?" Little did they know, Ayame was the type that did not tolerate nonsense and exerted authority daily, especially when she disagreed with Kakashi. At times she could even be brazen, but she knew how to apologize.

Considering a seamstress's occupation and how closely they worked with the human body, Kakashi had an inkling of what had been discovered—something self-righteous morality could not help but sneer at. He imagined Ayame, alone and found out.

"I'll be quick."

"Hurry, lover boy," Tsunade called after him. "The village is waiting."

Yugao and Kakashi made their way into the building's rooftop entrance. They started down the spiral of steps and before he could ask Yugao what room, Ayame stood at the base of one of the stairwells.

The white face powder had been removed for a more natural look and the red kimono seemed lighter than the previous one. The tail of the uchikake sprawled magnificently around her. She must have carried it all on her own. His montsuki and juban pieces were heavy—he could only imagine her formal wear. Her posture was relaxed but he knew she was trying not to cry, bottom lip wobbling as it was. His gaze softened.

She looked dazzling.

"Ayame," he said, reaching her at the stairwell. Yugao silently stood to the side, head lowered and back towards them.

"I fired them."

"I know."

"They know."

He nodded once. She truly looked lovely, anxious as she was. This was what hypnotized him every time.

She blushed, glancing at Yugao's back. And then she stepped forward and hugged him. He was ready for it and returned the affection. "I wish I was as strong as you," she whispered. "You're doing great today."

"Hey," he said gently, parting only a little from the embrace so he could look at her. "You're not so bad yourself."

She giggled halfheartedly and then sobered. "Is the whole village really out there?"

"Oh yeah."

She smiled unwillingly. "Your sarcasm is a little misplaced right now."

"It's a defense mechanism."

Her smile only widened. "You're just trying to make me feel better." Before he could retort with another whimsical phrase, Ayame leaned up and kissed his cheek. He shut up. "Thank you, Hokage-sama."

He blinked slowly. Once, at another wedding, she had also kissed his face. "Yeah…"

She ginned at him. "It's working."

He returned her smile. "I'm glad."

As it was, he had not done very much. Indulging her so easily was a testament of her feelings, he was sure. His type of humor mostly received eye rolls but she always laughed.

Again, he fought against self-depreciating thoughts. He was not as he once was—he only needed to look around to remember the past did not define him. But here in front of him was a woman who had, and would, be burdened due to a momentary withdrawal of that past. He was not the man he once was—not at all—but every human ran the risk of drawbacks on their life's journey. She had caught him on one of those times. Rather, he had caught her.

Ayame's blush deepened when he dragged a thumb across the edge of her bottom lip, mindful not to ruin the red lipstick.

"Every day I will try to make you happy."

Her mouth parted, awed by his words. "You will?"

He nodded. Once more he recalled waking up to her after an unbelievable encounter with his father. A relapse of self-depreciation could no longer be measured around this woman. Or his child.

"Kakashi…" she named him with such tenderness and called him by no titles. "We're going to be together for…a long time, and I know it's because of…but…what I'm trying to say is if you'll be the only man in my life and I'll be the only woman in yours, then I will do my best to be good to you and the village. I give you my word."

"You have mine as well." With every word she spoke over his life he recalled more and more the imagined seraph from long ago. Of course they would not be involved with others in the marriage—anything contrary to that notion had never crossed his mind.

Yugao harrumphed. The couple looked over at the bowing Anbu. "Pardon again, Hokage-sama, but everyone is waiting."

Ayame gasped. "Yugao-san?"

Yugao nodded, violet hair swinging from a decorated clip.

"You're so beautiful!"

Kakashi was curious to find a touch of pink coat Yugao's cheeks as she glanced at the new Daishukujo. No such thing had blossomed on her face when he had complimented her.

"Thank you, milady. But today, no one compares to your beauty."

Ayame fanned herself. "My goodness, Yugao-san! That's so nice!"

"It is the truth."

"You're getting a raise!" Ayame suddenly blurted, hugging the Anbu and Kakashi frowned.

Yugao smirked over Ayame's shoulder at him. "You look pretty today, too, sempai."

Kakashi narrowed his eyes at his subordinate. "Nice try."

Ayame released Yugao with carefree laughter, teeth whiter than usual against the red lipstick, worries forgotten. "Alright! Let's go up there. Oh, and another thing…since I fired those two, I have another request."

"Anything," Kakashi found himself saying.

Ayame smiled prettily at his newfound habit of indulging her. "I'll need a few ladies by my side for the evening. These dresses are…complicated."

"Oh." Kakashi's brows rose. "I see. Did you have anyone in mind?"

Ayame nodded. "I did, actually…"


Sakura, along with the rest of the village, excitedly waited down below the Tower to witness the coronation of the new Daishukujo. The last Hokage that had married while in office had been the Shodai, the rest of the kages had inherited the position while already married. And this was Kakashi-sensei! Ayame-san had looked so pretty in her white kimono earlier in the sanctuary. Sakura was excited for the next outfit.

Naruto stepped beside her. "Hey Sakura-chan! Isn't this cool?"

Sakura grinned, bouncy in her joy. "And we thought he'd never get married."

His grin only magnified as it usual did. "I guess we men can't help ourselves sometimes."

She wondered, thinking about Sasuke. If what Naruto said was true, then Sasuke was the opposite. She sighed and Naruto nudged her with his shoulder, knowing her thoughts, feeling similar. Maybe their fate was to always long for Sasuke's presence but never obtain it.

"Hey, Naruto."

"Yea?"

"He was supposed to be back by now."

Naruto nodded, momentarily serious. "Sensei says the situation over there is delicate."

"I know. One of the survivors has started going to the new program."

"Haruhi-san, right?"

Puzzled, Sakura nodded. "How did you know?"

Naruto shrugged. "Eh. She's a friend of Ayame-nechan. Her kid is cute—almost as cute as Mirai-chan!"

Sakura laughed. "No one is cuter than Mirai-chan!"

Grinning again, Naruto glanced up at the Tower. "Not yet."

Sakura blinked at him, thinking maybe he meant—"Is Hinata pregnant?"

Naruto chocked on his own saliva and Sakura snorted. "No! I mean—hopefully one day—I wouldn't mind it if—we do DO—" She watched as he failed his arms about, embarrassed. Imbecile.

"Alright, Naruto. I get it." Sakura peeked around Naruto. "Where is Hinata anyway?"

"Something about helping with Ayame-chan's kimono."

Sakura fangirled. "What an honor!"

"Is it? Aren't they just gonna help her when she needs to poop or something?"

"Naruto!" She tried to whack him but he dodged and laughed. She grinned when he couldn't dodge the second time.

And then the crowd around them began to gasp in delight. Their Daishukujo walked out to meet her husband on the roof and she was breathtaking. She looked like a queen with the jade kanzashi on her head. With her, holding the long crescent tail of her kimono, were Hinata, Kurenai-sensei and Haruhi-san.

Putting the kage hat on, Kakashi took Ayame-san's hand in his. The couple gazed at one another, as if summoning resolution together, and many in the crowd cooed.

Tsunade stepped forward and used chakra to elevate her voice. "I give you Konohagakure's new Daishukujo!"


The reception was held in a grand white tent near Yumi's part of town. The ceiling was decorated in white and red sweeps of fabric with lights above them, illuminating the tent in a romantic, soft tint. The bride and groom took their seats at the head of the hall, before them a long, marble like aisle led to a dance floor. On either side of the aisle were multiple tables dressed in white with large rose center pieces. Daimyos and their ladies remained in their designated seats, speaking behind their fans to one another while the Ichiraku family and invited guests mingled happily, some choosing to dance with their little ones to the soft serenade of music produced by stringed instruments.

Ayame smiled, watching from afar as her nephews and little cousins tried to out dance one another to gentle music. Mirai and Soota-chin were the only toddlers at the wedding, the first being the only little girl. The two adored one another, much to the delight of Kurenai-san and Haruhi, who squatted behind them, clapping at the offbeat rhythm the toddles danced to.

Her eyes roamed the large expanse of the tent and spotted her father speaking with the Ichiraku chefs, drinking sake and clasping each other on the shoulders in great camaraderie. Ayame felt her sight water slightly at seeing her father so happy while a great sense of guilt and shame swirled in her stomach. She wanted to enjoy tonight, and a bit of her did, but she felt as if she was deceiving everyone, especially her father.

She felt familiar fingers cover her own, warming them. She glanced at Kakashi, who was smiling with his eyes at the mingling guests. His dark gaze slowly moved towards her and winked. She smiled shyly. He really was great at keeping a cool head. Not only that, he always tried to cheer her up when her feelings caught the best of her.

The Mizukage, arm and arm with a blue haired man, stepped towards them, holding an entire bottle of sake. She held it towards them, grinning. The powerful kunoichi was one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen, Ayame felt.

"To love!" the Mizukage cried. Despite her drinking, the woman did not sound or look inebriated but excited to be there. The room focused their attention to the head of the tent and many adults reached for their glasses, cheering at the Mizukage's toast.

"To love!" many cried in response and Ayame's heart raced. Love. She glanced at Kakashi. Would he ever love her?

"Hokage-sama," the Mizukage spoke again, admiration in her eyes. "What a gift it is to be alive and know love. Tell us of when she first ensnared your mind and soul!" The man at her arm with the eyepatch looked uneasy.

Ayame held her breath. All eyes were on them, expectant smiles wide. The music softened even more so everyone could hear the response clearly. She looked at Kakashi and he seemed placid, as if recalling the memory of when they fell in love.

But there was no such memory. No moment in time existed when they two loved one another, when he knew he'd been ensnared. All there had ever been were prolonged glances and caresses she once upon a time initiated. He had never responded to her until Naruto's wedding—and it had been quite the response! Now they were there, playing pretend in front of an audience that only wanted the best for Konohagakure's Hokage.

Ohh, she did not like this part especially.

"Well," Kakashi said, staring off into an invisible memory. She wondered what nonsense he would come up with. She hoped no one asked her because she was not like him. She was not good on her feet. He rubbed his chin over his mask.

"Hmm." He lightly slammed a fist into his palm, as if he'd just remembered exactly when. "During Akatsuki's attack!" he announced and then nodded to himself. "Yes. I had been buried in rubble after confronting Pein. I feigned death to preserve crucial intel." Kakashi considered Ayame, thoughtful. "Ayame emerged from one of the fallen buildings. She had been seeking refuge with other civilians. Despite many calling after her, she ran to me and tried to dig me out." Kakashi paused, pensive.

It wasn't nonsense. It was true. She had watched from a shelter with many others as Pein flung a needle into his forehead and left him for dead. She had felt such dread, thinking Naruto's beloved sensei was murdered and she had watched it all happen without lifting a finger.

"She thought I was dead," Kakashi continued and everyone, including her, was enraptured. "She was praying very loudly until I decided it was time to speak up and she screamed." The crowd laughed as Ayame felt her cheeks warm. She had been surprised at that time, sincerely thinking he had perished.

"One of Pein's forms came and threatened Akimichi Choji so he would not disclose the intel I had managed to gather." Kakashi added a chuckle to his well narrated story. "Ayame saw him preparing an attack and she began to throw rocks at him.

"It was reckless but she was adamant in helping." He paused again as if a particular part of the story took more memory power. "She has very poor aim."

Ayame wiped at incessant tears, unable to resist from laughing alongside their guests, emotional and surprised at Kakashi's depiction of that day. She also silently cried because she remembered exactly what happened after she failed to stop Pein from firing the projectile at Choji.

Kakashi exhaled and leaned back in his seat. "I stepped in and exhausted the last of my chakra."

A hush fell over the tent and Ayame was not keeping it together—blasted hormones. He had died right in front of her. His head had titled awkwardly to the side and she tried to hold his chin up, screaming for help. No one came for a long time as Choji was able to run away, safe and sound with the intel.

Kakashi shrugged. "After I woke, she was there. I guess I was a little awed." He squeezed her fingers fondly. Although Ayame did not know what to make of his version of events, her heart felt so full.

"The bride is moved to tears!" the Mizukage cried, tears of her own at her eyes.

"To love!"

"To peace!"

The audience cheered and whooped.

Guests began to form a line in front of them, holding wrapped boxes and gift bags. The first person in line would bow deeply and leave a gift at their feet. Soon they were surrounded. Some guests took a minute to make small talk, generally with Kakashi. Many guests were there because of political reasons so obviously they were acquainted with him. And then there were all his friends and students. Even her large family seemed small compared to the amount of people that knew Kakashi. Adding in her coworkers still did not amount to half of those acquainted with the Hokage.

All the while, Ayame continued to sneak glances at Kakashi as people congratulated them with gifts and good will.

Was what he said true? Had he really been awed by her that day? She uselessly waited around, crying and holding his head up until Choji returned with others. They helped her dig him out and then bodies that were supposed to be dead started waking up all around them, healthier than those who were alive. Even Ayame had been battered and bruised when Kakashi startled from death without a single injury.

What a day that had been.

Had he liked her then, on that day? But he never said or did anything to insinuate such a thing. Her crush on him had started by a fickle moment when he had complimented her. He seemed so sincere then and had looked so handsome she couldn't help herself. He was the Hokage after all and she had a little epiphany that his presence never failed to bring her joy. She had never noticed it until he had looked her in the eye and told her how good of a person she was. He'd been wearing the whole kage get up too, strolling along the street that day, stopping for lunch with Naruto.

The affair had altered and even perverted her affections for him but it had not taken Kakashi long to remind her of why she liked him. He was a good man that loved his students and the village. He wore the Will of Fire on his sleeve and now here he was saying he had taken a romantic interest in her years before they had a meaningless affair?

But it wasn't as meaningless as he had let her believe—it was not a mistake deriving from misplaced temptation and sake. For the love of heaven, he had offered her compensation to dismiss the whole affair on the night of the festival. To think he may have loved—

"Are you alright?" Kakashi leaned close, gaze searching. What did the look he was giving her mean? His entire story just reminded her of how little they knew each other.

"I'm just—a little tired." She couldn't help but lean close too and paid close attention to how his eyes widened slightly at the proximity. Had he really liked her for so long? How had she missed it? If she took that thought and ran with it, then maybe it …made sense.

He was so good to her. But he was also good to everyone so that was not much evidence to back up what he had said earlier. Ayame wondered if it was true or if Kakashi had once more used truths from their long acquaintanceship to help convince everyone of their present relationship.

Kakashi glanced towards her hidden belly and quickly back up. He was starting to do that a lot. "I'll sneak us out of here soon." She could see him smirk through the mask. "They'll think we've started the honeymoon."

Ayame allowed a smile. "Thank you." My God, her throat was incredibly dry and it had nothing to do with thirst.

Kakashi nodded and turned his attention back to a bowing guest.

Her heart beat incredibly fast. Could it be possible Kakashi loved her all this time and she hadn't noticed? Although he was a great man, she learned over the last couple of months that he was also evasive when it came to private matters. He was not infallible. He was stubborn and when irritated he could be patronizing. But he had a great sense of humor and a kind heart. He was an honorable man to take on the title of kage even though he never sought it.

On the outside, she could easily assume he took on big responsibilities because it was his duty, but the truth was that he said yes to those opportunities because he cared. He had said yes to team seven not because it was his duty as an elite jonin but because he cared. He said yes to the kage title because he loved the village, and although it was not what he wanted, he did it because his home needed him. And then there was her. He didn't have to search her out after the affair but he had—awkwardly yes, but he had been the one to find her and talk. Because he…cared. About her. She knew that now. And when she had come crying to him, pregnant and afraid, he decided to marry her. He cared about the little extra flare of chakra for reasons that stretched outside of sake and lust.

He had called it a child the first day she told him about it. She had not thought of its conception well enough to think of it as a child until he brought it up.

Ayame was starting to understand why he had been upset after she had not spoken candidly on the night of the festival. If he had loved her, if he had always wanted her, then having been ignored must have hurt him like Yuu hurt her all those years ago.

"Hey, Aya-chan."

Ayame blinked up to see her sister stand with her husband, Nagaoka. Her eyes watered and she stood, racing thoughts put aside for now. "Yumi-nechan!"

Yumi jumped as Ayame nearly stumbled down the steps, over a few gifts and into her arms.

"I'm so glad you could make it." Ayame didn't care if her sister felt stiff under her embrace, she was just glad she came. Their last encounter had been awful.

Yumi patted her back. "Aya-chan, everyone is looking."

"Let them look. I'm so happy."

Yumi's patting paused and then she slowly wrapped her arms around her little sister. Ayame laughed happily.


Kakashi watched the exchange between sisters. He was glad Seito Yumi came. Ayame was always so hesitant to speak about her sister and Kakashi could understand why. She was not a bad person, but she was a prickly sister. Although she made an effort today, the kind of jealousy she carried did not disappear or manifest overnight.

After the greetings and congratulatory gifts, Kakashi stood and offered Ayame a hand. "Let's take a walk."

Ayame looked to see that the line of guests had diminished and everyone was happily mingling with one another or eating again. Seeing the window of opportunity, she scratched at where her jade headpiece met her scalp. It clinked prettily on her head.

"Okay…but I have to use the bathroom…"

"Oh, alright." It was her fifth bathroom break but Kakashi thought it best not to comment.

Kakashi waited outside the bathroom as Kurenai, Hinata and Haruhi-san assisted his wife undue her many layers of clothing. In the meantime, Mirai and Soota-chin stared up at him in awe.

His eyes crinkled down at them. "Hello there."

"Is you really O-kag-sama?" Soota-chin narrowed his gaze, little arms crossed.

Mirai scrunched her face at the boy. "They say it all day. 'O-kay-sama, O-kay-sama.' He is!"

Soota-chin copied her expression and pointed to his electric blonde head. "His hair is differ-aunt." Then there were two chubby faces scrutinizing up at Kakashi again, examining his volume-less hair. It had been persistently brushed that morning to the point of abuse.

Kakashi interjected professionally. "I think you have me confused with someone else. I'm the Hokage not the O-kag or the O-kay."

"Das what I say, mister silly man," Soota-chin glared. The boy was certainly a character and had the most peculiar shade of blonde hair Kakashi had ever seen. It hovered between white and blonde but was not either.

After a few minutes of having a staring contest with a pair of toddlers, with intellect telling of a future as shinobi, Kakashi figured it was time to act his age.

"So do you two like puppies?"


When Ayame stepped out of the restroom with the toddlers' mothers and Hinata, the dog summons became adamant in introducing themselves with the utmost curtesy to the new Daishukujo. She was surrounded by puppies! (Albeit they were not pups at all but to her all dogs were adorable and worthy to always be called puppies!)

Ayame held Pakkun's paw, an adorable little pug whose voice was deeper than Otousan's.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said. And then, unable able to restrain herself any longer, she picked him up and hugged him. "Oh my gosh you're so cute! You smell so good."

"Oh I like her, Kakashi," Pakkun stated, voice serious but tail wagging.

The other canines happily barked for their turn and she happily obliged. She settled for hugging the neck of the bigger summons. They didn't seem to mind as their tails wagged incessantly meanwhile the toddlers tried to climb Buru's back. Their mothers decided it was time to take them back to the dance floor. Hinata followed them, leaving the newlyweds alone with the summons.

Ayame continued to make friends with the ninken in the hallway. Kakashi contently stood to the side. She yelped when the one called Biscuit dug his nose into her lower abdomen precisely when the Tsuchikage made his way into the side hall.

"You smell like Kakashi here."

Kakashi chocked on his saliva and smoke nearly came out of Ayame's ears. Of all the ways Biscuit could have worded that—he chose that?! Kakashi quickly dismissed all the ninken.

The Tsuchikage raised a gray brow. "Couldn't wait until tonight, eh?"

Albeit embarrassed, Ayame was curious. Did she have a certain scent now that she was pregnant? She blushed harder. Did the baby truly smell like Kakashi? That was kind of... cool. Chakra allowed for such incredible experiences.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. "Oh you've caught us, Tsuchikage. Please keep this between us." The Tsuchikage was not wrong, only in timing.

"Doesn't matter much now that you're both married." Glancing at Ayame once more, the old man's eyes filled with recognition. "I remember this young woman. She was the one who interrupted our meeting."

"That's right," Kakashi recalled, ignoring Ayame's glare.

"Very nice!" The old man chuckled. "If I may, I wanted to speak with you about something, Rokudaime Hokage."

Both men looked at Ayame as if asking for permission. She raised her hands up in negation of her presence. "Please! Go ahead." She did not plan to ever get in the way of his duties as Hokage, not even on their wedding day. She smiled kindly towards Kakashi. "I will wait here for you."

He nodded and the two men walked further down the hall which led to the exit of the tent.

Haruhi suddenly appeared back in the hall with Soota-chin exclaiming he was "not going to make it!" Ayame laughed and followed the younger woman into the bathroom.

After the crisis was over, and Soota-chin indeed made it, Haruhi held the boy up to the sink so he could wash his hands. Ayame curiously watched how Haruhi, in all her youth and muteness, was a capable mother. Despite whatever circumstances made her a mother at such a young age, it did not deter her from being adept at it. Ayame could not imagine what atrocities Raiden had saved her from. She imagined a much younger Haruhi, barely a teenager and pregnant. At some point in time, Raiden came and took her away from whomever and whatever held her against her will.

Ayame blinked back tears but the action only made them fall faster, thinking about Raiden and where he could even be. She really wished her friend was there. As it dawned on her that there was much more to Raiden's past than he ever let on, Ayame promised herself that when he came back, she would be a better friend to him.

Hearing her sniffles, Haruhi glanced over. She quickly carried Soota-chin to the door and signed for him to find Kurenai-san and play with Mirai. Ayame only knew this because of the familiar name signs Haruhi had created in reference to Mirai and her mother.

When Soota-chin scurried away, Haruhi went over to Ayame and hugged her.

Their mutual friendship and worry for Raiden had easily made the young women very close and dependent of one another's presence. Kakashi had even commented on the quick friendship, glad for it. Ayame hugged Haruhi tighter. She had to remember to also thank Raiden when he returned—for introducing her to her first, real best friend.


In a corner of a dimly lit traditional wooden room, Kakashi created a makeshift futon with only a pillow and blanket. He wore a white yukata with the sleeves rolled up and no mask. He had been waiting for Ayame, kneeling on the marital futon when the inn's attendant formally slid open the shoji door. Ayame had stepped in, similarly dressed, eyes lowered and cheeks pink. Kakashi had calmly got up the moment they were alone and began to make a separate sleeping area for himself.

Ayame wanted to say they could trade places but she knew he would not allow it. But she wouldn't dare suggest they share the futon.

"It's fine." He reassured her with a smile. He probably saw her concern. Ayame knew she wasn't like him or others when it came to hiding her emotions.

"Won't you get sick?" It was early spring, but it still got chilly at night.

His gentle smile made her heart flutter. It was that look. The one she was starting to associate him with. The way he simply gazed at her, as if there was a secret only he knew the moment their eyes met. It was as if his gaze took its time caressing each and every one of her ribs, one by one, bone by bone. Her heart warmed to a degree that was almost painful. What was this feeling?

"I'll be fine, Ayame. Thank you."

She nodded, feeling exceptionally shy. She knew shinobi could manifest chakra to keep them cool or warm, depending on the weather. It was silly to ask if he'd get sick or not. She'd seen ninjas running around in shorts during blizzards plenty of times—she supposed she was just worried.

He had admitted his feelings for her and she was so afraid to bring it up.


Ayame turned a pretty pink and promptly ducked under the futon covers. He withheld his laughter. He suddenly remembered something. "What will you call me?"

"Don't I have to call you 'Hokage-sama'?" Her words came out ruffled.

"Not necessarily." He laid down, elbow supporting his head. She mumbled something and he smiled again. Why couldn't he stop smiling? "What was that?"

"I can't just start calling you 'Kakashi.' I'm not accustomed to it."

"Why not Kakashi-sensei? You used to call me that." She called him that still, unbeknownst.

She poked her head out, nose still covered. "They'll think we're perverts."

He laughed. "The Tsuchikage won't be alone then."

Ayame pressed her face to the pillow and laughed through a yawn. "That was so traumatizing!"

Kakashi agreed. The seasoned kage had no filter. "Call me anata."

She threw a pillow at him and missed by several feet. He tossed it back in a strategic fling so she would easily catch it. She didn't.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"What—what would you like to call me?" he tried to talk over his laughter and he could tell she was trying to reign hers in.

Ayame seemed to really consider the question as she stared up at the ceiling, arms crossed. She looked very beautiful. Her long hair was curled and sprawled all around her. The dark color stood out amongst the whiteness of the futon and her creamy skin. Her long, dark lashes fluttered—she was tired. Today had been exhausting. A kage wedding seemed more for the village than the couple.

Her cheeks were flushed when she turned to him. "How about…'Kakashi-san'?"

"I would like that." His voice deepened. Using at least his name was enough for him.

She looked sleepily at him, with a mildness he was beginning to anticipate. "You're very handsome when you smile."

"Thank you," he said but he knew she was already asleep.


I knew I loved you then—
But you'd never know,
'Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go.

I know I needed you—
But I never showed.
I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old

-James Arthur, 'Say You Won't Let Go'