I do not own Naruto.
Chapter 18
Ayame walked behind her husband. She stared at the expanse of his shoulders. His hands were buried in his pockets and his posture was relaxed. They were taking a different way, with less people on the streets. That meant it'd take twice as long to get home. Sometimes she preferred this route when she wanted to avoid the crowds.
There were a lot of step-in-allies on this side of the district and some steps were narrower than others. Kakashi quietly offered his hand during such times, hovering near until they completely descended. Then it was back to the silence and no touching.
She had just experienced one of the most uncomfortable encounters of her life—and she was no stranger to awkwardness.
Yuu had solemnly apologized to both of them and then referred to her as 'Daishukujo-sama' in a hasty departure. Ayame stared after him mostly confused and feeling like she was missing something. Kakashi's smile had left his eyes and he became sullen as if all of Jiraiya's literature had disappeared from the world. Then he sort of walked off and she followed him.
"Should we grab takeout?" Kakashi's side profile turned slightly, referring to her.
"Oh—um—I prepped ingredients for miso soup with eggplant and gobo this morning…but we can stop somewhere if you don't want to eat that."
Kakashi grabbed her hand as another set of stairs came into view. "No, that's good."
"Alright," she mumbled, trying not to let her feelings get hurt when he released her hand the moment her foot came off the last step. She willed her tears to stay in her sockets. The pregnancy turned her into the biggest crybaby in the village.
He was clearly upset with her. But why? It couldn't have been because of Yuu's informality. Kakashi didn't care about such things, especially when it came to long acquaintances. But maybe he did for those he didn't know. She was so confused! Aoi and old man Otori did address her formally now, even if there was a playful glint in their eyes.
"Anata," she started softly, unsure. Her pink nails reached out to hold the end of his flak jacket.
"Not right now. After dinner." His voice was neutral, but he continued to walk without looking at her. She kept a tight grip on him though.
Kakashi had absolutely no qualms about Ayame not being some sort of once in a generation genius or a quick on her feet strategist. And it was no secret that he cared little about her civilian status. What she lacked in other worldly cleverness, she more than made up for in heart and fun company.
But tonight, perhaps, he wished that she would pick up on things a little faster.
To her credit, he could tell she was hard at work putting the pieces together. Throughout a hushed dinner, she had made all sorts of faces at her bowl of eggplant miso. She snuck glances at him and her eyes teared up about twice. She was obviously struggling very much to not speak, like he requested. At one point she just glared at him.
After any dinner spent together, they would normally sit in one of the living rooms. He would read and she would knit. Other times, they would cuddle and talk about their day, kissing and familiarizing themselves with each other's minds and body.
Today, Kakashi read upstairs while she used their bathroom. He relaxed his neck against the curve of the plushy white sofa's headrest. The Hokage stared at the smooth, wooden ceiling, reading material long discarded. He could hear Ayame's indiscreet footsteps pad up the carpeted stairs.
She called to him and a sound tumbled from his chest in polite acknowledgement.
She sat by his side and a whirl of cherry almond and soap filled his senses. He inhaled deeper, shutting his eyes in indulgence. Biscuit was right. There, underneath the detailed aroma that was his wife, sat a solid scent that was like his own.
She shifted beside him. "Let's get you comfortable."
He sighed when he felt her unclip the sides of his flak jacket. She peeled his gloves off and each time let her touch linger before she made to remove his headband. The pads of her fingers peppered against the skin above his mask. His eyes opened when she managed to jumble it under his chin.
Her face hovered above his, expression agog. If she was trying to seem serious, wifely in demeanor, ready for a stern conversation with a miffed husband, then she was failing. Her brow was furrowed in concentration and her lips were pursed; florid cheeks blown outwards. Kakashi fought the urge to pinch them.
Ayame lowered herself to the carpet and gingerly removed his socks. After smoothing her palms over the tops of his bare feet, she used his knees to get back up. She set his articles aside with his book and then sat with her hands against her thighs, expectant.
Kakashi's eyes narrowed. Did she have to wear such a short nightdress? It was one of the gifts from Tsunade. It was obviously made for pregnant, growing women who wanted to sleep prettily for their partners. It's pitiful length and neckline were telling. The blue satin material gleamed against the lamp's light. Her hair fell in damp waves all around her. Not much fit nowadays, she cried the other night.
He wondered when he'd lost his backbone when it came to this woman. She fogged his mind to the point of abuse. Never had he known such vulnerability.
After her every endearing quirk, he had to remind himself he was upset. He was sure a simple gesture like breathing wasn't an apology nor did it rectify her slip in miscommunication. The simple fact of her existing and adorably staring didn't make it all better. Or it shouldn't.
He rolled his head to gaze at the ceiling again. "You disarm me."
"I—I just want you to feel comfortable."
"That's not what I meant."
He glanced her way to see her crimson, pretty face staring at her knees. "O-okay." And then softer, she said, "sorry."
Her knuckles tightened to fists and the determined expression returned. He watched as her lips opened and closed a couple of times before finally bringing up the conversation he'd postponed. Her chin tilted down and her big eyes were glued to his every move, fiery and ready for anything.
"'Aya-chan' is a childhood name."
He pulled his loosened flak jacket over his head. "I know."
All her long-term acquaintances used the nickname except Teuchi and Kakashi, the latter of whom had been barred from calling her something similar early on in their engagement. She wanted him to see her as a woman and not a child. The intent behind her directive had been pointless because Kakashi had stopped seeing her as a child the moment he'd hallucinated her to be a mystical spirit.
Her hands leaned her on belly and she closed her eyes, clearly trying to control her emotions. "Then why, Kakashi-san? Why would you make that so awkward? I have to see Yuu-kun almost every day." She just stared at him, obviously expecting an explanation.
"Every day," he repeated grimly and slowly, recognition finally filled his wife's eyes. She was stunned.
"That's—I would never—Kakashi-san! He's volunteering with his wife." She fumbled over her words and he knew she was anxious and unsure of how to proceed to assuage his jealousy.
"You find nothing wrong with spending time with Menrui?"
"Of course not. How can you ask that!" she cried, her arms shooting out in a show of shock. She understood what he was insinuating. She wasn't that dull. "He is helping me—I'm trying to find people to help before the baby comes."
"I know." His tone somewhat rose in irritation. Never before had he used such a tone, but it wasn't exactly that. Concern enveloped her. "You never mentioned his volunteering."
"Is that wrong?" She didn't really mention any of the volunteers except maybe Haruhi since the two women were so close. Ayame tried to reason. "Based on what you're saying, did you find it wrong seeing Tsunami-san again? Or accepting a dinner to introduce me to her family?"
Kakashi was nonplused. "That's not the same."
Now she was offended. During the honeymoon, while helping Tsunami in the kitchen, Ayame was amazed to discover that the older woman previously had a sort of liaison with the Copy Ninja. The topic was brought up by accident but remained civil and adult-like.
Tsunami was widowed for a second time, and while she housed team seven during a mission, she nursed Kakashi back to health and one thing led to the other. Tsunami was mortified the topic came up, but Ayame recognized that the involvement occurred before either Kakashi or Ayame had been interested in each other. Way before.
Just like Ayame's involvement with Yuu. Hand holding was infantile in comparison to whatever Kakashi and Tsunami had done.
"How is it not the same?" she demanded. She never kissed anyone before Kakashi! He was the one with a body count that had nothing to do with killing.
"You loved him."
Ayame stood up. Without blinking, she stepped towards him boldly and declared without shame, "Yes, I loved him." Every word seemed to wound Kakashi, his expression darkening more and more. But he had to hear this. As the next part was the hardest, her voice fluctuated, but only in the beginning before it evened out again. "I convinced myself he loved me too. But he didn't. We were only friends and when another girl came around, that was that. He never acknowledged my love even when I tried to tell him how I felt."
"Ayame, stop." Kakashi got up too, forcing her to take a step back.
They had discussed few details about who Menrui Yuu had been to her but now was as good a time as any. She pressed, emotion under control. "I kept hoping he would show up at my door and beg for forgiveness. He never came. And then he got married."
Kakashi turned away then. He stood with his back towards her, head hung and hands on his hips. She wished she could see his face.
"I won't lie to you," she said. "I thought I'd never be happy again. But time passed and I got over it. And," she finished tenderly so he would get it through his brain, "I fell in love with you."
He was quiet for a long time, still facing away. She stepped forward and intended to hug him. She knew he was finding parallels with the beginning of their own relationship. Kakashi had failed to acknowledge her love for him, and even his own for many years. As she had learned these past six months, Kakashi was prone to bouts of self-deprecation.
"In the Infinite Tsukuyomi, who was Menrui Yuu to you?"
Or maybe he was just really, really jealous.
Ayame's jaw fell open. How could he phrase a question in a manner that no matter how she answered, he would be hurt? Had he always been this jealous?
She knew that answer. Yes, if she thought about it. He'd been especially harsh with Raiden in the beginning, and he'd been near madness when Yugao scantily dressed her the first week of her honeymoon. Now that she thought about it, he somewhat admitted an aversion to 'Aya-chan.' She had enjoyed some of his odd manners, finding them endearing, but she didn't like this. Even Ayame knew everyone had their limit.
"What should I do?" she asked. She'd never seen him like this. She placed her hands on the back of his navy shirt.
She knew what it was to be so absurdly jealous it felt like you would lose your mind. She was suddenly grateful that Kakashi never put her in a situation where she felt such a thing. By nature, she wasn't prone to jealousy anyway. It had been Yuu's interest in Tomoe back then that had made her burn with envy. It was an extreme case.
"Don't let him touch you."
She thought of when she hugged Yuu today. She only meant it to be friendly—wait. When she stepped away, he had placed a hand atop her head like when they were younger. She hadn't had time to process how inappropriate that had been because Kakashi had instantly showed up, calling to her, encircling her every sense and thought as he usually did.
"Okay. What else?"
Kakashi was silent for some time and she slowly wrapped her arms around his waist. She pressed her cheek between his shoulders. He smelled so good. Like a new book and their detergent and a musky tinge that was so him after a long day of work.
He said, "I'm not sure, Ayame." His arms tensed at his sides. Ayame worried her lip and stared at the back of his head. "Just… don't leave me."
'Please don't leave me.' Those had once been her words.
"I can handle anything you throw at me!" She said grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. He looked over his shoulder with wide eyes. "And I will never leave you, you idiot!"
The fact that he thought she would made her so angry she wanted to hit him. But this time he was questioning his worth. He was asking if he was enough. She would be strong when he couldn't. Granted, she probably shouldn't have called him an 'idiot.' She blamed most of her outbursts on the baby these days.
But what a silly man. Didn't he know? To Ayame, Kakashi was the highest tier of worthiness that she used to measure the quality of being good.
No woman would dare to leave a man like that.
Kakashi considered his wife's declaration (and insult). Case in point, Ayame had once loved another man. It had been unrequited, and she had suffered. But it held no stronghold over her thanks to time and, evidently, Kakashi.
Menrui Yuu likely regretted that Ayame was no longer a part of his life and slithered his way back. Practically, there was nothing wrong with volunteering his expertise. Objectively, it was appreciated. But the way he had run his fingers through Ayame's hair was conspicuous.
Whether it was premeditated, or a moment of weakness for the baker, Kakashi narrowly restrained himself from breaking the civilian's fingers. A civilian who he, the Hokage, had sworn to protect.
Ayame was a lot of good and warm things, but she was often naïve, especially when it came to the attentions of men. Men, weak men, could spend a night with a woman, no questions asked and then leave, on to the next. Better men (perhaps not by much higher virtue) preferred to meander from afar and enjoy the personalities of women they wished were theirs. They won't touch. They won't hint.
Friendship was a tactic frequently used in espionage.
Kakashi had tried meandering on the outskirts, until he couldn't.
Raiden had the decency to recognize Ayame's value as solely family. So he didn't touch. And he didn't hint. He respected and, Kakashi knew, cherished his Ichiraku ties. If Ayame's friendly attachment was anything to go by, Raiden's brotherly discipline towards her person deserved a standing ovation by meandering men everywhere.
Menrui Yuu was just a damned fool.
Never in all his days would Kakashi have thought he'd be comparing himself to other men for love of a woman.
"I believe you." Kakashi turned around and embraced his wife properly.
"You better," she mumbled against his shirt. He smiled as she did her usual and scented him.
Despite Ayame's reaffirming statement, Menrui would forever be a sort of catalyst in their lives. The man grew up with her and had been deeply integrated throughout her adolescent and academic life. It would not be a stretch to correlate Menrui's rejection and Ayame's initial coldness to Kakashi. Conditioned to be humiliated, Ayame avoided confrontation. She believed Kakashi would ultimately be no different than the clown who'd jilted her.
Their rocky beginning wouldn't have been so damningly strenuous if Menrui hadn't accustomed Ayame to believe she wasn't worthy of a man's love or worth the fight.
"Kakashi-san, I'm not going anywhere." Ayame insisted, holding him tight, assuring him she would never abandon him. That she loved him. She had tried to leave him twice before their marriage, after all. These reminders were nice.
Kakashi ran his fingers through her damp hair.
"Anata," she said his newest moniker sensually, her hands sliding down his sides, over his pelvic bones to the tops to his thighs and then back up. It was as if a scolding spill of sake poured from his solar plexus to his lap. "I need you."
"You have me." His eyes darkened as they watched her walk into the room with her old bed.
"Lie down with me?" The walls and distance muffled her words, but he heard her loud and clear.
He took a step forward and then paused. "Let me shower quickly."
Given he'd taken many a quick nature dips, from undercover missions to strenuous life and death situations, Kakashi couldn't deny the impressive speed he'd accomplished this shower. He made sure to keep the water hot.
When he entered the room in a pair of undershorts, Ayame lay on her side above the covers, eyes closed as she hugged a pillow to her chest. The smile on her face hinted she was awake, trying not to laugh. He smirked too as he climbed onto the small bed.
She was more receptive to his touches and even sought them out, asking questions about what he did and if he was 'sure' he wanted to put his mouth on her 'privates.' If he were less depraved, he would've had the strength to shelter such purity but as his mind was essentially a garbage dump of racy literature, Kakashi found her inexperience positively arousing and made it his personal mission to ruin her.
He lay behind her. When she didn't move, he carefully wound his arm under her belly and pulled her hips back into his, nestling her bottom in its usual place against his lower abdomen.
He touched his forehead atop her head when she wiggled down into his groin. She snickered at her own antics, knowing what she did. His lips parted in a silent grunt as he unabashedly pressed against the advance with lingering force.
"You've gotten quite bold," he mumbled.
She reached behind and touched his face. Her gaze was contrite. "Maybe not bold enough."
"As long as it takes." He nudged his nose unto her turned cheek. Their recent dalliances were satiating enough.
"It's—I mean I'm—I want!"
Kakashi measured her expression. Gauging, his hand glided down her hip to her inner thigh. His fingers dipped beneath the nightie and slid up, bunching the silky material on his forearm. Kakashi carefully watched Ayame's lashes flutter close and her lips separate at the intimate touch. Her brows furrowed as she released a sweet moan.
His own breathing deepened. "I'll be gentle."
"Y-yes."
The man adjusted himself behind his wife. This position was all he could think of to keep her comfortable. Pausing a moment, he grabbed a pillow and placed it between Ayame's protruding belly and the mattress.
His hand returned to her, pulling her underwear aside. He savored in her mewling and the soft encouragements to his touch. He reached for his waistband then, both more than ready.
"Ka— Anata."
Kakashi kissed the shell of her ear and her neck and her parted lips. How taut, how blistering, how delicious it was to submerge so fully within the love of a spouse.
Her thigh quivered in his palm. "Don't strain yourself. I'll hold your leg."
Ayame held her pillow against her blushing countenance. Kakashi was not much better, once again burying his own features in her thick mane.
Ayame smiled as Kakashi caressed her bottom lovingly.
"Whoa," she said, out of breath. His nose nuzzled between her shoulders.
"Hm." He was panting but fairing much better than her, all things considered. "Thank you, Ayame." She only giggled at his gratitude.
He proposed to wash up and she didn't argue. Everything felt wet and sticky. After another quick shower, they retreated downstairs to cuddle on their marital bed. The mattress upstairs was currently uninhabitable.
Ayame hummed happily, always the small spoon. Kakashi liked this position, and now with their consummation, it had garnered more favor.
Her hand rested on top of his as he caressed her belly, lingering in spots where his daughter's limbs poked. She smiled when he kissed the top of her head, unprompted, in his own silent musings. He was just so sweet and loved her so much.
With that in mind, she said, "I will tell Yuu-san we don't need his services." She added the honorific to show formality and distance between her estranged childhood friend. Kakashi didn't say anything as he continued to massage her abdomen. Ayame felt a little nervous again.
And then he kissed her behind the ear. "It's fine, Ayame. I trust you. The clinic could use the help now more than ever."
She turned to face him, wowed at his virtuous reply. Kakashi was doing the objective thing. The life of a Hokage was a selfless one, indeed.
"I am so glad you're mine," she said, awed. She caressed his cheek. Was this righteous man even real?
Kakashi smirked, evidently smug at the compliment. His hand lowered to the inside of her thigh. "I'll be yours anytime."
Ayame gasped. Again? Was that normal—well their first time, they'd done way more—but she was pregnant now, and they both had already showered twice—her thoughts melted away when he kissed her.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
that you can't help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.
Roy Croft, Stanza III of 'Love'
