Of Things You Can't Control

Chapter 8

Deprivation

Two days after Kakashi had told Katsumi that he would teach her a few things about being a ninja, Katsumi had read every single book about that topic that Kakashi's bookshelves had to offer. Some even twice. So in theory she knew quite a bit about ninjutsu, genjutsu and even taijutsu, about hand seals and the history of the ninja world, about its wars and politics, about Konoha and other villages, about the clans that were important around here, basically about everything that might matter somehow.

She was doing all that theoretical stuff because… Katsumi sighed as she put down a book about loyalty among shinobi, before she threw a glance towards the door. Yesterday, Saturday morning, Kakashi had been called to an emergency meeting, upon which he had come home, packed a few things, told her to read until he came back and left. In a hurry. She didn't even have the time to ask when he was coming back. But he probably didn't know or wouldn't have told her anyways. Shinobi and their secrecy… There was a book on that as well.

It was Sunday night and all she had done these past two days was reading, eating, reading, sleeping, reading, eating, reading, sitting motionless on the couch, reading, staring at the door, reading, sighing every five minutes, reading, staring at the door. Thinking about Kakashi. She felt pathetic. And lonely. And bored. And hungry, but not hungry enough to actually get up and eat something. She was too apathetic for that.

Oh dear… what was this?

It felt as if she wasn't herself – without Kakashi around. What had happened? Why was she turning into a person that was deeply dependent on another? All those years that she had spent completely alone somewhere in the world seemed like the memories of a totally different person. It was weird. Weird, yes, her favorite word. So much weirdness around here. It had been weird to have stranded in Kakashi's apartment, weird that he took her in so easily, weird that she felt thankful for what he was doing for her, weird that it had been him who had unleashed all these emotions within her, weird that he would be the first person she ever fell in love with…

Love? Really? Was this love? Sitting on the couch, staring at the door, waiting for him to come home? Those butterflies she felt whenever he was around had all dropped dead in the pit of her stomach, their weight literally pulling her down. Everything because he had left the house for a few days. Maybe it was because of the way he had left. He had been in a hurry, but would it have hurt to kiss her goodbye, tell her to take care, not to be worried? He had just told her to read… and that was probably the only reason why she hadn't left yet. Because that request implied that he would be coming back soon and then he would teach her how to be a ninja.

If only he would come back a bit sooner…

Her heart was literally aching. That was another symptom of this new feeling his departure had brought upon her. She had no idea what it was but it didn't feel good. The dead butterflies in her stomach, the squeezing of her heart that felt as if someone was trying to crush it with an invisible hand, the emptiness inside her head… All those things caused her to stare at the door for hours, sigh loudly in frustration, just sit on the couch with absolutely nothing to do. She even stood in front of the window for a while, looking down at the rooftops of Konoha, hoping to see him jump across. When she saw others leap across the buildings, some very close to her window, she decided that looking out was no longer an option.

She still hadn't forgotten that she had to be careful. Konoha was one of the bigger settlements she had visited over the years, much too big for her liking. With way too many people around. People who were not supposed to know that she was here.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she thought about why she was here. Where would she be if Kakashi hadn't brought her to Konoha? She would probably wander around some more (– considering she would have survived the attack of those bandits). Most likely in an aimless kind of way because she never had any idea where she was supposed to go. Partly because of her horrible sense of direction, mostly because she just had no place to return to. There was no one she wanted to see because there was no one around anymore. She could have found a village where she could have settled down, but something inside her had always told her to keep going. Hope, maybe? Hope about the fact that there might be someone out there, looking for her?

She doubted that. There was no hope. Her past was gone and her future… Well, it wasn't as dark as before, but only because of Kakashi. Yet she knew that she wouldn't stay with him forever. She was a wanderer. Seven years of her life couldn't be changed by a few weeks of settling down. So what was she still doing here? She could have left and wandered on, but after reading all those books and meeting a ninja teacher of all people, she had at least the urge to learn something about the world she would be entering again soon enough. The world and how she could survive in it. Knowing a few more things would definitely not hurt.

It would have helped her in the past.

Yet there was another reason why she was still here. Because she liked how the butterflies felt – when they were not lying dead in the pit of her stomach. It was addictive… all those happy thoughts, the heart-racing, the heat… Oh goodness! She was addicted to Kakashi, wasn't she? Was this how it felt to be addicted to something/someone? And what she was experiencing right now, without him, was… deprivation? Cold, painful deprivation? So she was dependent on him… Wow. That was a first, literally.

This had to stop! Right now – before it got worse!

Katsumi leapt up from the couch, her mind racing. Then she stood a bit confused in front of the coffee table, looking towards the door yet again. Wait, what? Why was this so bad? She turned towards the bookcase. Because she had never depended on anyone ever since her parents–… Her head turned again. But maybe dependence wasn't too bad. It was a routine she could get used to. Routine meant safety. And it made her happy, didn't it? She blinked and looked down. It did make her happy. But was happiness and safety more important than independence and freedom and… She looked up. …loneliness?

She sat down with a sigh. Yeah. Even though she depended on Kakashi right now, this was much better than walking around aimlessly and all by herself. Maybe she should stop thinking too much about it. Thinking led to bad things. Like doubting and feeling miserable. Shut down your brain! Do it!

When she did, she closed her eyes, leaned back into the cushions of the couch and concentrated on her own breath. She relaxed only slightly.

After only a short moment of peace, she suddenly heard a distant noise. Katsumi opened her eyes and sat up straight. Her first glance hit the door. Nothing. The window on the other side? She looked around feverishly. Nope. When the noise hit her ears again, she stood up slowly, carefully, as if on high alert. A ninja moves stealthily. No fast movements. She listened to the sound and soon after located it. Kakashi's bedroom. It kind of sounded as if someone was tapping against the window. Someone…

Her heart leapt into full speed. Was he back?

After that, she threw aside every precaution and basically ran into his bedroom, blindly hoping to see him sitting on the windowsill. She never once thought about the fact that it would be rather stupid of him to knock on his own window when he could have used the front door. And because she was too blind, she froze immediately when she realized how wrong she had been.

As soon as she had ripped open the door and entered the bedroom, her gaze fell upon the figure crouching outside the window. That was not Kakashi. Definitely not. That figure had dark hair draped in a spiky fan-like ponytail, a very feminine outline and a look on its very feminine face that basically screamed: "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in this room?!" It took Katsumi almost thirty seconds to react to the situation. She was very slow tonight. At first she kept staring at the other woman, then she slowly backed away, pointlessly hoping that she had not been seen, before she almost stumbled over the threshold into the living-room. There she pretty much jumped against the door to close it.

At the exact same time, there was a clicking sound from the door. Katsumi's heart was racing in her chest. She looked around feverishly – only to realize that there was a one-eyed man with spiky silver hair staring at her in an amused, yet concerned kind of way. She inhaled shrilly, before she tried to regain her posture.

"Welcome home!" she mouthed breathlessly, while still leaning against his bedroom door as if she was afraid the things (and person) inside would come out once she moved. She was too shocked by what had happened that she didn't even think about how awkward all this must have looked to Kakashi.

"Katsumi?" he asked quietly while entering the room, slowly removing his sandals and forehead protector as he did so. "Everything alright?"

She blinked. "I… um, sure. Everything's fine," she then stammered and even tried to smile.

Kakashi raised his eyebrows and walked closer to her. "Really? Then why do you look so flushed?"

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. After swallowing hard, she whispered: "I… I'm just… happy to see you!"

He chuckled at that, before his eye fixated hers – basically urging her to talk.

"There… there is…" she began quietly, trying to keep her cool as he came to a halt right in front of her. Of course she failed miserably and instead blurted out breathlessly: "There's-a-woman-on-the-outside-of-your-window!" She blinked rapidly. "And-she-might-have-seen-me!"

Katsumi lost it, when he put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her aside. While she was literally shaking in anticipation, he calmly opened the door and looked inside. By how he walked into his room, turned on the light, opened the window and came back with a blank look on his face (yet with a tiny spark in his right eye), she could tell that he thought she was completely nuts. And when she looked around the door into the room, there was no longer a figure waiting outside. Oh crap!

"But… but…" Katsumi couldn't comprehend the situation. She wasn't nuts! The woman had really been there! She stared into the darkness with her mouth open. But… what if she did see things? She had spent the last two days in a very weird way with little to no food and even less sleep. Maybe her eyes – weary from all the reading – had only played a trick on her?

Suddenly, she was being pulled into an embrace. When she was pressed against Kakashi's chest, she heard him whisper: "I'm sorry I left you alone for two days. But I'm glad you're still here."

She blinked at that and slightly leaned back to look up at him. "Of course I am. You promised to teach me!"

He laughed and leaned down to press his masked lips on her forehead. She grabbed the back of his vest forcefully. The longer she held onto him like that, the calmer she got. And with her breath normalizing, the butterflies came back to life. Inhaling deeply, she muttered against his chest: "I'm glad you're back…"

They stood like this for another moment, before Kakashi let go of her to step back – yet it was Katsumi who still clung onto him. "Not yet," she mumbled against him. She heard him sigh. A second later he had grabbed her and carried her into the living room on his arms. She didn't even have time to react, and when he reached the couch to put her down, she was still grabbing the front of his vest.

"Katsumi, let go," he said with a smirk.

"No!" She didn't care that she acted like a child.

"Katsumi…" There was an edge to his voice that sounded very teacher-like.

She looked up at him and smiled, then pulled herself closer to him, until she could press her cheek against his. As she clung onto him like a little monkey, with him still bending over, it had to happen that one of them lost their balance. She hadn't thought it would be Kakashi. They fell over with a shriek of surprise from her and a tiny little groan from him. Finally, Katsumi loosened her grip. He adjusted his position on top of her, looking down a tad too serious.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, watching him closely.

He tilted his head. "I'm fine," he replied thoughtfully, still looking down at her as if he was taking in every single detail of her face. She couldn't help but blush.

"How was your mission? Difficult?" she whispered, unconsciously pressing herself deeper into the cushions.

"It was alright." His voice was low, his eye literally staring into her soul.

Katsumi swallowed. The heat was back. And while the butterflies fluttered wildly inside her stomach, she watched how Kakashi pulled his mask down and bent closer to her.

He couldn't help it. He needed her.

Kakashi watched her intensely. The more he did so, the bigger the urge grew. And he knew it was wrong, but these last days had shown him that he couldn't ignore this rather primal desire any longer. He had almost failed his secret mission because he couldn't stop thinking about the tiny red-haired girl he had left behind, who would probably sit on his couch all day long, reading the books he had told her to read – he had hoped that would keep her in his apartment, where she would have been safe. He hadn't been sure she would still be here when he had left. Considering her nature. Ignoring the fact that he might have made a bigger impression on her than he could have guessed.

So she was still here. And now he knew why.

It was his fault. He didn't want to go through that topic again – about how it was wrong to manipulate her like that. Right now, all he saw was the girl he was supposed to watch over, until her fate was decided. Until they knew what to do with her. He, on the other hand, already knew what to do with her. And he hated himself for it. But come on, he was young and a guy and guys had needs too and… Oh dear. Seriously?

That was more than unprofessional!

But… I'm just playing along, he told himself. Maybe he was taking this role a little too far, but… No. Enough with the thinking already!

He saw her opening her mouth, asking about his mission. When he answered her, his voice sounded way too rough. What was wrong with him? It wasn't like him to show any kind of emotion; he usually kept a straight, mostly uninterested and unimpressed looking face about everything (that wasn't combat-related anyways). So why was he behaving like a hormone driven teenager in his best years? Maybe because when he could have been one, he wasn't allowed to? He inhaled deeply at the thought of his childhood and youth, about everything that had shaped him. Seriously? You were in the middle of something here, don't drift off to memory lane now...

Okay, he had it!

With a swift motion he grabbed his mask and pulled it down to his neck, soon after leaning closer to a surprised looking Katsumi, who had pushed herself quite deep into the cushions beneath him. He re-positioned his arms and kept one knee between her legs. Hovering over her, taking in every single detail about her, he tried his utmost to keep his mind shut. And just by bending down to place his lips over hers, he kind of did.

It was healthy to follow your desires, right? Hey, mind, SHUT UP! Instead of arguing on about the matter, he placed one hand underneath Katsumi's head and guided her closer to him, all the while deepening their kiss. She responded immediately by putting her arms around his neck and basically pressing herself against him, she even moved her hips against his knee. And slowly, while still being more or less in control, he began to react to her movements.

She is sixteen!

Oh for crying out loud! Don't make this a debate about age difference! She's quite mature for her age, okay?

You're a sick man.

He just kissed the corner of her mouth, also leaning back a little to let her catch her breath, when the little voice inside his head decided to torture him some more. With a sigh of exasperation, he pressed his face against her collarbone. He was now literally lying on top of her, completely pushing her into the cushions. When he stopped moving for a while, she began drawing circles on his back, before her fingers found his hair. Her touch was light and somehow still a bit shy, but it felt genuinely good.

And that might have pushed the right button: So what?

After quickly getting rid of his vest, he shifted his position and kind of rolled on his side, pulling Katsumi halfway on top of him. Her eyes were on him. Full of curiosity, anticipation and heat. He stretched his neck to kiss her, before he snuggled against her, feeling how she slowly got more comfortable lying on his chest.

"So," he began after a moment of silence in which the urge was temporarily pushed down by a deep feeling of fatigue. "Have you read the books I told you to read?"

She leaned her cheek against his collarbone. "I have read every book in your bookshelf."

He raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. "Really? That's… impressive!" And proved the fact that she was way too fixated on him and what he told her. Or maybe she just wanted to learn? "But I hope you stayed away from those in the higher shelves."

"You mean your porn novel collection? No, those I haven't read," she replied and rolled her eyes, before adding under her breath: "Not all of them at least…"

"Hey, those aren't porn novels, those are…"

"…romantic adventure stories, sure!" She chuckled and he couldn't help but laugh as well.

"Sometimes I need to take my mind off of things, you know? Being a ninja isn't easy," he defended himself. He usually didn't care about people judging his reading material, but Katsumi… He just didn't want to come across as too pathetic.

"I really don't understand why you're reading something like that," she whispered against him. "I mean… a guy like you…" - she underlined her words by slowly stroking his chest with her right hand - "doesn't seem to need the romantic adventure stories of somebody else…"

"What are you saying?" he asked quietly, watching her closely. He saw her blushing. And he knew exactly where this was heading. The urge, that hungry little monster inside him, moved its ugly head a little.

"I'm just saying," she began, pressing her face against his neck – he could feel her breath on his skin, "you… could easily have your own… romantic adventure stories… if you wanted to…"

Her voice was quiet and unnaturally low, raspy even, with a tiny bit of shyness in between that made him lick his lips absentmindedly. She might look like an innocent girl, but he knew there was somebody else entirely underneath that pale skin of hers. So reading Icha Icha did have its effects on her. In this very moment, he thought that letting her read Jiraiya-sama's books had been a good thing after all. At least they were on the same page with that.

"You mean I could have my own romantic adventure story?" he repeated quietly, while placing his arms around her. "And even easily? You really think I could do that?"

He saw how she was blushing an even deeper shade of red. "Maybe…" she mumbled shyly.

"And why is that?" It felt nice to build up the tension and watch her wriggle internally.

"Oh you know!" she muttered and buried her face in the side of his neck.

Kakashi laughed softly. "No, I don't. Tell me."

He felt her exhale against him.

When she didn't reply, he pulled his arms closer around her and lifted her up slightly, so that he could whisper into her ear. "Tell me why you think me worthy of having romantic adventures."

She grabbed the front of his shirt a bit too forcefully, before she replied, without looking at him: "Well, because you are nice…"

"Nice? Seriously? Oh, come on! I must be more than that!" Grinning to himself, he pulled her so close that she was basically lying on top of him. She didn't protest. Positioning herself on his chest by crossing her arms in front of her, she rested her chin on them to look up at him.

"Of course you are!" she replied with a sigh, before she began naming all his qualities as if she was reading him a poem. "You are nice and kind and likable… but also mysterious… and unpredictable, yet trustworthy and good… You are strong and fearless… and loyal…" Her voice grew quieter and her gaze wandered over his face. "And you look good."

He blinked slowly. "I… look good?"

"Well, yeah, you are not ugly."

He had to bite the inside of his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud. "Gee, thanks."

"Come on, you know how you look…"

"Do I?" he teased with a smirk.

He didn't think it would have been possible, but her cheeks turned yet another shade of red that was even darker than her hair. He smirked wider and put his hands lightly on her hips, feeling warmer just by touching her. When he stretched his neck towards her, her eyes looked up at him in sheer anticipation. "How good do I look?" he then mouthed when their noses were only inches away.

Her lips parted slightly. Her body trembled. She blinked. "Eh?"

Her heart was pounding, hard and raw, mirroring another feeling that was spreading from where his hands were resting on her hips. A beautiful warmth, turning the butterflies in her stomach into a whirlwind of happy rustling wings. The way he looked at her. So close she could see the tiniest speck of gray in his dark eye, feel his warm breath on her trembling lips, smell the cold night air in his hair. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. She inhaled deeply, lowering her eyes for only a second, before looking back at him again, taking in everything about him.

Even the hunger that pulsated in his gaze. So intense it made her shiver beneath his touch.

She blinked again and time sped up.

His hand was in her hair, gripping it with a force that made her wince. Then his mouth crashed into hers, warm and demanding, desperate even. His tongue forced past her lips, causing her to almost choke on her breath. His kiss was aggressive, to say the least, leaving her yearning for air after only a few moments. And more. Her hands found his shoulders, as she crawled closer to him, straddling his abdomen, as he pushed up onto his free arm, with his other hand still clutching her hair, keeping her mouth in place.

She felt him moving beneath her, his long legs bending over the edge of the couch and then, he lifted her up, pushing off the couch, with her hanging onto him like a lifeless doll, glued to his lips, unable to move in any way other than responding to the movements of his tongue. She felt her heart racing inside her chest, as his free hand grabbed her rear and pushed her up a little, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist. She held on for dear life, desperate for the slightest touch, hungry for more.

His breath was ragged as he finally leaned back a little, watching her with both his eyes by now, the red one staring into her soul, the black dots within moving slightly. She couldn't move, only stare, even holding her breath as she saw how he licked his lips. Like an animal ready to devour its prey. She swallowed hard, her fingernails unconsciously digging into his shoulders. His hand left her hair and joined the other one on her butt, firmly squeezing it as he lifted her up a tiny bit more. She arched her back a little and it was as if he had been waiting for it. The smallest sign that she approved.

He moved so quickly she couldn't even understand what had happened until she was lying on her back on his bed, staring up at him with shaking limbs. Like an addict ready to get another shot. He loomed over her, watching her, his jaw set, his gaze dark. She felt her hand moving and as it pointed up at him with her hand outstretched, calling him closer, he gave the tiniest nod, grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head in a swift motion. As she was staring at the scars on his chest, he moved in, crawling over her like a tiger, ready to pounce.

The heat within her grew with every second. Even though it burned, it felt good. She held her breath as he came to a sudden stop right above her, looking down at her with an intensity she had not yet seen on him. He looked almost angry, with his eyebrows pulled together, creating a little wrinkle between them. She swallowed, suddenly in desperate need for air. She inhaled sharply as his hands grabbed her legs and pushed them up and apart, before he knelt down between them, his fingers gripping her waist with a force she had not expected. Slowly he pulled her upwards into a sitting position.

All the time he had not broken eye contact. She was sweating almost uncomfortably under his gaze, her lips trembling, her breath as raw as her heartbeat. Another moment ticked past, before she found the courage to move her hands. They found his arms, holding her in place. She could feel his tense muscles beneath her fingers, his skin warm and rough where the occasional scar overlapped another. Feeling her way up past his elbow and over his biceps, she saw something red in the corner of her eye. A tattoo of a stylized flame. Fiery red. Somehow familiar. She traced the lines with her index finger, shortly looking away.

He used the tiny moment of distraction to push his hands from her waist upwards and under her shirt, his hands rough against her skin. His fingers scraped over her shoulder blades, while his thumbs ran along the edge of her breasts. She inhaled sharply and stared up at him with her mouth open, the burning inside intensifying. He froze for a moment, watching her closely. Considering to keep going. She had long shut off her rationally thinking brain and had given into the sensation that spread inside her. She didn't want him to stop, that she knew. That she needed.

So it was her, who kept going as she lowered her arms, grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head in a not so swift motion as he had done, but it came off either way. Leaving her completely exposed to him. Cold air hit her skin, while her insides kept on burning. She saw him lower his gaze slightly, taking in what she had allowed him to see. Then he clenched his jaw. A tiny movement that almost made her sigh in delight. As she watched him in anticipation, she could feel his hands moving from her shoulder blades to the front, almost cautiously closing around her small breasts.

She closed her eyes with a quiet moan as he squeezed lightly.

He could hear his blood rushing through his ears, his heartbeat loud and rough, his breathing as controlled as possible, every muscle tense and on high alert. Her skin was soft beneath his touch, her chest heaving against his fingers. The tiny moan she issued was enough to make him move. His body was working against him, his mind silent for the moment, the monster eager to take control. He pushed her lightly, watching her fall backwards onto his bed with her green eyes flying open, her hair framing a slightly shocked face, her arms uselessly hanging by her sides. He followed her immediately, pushed up on his elbows, pressing his chest against hers, skin against skin, pushing her into the mattress.

His mouth collided with hers as he leaned closer, his hands finding her face, guiding it into the kiss. He deepened it with his tongue pushing past her open lips, quickly finding hers in a wild dance. Their breaths clashed, the quiet sounds she made intensifying the closer he got. He didn't even notice the grunts he was issuing. It didn't matter. His raw instincts and the growing urge had long silenced any comments about what he was doing. This was exactly what he had needed. What he had been thinking about when he had almost failed his mission. What had distracted him so much.

And it felt so good. To go against his orders, against the rules, doing something just for him.

She moaned breathlessly against his mouth, making him turn his head, continuing to kiss her cheek, her ear, her jawline, down her neck. His wet lips on her warm skin, her ragged breath in his ear, it was all that mattered. He felt her hands snaking around his upper body, clawing at his shoulders, holding on for dear life as she moved her chest against his. He pushed up on his arms, pulling her into a tight hug as they reached a sitting position, his hands circling around her back, taking in every inch of skin. He kissed her neck, feeling her pulse just beneath, her heartbeat drumming against his lips.

He looked up as her fingers dove into his hair. She stared at him, breathlessly, anticipating his next move. He waited, watching her closely while he could feel his chakra rushing through his Sharingan as he concentrated on her face, on how her lips parted with every breath she inhaled, how her eyes moved ever so slightly over his features, how something seemed to be burning within her eyes. Impatience. He smiled darkly. That made her grip his hair forcefully, pulling herself closer to him, her mouth inches away from his. Her breath was sweet on his lips. But he waited.

And it was her who pushed her mouth onto his first. Her lips closing around his, desperately trying to taste him, feel him. When he finally responded, she moaned quietly against him, doubling her effort to match his movements. Their kiss made her tumble and as she fell backwards, he landed hard on her chest, quickly rolling around so she was on top now. She watched him breathlessly as she leaned back, her hands square on his chest, her upper body swaying under the lack of air. The small bouncing movement of her breasts mesmerized him for a moment.

"My eyes are up here," he heard her say with a hoarse voice and a tiny smile.

He looked up and smirked, then leaned forward and without breaking eye contact closed his lips around her left breast, his tongue scraping over the hard nipple. She gasped in surprise, digging her fingernails into his skin. A deep blush crept up her face as he continued kissing and gently sucking on her soft flesh. Her breathing turned into quiet moaning, just loud enough for him to keep going. His hands found her back and slowly trailed downwards to the rim of her shorts. He felt her stiffen slightly.

It should have been a hint. But he moved past her signals. He was beyond that now.

As his thumbs hooked under the fabric, his mouth still glued to her chest, it took him only a short upwards movement of his leg to roll her around again, pressing her into the mattress, before he slowly leaned up, licking his lips as he met her breathless gaze. His hands closed around the tight hem of her shorts and he was about to pull them down, when he noticed something inside her eyes.

It was tiny, but it was there. Like the flame of a candle, swaying in the air, burning deep within her. And then it was gone, replaced with the darkest he had ever seen her eyes. Dark and blank. Seconds later he could feel a strangely familiar heat radiating from her, quickly spreading over her skin. When it reached her hips, where his hands were already halfway underneath the fabric, it got stronger, warmer. Unbearably warm. He endured it for a few moments before letting go of her almost immediately, his palms throbbing in pain as he pressed them into the mattress next to her body.

He inhaled sharply as he snapped back into control.

His eyes found hers and now he could see them watering. She looked away quickly, even raising a hand to wipe at her face, but it was too late. He had seen it and it had pierced him like a thousand kunai. He had gone too far. And he hated himself for it. Clenching his jaw, he slowly scrambled off of her, until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands, breathing deeply, trying to keep the hatred down that roared within him.

He was just like them.

It was all too much. Too hot. Too fast. But it also felt so good, too good? She wanted it, right? Wanted him to go where he was about to go, wanted to feel his hands move where they hadn't been yet. She wanted it – but something inside her had a different opinion. At first her heart started throbbing, wilder and louder than ever before, then she felt the heat spreading from her chest, rushing through every fiber of her body.

She stared up at the man above her, watched him, noticed how the edges of his face wavered. She blinked and he was gone. Instead there were multiple faces staring down at her, with hungry, lusty eyes, drunken breaths and searing hot touches. She gasped, shaking her head, trying to get rid of the memory, but the tears came nonetheless. She raised her hands and wiped at her eyes until the faces were gone and Kakashi's was back. Looking at her in breathless disbelief. When she realized that his hands were no longer on her, she blinked in confusion. But too late.

He was retreating. Scrambling off of her without another glance. Her heart raced inside her chest as she watched him sit down at the edge of his bed, resting his head in his hands.

What happened?

To her own surprise she couldn't move, still feeling heat pulsating off of her skin. Did she– Yes, she must have used her fire skin, unconsciously. On him? To push him away? No! Why would she do that? She felt panic rise inside her, clawing at her like a beast she couldn't control. Another thing on the list. Her breathing was fast and ragged, working against her, too fast, not enough air. Her lungs were burning, she wheezed, unable to draw breath. Her vision blurred.

She clenched her fists and pressed them into the mattress. Pull yourself together, dammit! It hurt to fight, her muscles tensing against the sensation, but it hurt even more when she looked back at Kakashi's form on the bed. He was lowering his hands and stared at his palms. Her heart sank. Something cold spread from within her gut, ever so slowly fighting the heat until it was all over. And she felt as if all life had been drained from her.

But when he moved, straightening up, getting ready to stand up and leave, she forced herself to move. Her hands grabbed the sheets as she pulled herself into a sitting position, putting every last resource of her body into it. As she inched closer, her hand outstretched, he had gotten up, standing next to the bed, his tall form towering over her, unreachable. She collapsed onto her knees, panting as if she had been running.

Then he took a step towards the door and, without a word or another glance, left the room. The little "Wait!" that escaped her lips a second too late rolled onto the floor and disappeared, unheard. For a few seconds she couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything. She felt empty.

It felt like an eternity what had only been moments ago, when everything had been perfect. When she had felt his warmth, his demanding hands, his aggressive mouth. That beautiful sensation that had pulsated through her very core. That incredible feeling his touches had ignited within her that had silenced everything else. All she had wanted was for him to touch her more. And in a blink of an eye, when she had allowed herself a moment of vulnerability, a slight fear of the unknown, she had let in that one doubt, that one memory, that had destroyed everything.

She closed her eyes and in that moment her body sprang back to life.

First came the tears, hot and burning, basically gushing from her eyes, dropping off her chin onto the fists that clenched around the bed sheets. A deep tremble seized her body, every muscle cramping against the shaking. Her throat tightened, the lump within growing, her breathing rough and raw as sobs and other strangled sounds escaped her wide mouth. She tried to fight it, tried to control the aching of her heart as the cold settled within her. But it wouldn't do.

A long, painful moment passed with her falling apart right there on the bed where he left her. Where she made him leave. Where she pushed him away. Where she was all alone.

She wasn't new to this feeling. She had been alone before. But this time it felt as if she was crushed from the inside, seized by invisible hands, pulled down by the weight of the world. She had been happy, was all the way up high, soaring with the birds and butterflies. Now she couldn't even remember how it felt to smile. Everything was gone. All warmth, all peace and safety. She had fallen. She was all alone.

And it was her own fault. She had wanted too much. Now she knew that she didn't deserve to be happy. It was not the life she was meant to have. The sooner she understood that the less it would hurt. And one day, it wouldn't hurt anymore. But that day seemed far, far away as she fell into herself, a sobbing, crying pile of flesh and bones and broken dreams.

It was over before it had even really begun.

A/N:

What a roller coaster, huh? Sorry about that.

Disclaimer:

Kakashi was created by Kishimoto Masashi. Katsumi (and all her ups and downs) is mine.

Next: Is it really over? Find out in the next chapter!

Thank you for your time!