Of Things You Can't Control

Chapter 2

Reactions of body and mind

It took her a whole week to realize that Kakashi was a weird man, alright. He was always wearing his mask. Always! Even when he went to bed (well, at least she assumed he did, she'd never seen what he was doing behind the closed door of his bedroom). He might take it off when he showered, but it wasn't as if she was constantly watching him. He was the pervert, not her. Even though he hadn't done anything to prove that title except for reading his porn stories in the middle of the day. After a week, that seemed to be the most normal thing.

At least she had finally seen what was hidden under his hitai-ate. Whenever he took off his headband, his messy hair would fall over his forehead, only half covering the left side of his face that was dominated by a large scar running across his left eye, which he kept closed at all times. She had yet to find out what happened to his eye. It wasn't as if they weren't talking, but they had yet to share their more or less juicy past. He didn't talk about his, so she wasn't talking about hers.

Kakashi had also turned out to be quite the chef. Even though he was on a lot of missions, leaving her alone a lot, he had cooked her the occasional meal, always surprising her with new recipes. He was a good host. The couch wasn't as uncomfortable as it looked, the food was – as mentioned – more than edible, and the shared bathroom really wasn't a problem. He had even given her a drawer in the bathroom cabinet. How thoughtful. He also didn't complain that she took her time in the shower, taking up almost all the hot water.

Every now and then he would check on her foot, changing the bandages, carefully caressing her skin while examining her injury. Those moments had been uncomfortable at first, but by now, she was looking forward to them. He had nice hands, even though calloused and kind of rough. And his touch was gentle and innocent. There was no other emotion behind his actions, not on his part at least. She, however, couldn't help blushing whenever he held her foot in his hands. It was weird.

Weird being the word of the month by now.

As weird as everything was, they were still nothing more than unusual roommates. Even though she still felt like a rude visitor, a squatter, some sort of parasite that lived off of its host's good intentions. She was a weird house guest alright. But she had accepted his offer. And she was willing to use it – at least until her foot had properly healed.

It was on a Friday night, as the weirdness intensified.

Katsumi was sitting on the couch, her bandaged foot lying on a pillow, the other leg pulled up to her chest, an orange book in her lap – having already cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom, when the door opened with a quiet squeak. She didn't look up from the book she was reading. It wasn't as if she didn't know who was entering the apartment. Seven days had passed, seven days that went past in almost the same manner.

"Yo, I'm back," she heard him say in that cheery-yet-lazy voice of his.

"Hey," she replied, flipping over a page of her book. She had copied his voice pattern by now. It wasn't that surprising, considering she had only heard his voice for a week straight.

"How was your day?" he asked, as he walked closer. She heard him enter the kitchen area.

"Uneventful. I cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen."

"I can see that," he replied. The refrigerator was opened and closed again. "Anything else?"

"Not really," she said, turning yet another page. "Someone showed up around noon. They knocked several times, but went away, when I didn't open."

"Why didn't you open?" His voice came closer.

"I don't want to be seen…"

A soft "Hmm" echoed from the other side of the coffee table. Katsumi didn't look up. She knew he was watching her from his bedroom door. When she didn't say anything else, he disappeared for a moment. She could hear him walk around his bedroom. He was probably changing. He always did that when he came home from a mission. A few minutes later, he re-entered the living room.

She looked up finally. He was wearing his mask (of course) and a sleeveless black shirt. No hitai-ate, causing strands of his messy silver hair to fall into his forehead. Almost automatically her gaze wandered to the prominent scar. Ignoring her completely, he returned to the kitchen.

"How was your mission?" she asked politely, feeling as if she had to ask him about his day as well.

"Alright," he replied. The kettle sprang to life, almost drowning out his answer. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked once it was done.

"No, I'm not hungry."

"You should eat more," she heard him say. Katsumi sighed, turning around on the couch to see him pour boiling water into an instant ramen cup.

"And you should eat something else…"

"I'm not in the mood to cook."

"Maybe you could teach me how to cook," she suggested with a faint smile. "You know, I can do more than just clean your apartment."

He looked at her, his eye a tad too serious. "I told you, you don't have to do anything to live here. It's fine." He said live, not stay. So she was living here now… interesting.

"But maybe I want to be more helpful. Teach me."

"So you want to be the perfect little housewife?" he chuckled.

Katsumi stuck her tongue out at him. "Not that. But I want to be useful. It's been one week now…"

"And I don't mind if your stay will turn into more than that."

She watched him closely. "You are too generous."

"I know. It really is a burden," he sighed playfully.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled, before turning around on the couch again, looking at the book in her hands. "Can I ask you something?" she then muttered.

"Sure," he replied cheerfully. She could hear him sit down at the kitchen table.

"I know it's a bit late to ask this, but I'm still wondering…" She bit her lower lip. It had been bugging her ever since, yet she never felt like asking him what she wanted to ask him. It was then that she realized something.

She abruptly looked up – just to see him having already finished his dinner. He had just placed his chopsticks next to the cup, looking at her questioningly, his mask neatly in place. "What?" he asked innocently.

He had to pull down his mask to eat, right? One week and she had not yet seen him without it. And it wasn't even the first time he had eaten with her in the room. She wondered why she was realizing this just now and why she hadn't noticed it before. She blinked slowly, before looking down at the book. As if it was that important to see what was underneath that stupid mask…

"What were you wondering?" she then heard his voice from near the kitchen sink.

"Hmm? Oh, I…" Right, there was something else she was curious about. And it was of more importance than a piece of fabric. "Well…"

"Ask away, Katsumi," he said in a cheery tone, before walking around the couch to sit down in the chair opposite her.

She watched him closely. Alright then. "Well, I was wondering, why are you being so… unselfish?"

He looked at her with no expression at all. Yeah, fat chance with only one open eye and a half-hidden face. He could at least raise his eyebrows or furrow his forehead. But no, he just looked at her. "Unselfish, huh?" was all he said. Even his voice showed no emotion. He really was a pain to read.

"Yes, unselfish. You let me live here…" Ha, she said live as well! "…you give me food, you let me hog your couch, you don't seem to care that I take all the hot water and that I invade your personal space… and that I'm always around. That is what I call unselfish. And I was just wondering, why. There has to be a reason. I mean, I can imagine that you're a generous person, but nobody is that generous. There has to be something else." She looked at him intensely, hoping to catch the slightest change of expression.

Even a blind guy would have caught the smile he threw at her. She felt her cheeks redden as his smiling eye got to her. "But I am not unselfish, Katsumi," he then said quietly.

She frowned at him (once the heat had left her face). "What do you mean?"

"I can live with you hogging my couch, stealing the hot water and emptying my kitchen cabinets, hell, I don't even mind that you're reading my favorite books without asking…" She blushed again, as she realized that he had noticed her reading Icha Icha. Her fingers tightened around the orange book in her lap. "… you can call me unselfish for that. But I really am not. I do have my reasons, that's true."

She watched him with wide eyes. "Well?"

He leaned back in the chair, one arm behind his head. "I really like my apartment to be clean…"

Katsumi blinked. Was he… serious? She couldn't tell. He was still smiling at her. There was nothing else in that damn eye of his. "Um, what? You… like your apartment to be clean? So… you keep me as your… maid?"

Kakashi stood up, chuckling.

Her eyes followed him to the bathroom door. He was opening it, stretching a hand into the tiny room. "My bathroom has never been this clean," he then explained. She blinked again. He was walking towards the kitchen now, sliding a finger over the cabinets as if to test for dust. "My kitchen hasn't been scrubbed in ages." She kept watching him, speechless. He then walked around the couch, coming to a halt next to the bookshelves. "You even color-sorted my books."

Her mouth opened, but she had no idea what to say.

He walked back to her, sitting down on the coffee table. Very close to her. She stiffened slightly, staring into his eye, more than puzzled. "Katsumi," he then said in that soft voice of his. She had trouble keeping the blush down. The way he said her name… Slapping herself mentally, she cleared her throat. What was wrong with her? "I appreciate the fact," he continued, "that you decided to do all that, I really do, and that's what makes me quite a bit selfish. Yet I didn't ask you to do this and I really wish you wouldn't."

"What?" she blurted out, her voice weak. Her hands were still gripping his book. Her eyes were fixed on his face.

"I want you to go outside, Katsumi. I don't want you to re-arrange my books or scrub my bathroom floor. Really. I appreciate it, but I don't want you to do it. You shouldn't feel obliged to do so. Go outside. Meet the people of Konoha."

She flinched at his words and looked away slowly. "But…" She swallowed. "But my foot… You said I shouldn't walk around too much…"

He leaned closer, his eye creased into a smile. "I said you shouldn't run away with that. Besides, you seem to be able to move around my apartment just fine."

She didn't reply. She couldn't. She didn't want to go outside and meet the people of Konoha. It was the biggest exception that she was living with another human being to begin with. That was weird enough and so unlike her. She would never really get used to not living on her own, even though she tried her best. But to go outside into the world… she couldn't. There were too many people. And… well, she wasn't afraid to make new friends, but to meet old enemies. She blinked slowly, feeling the slightest bit of desperation creeping up.

Suddenly, his hands were holding her injured foot. She flinched so badly, she almost kicked him in the face. Her eyes were wide, as she looked at him. He grinned at that effortlessly. She could feel him lightly massaging her ankle. Her cheeks were burning.

"You might have your reasons to avoid the outside world," he then said softly, his eye on her foot. "But being a wanderer, I thought you might miss a bit of fresh air. And no, cracking a window isn't the same."

She stared at his hands and how his thumb drew light circles on the skin just above her bandages. Her heart was racing. "But… I have no idea where to go…" she whispered feebly. There was a lump in her throat and she hated herself for that.

"I could show you some nice places," he suggested lightly.

Suddenly, his kindness and the touch of his fingers were just too much. First she flinched, then she kicked out of his grip – he pulled away in surprise – and then she jumped off the couch, used her injured foot in the process, flinched again, stumbled and – even though she had tried to achieve the opposite – found herself in Kakashi's arms as he caught her before she could fall face first onto the old wooden floor. Her face was burning, her left cheek pressed against his chest for a few seconds, before he guided her back to the couch, his hands leaving her shoulders when she met the cushions.

More than embarrassed, she stared at her hands, blinking nervously.

She heard him walk away from the couch. His voice came from somewhere near the kitchen. "I know it must be the weirdest situation for you, sharing this place with someone like me. You seem to have spent too much time on your own. I… can imagine that this is quite the change for you. But I'm only suggesting that you consider taking a walk outside sometime or another. It's up to you."

"What… what do you mean "someone like you"?" she asked quietly, trying hard to suppress the feeling that had caused the little stumble-and-fall-incident. She was not someone caught up on emotions and being all cuddly and warm inside, so why was she acting so weird? Seriously, what was wrong with her?! She wiped her face and looked around, finding Kakashi leaning against the stove, his eye on her.

He chuckled lightly. "Well, I don't consider myself the perfect roommate."

She watched him silently for a moment. "How would you describe the perfect roommate, then?"

"Hmm, let's see. The perfect roommate is supposed to clean his share of the apartment, shop for groceries once in a while, and stay out of the other's business. And then there's me, relying on you to clean the place, and butting in on things that I shouldn't have so much interest in." He shrugged. "No, I'm nowhere near perfect…"

"But you do shop for groceries once in a while…" she stated, smiling faintly. He did. Even though she had only witnessed him doing so once this last week. At least he didn't let her starve.

His eye creased into a smile. "You're a kind girl," he said.

They looked at each other silently for a moment, before Kakashi pushed off the stove and walked towards the bookshelf. There, he hesitated. Katsumi watched his back, while her heart was still racing inside her chest. Stupid heart, shut up already! She cleared her throat and was about to look away, when he turned around and their eyes met once again.

She felt as if he had caught her in the act of staring at him. Yet he seemed to ignore her flaming cheeks.

"So, what do you think?" he asked cheerfully.

She blinked slowly. "What?"

"About Icha Icha," he replied, smiling. "Seeing as you are still clutching it, it must be quite entertaining."

A few seconds ticked past, before she finally realized what he was saying. Irritated, she looked down at the orange book in her hands, slowly turning it around to look at the title, as if she had only now realized what she had been reading. She sighed, before she looked up at him.

"You were right," she then said, trying to keep her calm. "It is very well written. Also it's not as porn-y as I had thought. I'd imagined it to be a lot more... graphic…"

He laughed at that. "Really? So you do have a dirty mind, huh? Imagining such things?"

Her eyes widened, a heavy blush creeping up her face. "That's… that's not what I was trying to say… I…"

Kakashi's eye smiled at her. "Don't worry," he said, winking. "I don't judge."

"No, no! You're getting the wrong idea, I was just… I wanted to see if…" Oh, for crying out loud! She exhaled loudly, as she looked down in embarrassment. She had been curious as to see whether Icha Icha really was that big a deal. It was a great piece of literature, she had to admit that, not that she would also admit to really like it. No, she was not a closet-pervert, even though Kakashi seemed to think she was.

Seriously, this was turning into the weirdest night ever! She had never blushed so many times in a row. There was something definitely wrong with her. Maybe she was sick or maybe it was because she hasn't been outside in a week. Yes, that must be it. That was why she was imagining things (not those things Kakashi thought she'd imagined!), with her heart racing and all that heat in her cheeks whenever she looked at the silver-haired man with his defined features and his muscular arms and his deep voice…

Oh dear. There it was again…

She could have slapped herself violently. Breathing deeply for at least a minute, she decided to change the topic by standing up from the couch she had been hogging for several hours now. But where to go? Kitchen? Nah, she wasn't hungry. Not even thirsty. Bathroom? Talk about awkward moments… wait, why was it awkward to go to the bathroom? Because he was still standing there, probably watching her every move… Yet she had never before been uncomfortable going to the bathroom when he was home. What was her problem, really?

Realizing she was still holding Icha Icha between her fingers, she had the faintest idea what was happening to her. She had read something like that in the very book she was carrying around. The main protagonist had met a woman who he had first cared about like a friend. Then one day, everything had changed. Just like that. (She had not quite understood why and how, really.) Every touch had become "electrifying", as Jiraiya-sama had written; the slightest meeting of skin had been causing certain reactions. And the looks they had exchanged… well, maybe Icha Icha wasn't as graphic as she had thought, but it was still very detailed in writing and quite suggestive still – it wasn't hard to imagine what was going on, really (even for her).

In this very moment she wished that there was a writer or at least a narrator inside her head, telling her exactly what to think and explaining to her what was going on. Because she had ideas, but she wasn't certain about anything. And why was that? Because she had absolutely no experience whatsoever! She had been living on her own for the last seven years. She had grown up all on her own, with no one to tell her what to do or think or how to feel. Sure she had picked up a few things, on the streets sort of; even though inexperienced, she hadn't been living under a rock. But there were still moments she wished she had someone who would answer her questions. Someone who would listen, who would be there for her…

Wow, from having a racing heart because of hormones to being lonely because she was a freaking wanderer without a family and a home… all in a flash of seconds! She sighed deeply. Seriously. Maybe taking a walk wasn't that bad an idea. Katsumi leaned down to place the orange book on the coffee table. She could still feel Kakashi's gaze on her back. Trying to ignore it, she carefully moved forwards, hobbling uneasily towards the door.

"So, review-time is over, I take it?" she heard him ask.

Review-time? Oh, right, they were talking about Icha Icha, before she had decided to bolt. "Well, it was enough talk about smutty books for one evening, anyway…" she replied without facing him. The door came into reach. There was sweat clinging to her forehead.

"Wait, now it's smutty again? What happened to well-written?" His voice grew fainter.

"Why can't it be both?" Her hand reached up to grab the door handle, when suddenly…

Someone turned the lights off. Her knees went weak, something inside her skull exploded into a tiny flash of lightning. There was no pain, just a feeling of falling. Everything was in slow motion. She blinked, trying to see through the darkness. She fell, slowly, with no control over anything. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She fell.

And was caught. Someone was close. She could hear someone calling her name. Not close, but far away. Before she could ask herself, why someone was close when their voice was far away, she drifted into the darkness.

She was standing in the middle of a large market place. There were burning buildings all around her. The flames crackled in the soft evening breeze. There were no other sounds. She was walking towards a large pile that rose in front of her. She was so small, the pile was looming over her like a huge black monster. Only when she came closer, could she see what it consisted of.

Bodies. Dead bodies. Dead familiar bodies.

As she stared into the dead eyes of her own parents, a scream echoed through the burning village, until darkness fell, drowning out everything…

Katsumi woke up breathlessly. She bolted up, her arms flying around in defense, almost knocking out the figure next to her. She gasped in shock as she realized where she was ("Couch…") and what she had seen ("What…"). Without being able to fight it, she felt tears running down her cheeks. Why… why was she remembering that now? Why? She felt vulnerable enough as it was, but being reminded of the most horrible day of her life? Whoever was pulling her strings had a really sick sense of humor. She buried her face in her hands, trying to breathe evenly again. She had to fight it. She couldn't let it pull her down again. It's been seven years… She had to be over that by now… right?

Suddenly there was a hand on her forearm, gently pulling down her hands from her face. She blinked, before turning her head towards the man sitting beside her. His one eye looked at her more than concerned. She fixed her gaze on the scar running over his other eye; she had no idea why, but the ragged line over the smooth skin was really helping her concentrate. She then closed her own eyes for a moment, before looking back up at Kakashi, finally meeting his gaze.

She expected him to say something like "Are you okay?" or other expressions of concern (yet she hoped he wouldn't see how weak she was, because, frankly, she hoped no one would ever see her like that. She wanted to remain strong, even though it was just a façade.), instead he was saying: "I know exactly what you need!" She blinked at that, watching more than perplexed how he got up, walked into his bedroom and returned with a dark sweater in his hands. Katsumi blinked again.

"Here," he simply said, pushing the sweater into her hands. "It's cold outside."

Cold… outside? "What?" she muttered, bewildered.

"You need a change of venue!" he explained – without really explaining anything.

She stared at him with her forehead furrowed. Still confused about her boiling emotions due to suddenly-re-appearing-memories and new-found-use-of-hormones, she was unable to understand what he wanted from her.

Kakashi sighed, sitting down on the edge of the couch, watching her with a smiling eye. "You have been stuck in this apartment for a week. It's time you'll see something else." He tilted his head at her. "You do remember that you were already walking to the door, right? Before you fainted?"

Fainted, huh? Yes, she had been on her way to the door, she had almost touched the door-handle. Then everything had gone black… she had seen… No! No more remembering that… and suddenly, she had found herself lying on the couch. Oh! He… he must have carried her here, right? He… had touched… with his arms around her… Oh, for crying out loud! Now she was blushing again! She exhaled deeply troubled. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with her?

She lowered her gaze and stared at the sweater in her hands. It was soft and large-looking. She could even make out a distant scent. His scent? Katsumi blinked. Alright. Enough already! Pull yourself together now, will you? This is insane! She had never before been so wrapped up in emotions. Never! She was a rational, controlled being. It didn't matter to her that some might even consider her cold just because she never showed any emotions. She just didn't know any better. Yet now… what was that? All emotions returning to her at once? This was really sickening!

"You're right," she then said – partly to herself, partly to him. "I need a change of venue. But… do you really think it would be a good idea to walk around with my foot still injured?"

"It'll be okay. You've rested one week straight. It's time to use it properly again. And by that I don't mean jump around on it or climb any mountains, just walking will be fine."

She looked down at her left foot. It was still a bit swollen, yet she had gotten used to the pain by now. It'll be okay… But… another thought crossed her mind. Change of venue, a bit of fresh air, she was alright with that, but what if… Her gaze wandered back to Kakashi, who was watching with a seemingly bored expression on his half-hidden face. Will he… "Will you…"

"Come along?" he ended her question. Her eyebrows lifted up slightly. "Sure. I can't let you wander around the village all by yourself. You might get lost."

If he was coming along, was there really a threat to go outside in the first place? She smiled shyly. "Thank you," she then muttered, staring at his masked chin. Whatever lay underneath that mask of his, she now knew it was something generous. He has been so kind to her. The more she thought back at the time they had spent living together, she came to the conclusion that he was indeed a bit selfish. It couldn't be all generosity; he was also enjoying her company. Otherwise he wouldn't care about her getting a bit of fresh air, right? He could have spent the evenings in his room, ignoring her altogether. Yet he never did.

Maybe there was a reason why he allowed her to stay at his place. Maybe he was just as lonely as she was (yet she couldn't be sure. It wasn't as if she really knew him…). But everyone needed company, right? She had just now realized that.

Learning something new every day…

What Katsumi didn't learn was the fact that Kakashi indeed had his reasons. Reasons she wouldn't approve of. Reasons that would drive her away immediately. He wasn't being selfish. He was doing it for the greater good. After all, he was just a shinobi, following his village's orders. That was all a shinobi would do… right?

A/N:

Disclaimer:

Kakashi and the people of Konoha belong to Kishimoto Masashi. Katsumi is mine. Instant ramen cups belong to THE GENIUS WHO INVENTED INSTANT RAMEN CUPS (I LOVE INSTANT RAMEN!). Yeah.

Next: Katsumi's going outside. First time in a week. Can she remember how to walk? What will happen once she steps outside? Find out in the next chapter!

Thank you for your time!