Summary: In which Kakashi stubbornly denies the obvious.

*Set 2 years after the Fourth War

A/N: For added context (though not entirely crucial..) this picks up after Chapters 3 and 4. I also made a cover-art for it, you can find it in my tumblr! :)

Temptation was like fire, they said, and there was enough poetry about this alluring flame that ensnared those that came too close. Except, Kakashi noted with amusement, that Sakura was hardly fire, at least not the kind that allured anyone.

What she was.. was much more ubiquitous. Like rich earth found under the soles of his boots after retreating in the forest, stuck between his nails when he'd been curious enough to sink his fingers to feel life beneath it. Earth nurtured growth just by its existence that it only needed something like a tiny drop of rain..a simple enough, unassuming little thing that Kakashi had been careless enough to give. But unlike fire, ensnaring had a much different vice grip when it grew roots, finding every pockets of space inside him until it was impossible to weed out. Incineration would have been a much easier end.

He had known how a kiss felt. Technically.

Romance was something Kakashi guiltlessly consumed, written so vividly in those pages that it had satiated everything he'd ever want out of the subject. Even though young Kakashi had long suspected the writings to be exaggerated depictions (than anecdotal as the author had claimed), his passing curiosities for the real thing, had never been enough to make him find out for himself.

His first kiss was at thirteen; masked lips had been dry from the cold air, stiff against hers, and unlike anything he had ever read about. He remembered the sad expression in Rin's face when she had offered heart and he had winced instinctively, before trying, out of some misshapen form of guilt, to rummage deep inside him for anything.. anything of value amidst the old sentiments he had stored away. But he had found nothing that could resemble love (at least not the kind she had wanted), that he had clumsily pressed his lips at the corner of her mouth before pulling away slowly, conflicted even as Rin smiled weakly at the bitter sweet gift. "I'm sorry," he mumbled for the both of them afterwards.

His second kiss came many years after, at New-Year's eve. Sakura stood there in his hallway, brazen with raw honesty as she usually did with a lot of things. She was a woman now, old enough to demand his affections, though young enough to make him fear what she'd do with them that Kakashi felt stricken with fear. From a page of a book was a treasured sentiment that he had so many times borrowed, and he had imparted it to Sasuke during the war: only hate needed a reason —an entirely simplistic truism, he would realize now. For there were consequences for everything and Sakura had dragged them along with her, seemingly uncaring, like an invisible trail cinched at the ends of her silk kimono. Inside him was a waging war, and he was already at the verge of following desire over reason, that it wouldn't do to feel her lips against his masked ones.

And yet as she pulled him closer by the fabric of his shirt, Kakashi felt her soft lips against his near petrified state; he thought he knew how a kiss felt, but this one stirred something in his that made him want to curl up in shame.

As he refused her, Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck with ambivalence; in another life, where he'd been much younger, much less disillusioned, he could trust an attractive promise. Except Sakura was no Rin, and he caught a glimpse of her anger and what he assumed were the onset of hot tears before she stormed away, heels loud against the old wooden floor of his hallway. He would never forget it.

He felt determined enough the next morning. The sweltering rock seared against his palm as he scaled the mountain wall with one hand, the other tied behind his back. Something about the simplicity of physical training cleared his mind like none other; it didn't require cunningness nor strategy the way ninjutsu did, but only focused his mind and body to one single instinct of endurance. There was no room for much else, and every strain of his muscle when he lifted himself upward was a bid for surrender he ignored with each laboring inhale and exhale.

Somewhere far down below was his jounin vest, tossed uncaringly when the suffocating heat became too much. He cursed under his breath now as an angled rock scraped against his chest enough to cut through the fabric of his shirt. But he would not slow down; just a few feet up was the haloed summit, and he honed in his focus to the heavens as he found a stable enough foothold beneath him. "One more—," he spat before his right hand finally grabbed onto a clearing comfortable enough for him to prop his elbow, gaining leverage. With the last of his adrenalin, he hoisted himself up a generous enough length to cross that final distance before collapsing right at the very top, allowing his whole body to lay prostrate there on the cliff-edge.

Up here, where the altitude afforded him privacy, Kakashi pulled his mask down to breathe in the fresh air, enjoying the prickling sensation of sweat drying out from the cool breeze. The sun that had been a relentless torture, now soothed his throbbing muscles that he shut his eyes; a persistent part of his mind noted how the sunlight turned warm pink against closed eyelids and he blinked quickly, staring right into the sun as if to scorch the thoughts from his brain. But his mind had already wandered enough that as he looked away, the bright little speckles of after-image behaved like pink flower petals floating around the supposed vast emptiness of the horizon.

With a gloved hand covering his face, Kakashi decided to alleviate a burden. "Sakura.." he whispered cautiously. Even speaking her name felt like a violation, so immutably intertwined with his own desires that it could never be the same name anymore.

The still air gave way to the clanging of a distant gong as Kakashi stood amongst those who had gathered in silence for Neji's memorial. Each of the tall candles were lit with such practiced solemnity by the prominent members of the Hyuuga clan and Kakashi pondered the difference had their traditions been more like those foreign ones.. with their eulogies. Heartfelt, sometimes tearfully spoken words that celebrated the person—who he had been to others, apart from what his death had given them.

Neji had died to save his comrades, but Kakashi would no longer be so deluded to deny that sometimes death was just death—an utter waste of life, ending too soon and there was nothing wrong with admitting how better things could have been had he lived as well. He would argue the same for the loved ones he'd lost.

In the end, it was prudence that compelled him to keep his inching cynicism to himself as he moved a few steps closer to where Gai stood. Most of the visitors had shuffled out in the same manner of silence after the ceremony, and Gai turned around briefly to regard his presence. "A bit of color looks good on you, Kakashi," he said approvingly with a faint smirk. The sun-kissed shade from marooning himself atop the mountain the other week had managed to make him less ghostly that he mumbled an embarrassed thanks as he readjusted his mask.

One of the flower vases that had stood at the edge of the cluster of new offerings had been knocked down and Gai bent low to carefully tilt it back up. When he stood up again, Kakashi noticed his expression carried more gloom.

"How is your team doing?" His tone somber, eyes still resting on Neji's resting place.

"Good.." he replied with measure. The thought of their own tutelages and the passing of generations were sentiments that hung heavy on his old friend around this time of year and Kakashi patiently took it in stride. Never mind that his feelings for his former student would likely supersede Gai's casual inquiry about the quality of their teamwork and as if to test how strong he could uphold his own words, Sakura appeared through the receding crowd to pay her last respects, gracefully crouching as she plopped little white pills into some of the vases with that nurturing attention she gave for even the smallest of things.

"Thank you, Sakura," Gai said softly as she straightened up. Kakashi merely stood there, convincingly nonchalant, or so he'd like to think, with hands in his pockets.

"They're like soldier pills for flowers, it should give the blooms an extra few weeks." A tiny smile graced her lips before glancing at Kakashi for a second and then back. "I should be going, Gai-sensei," she mumbled with a now tight expression, gaze averted as she quickly strode away.

"Hmm.." he mused, turning towards Kakashi with a curious look. "What was that about?"

"She's mad at me," he admitted with ease. It took a small truth, to hide a big lie.

"How come?" Gai gave him a concerned look—one usually reserved for Lee when the young man's performance fell below a hundred-ten percent.

He quietly pondered Gai's question as he stared at the random blades of grass that stuck out from underneath the soles of his sandals. "I've been a horrible mentor to her, I suppose." True in more ways he cared to admit. But it was also now a deceiving little euphemism, so grossly understated that it was tempting, for a second, to disclose the perversion behind it—Sakura's feelings, and the wretched fact that he returned them.

Gai held bonds such as this close to sacred, and the line had been crossed the moment Kakashi had reached that deprave point of imagining the smell of her on some nights, when his nose had been buried deep in his pillow, or the kind of sounds she would make against his sheets.

"None of that, Kakashi—you've been a good sensei. I'm sure Sakura will come around." The confidence in his words nearly made him believe it could be so simple.

Emotional distractions compromised missions and back during his ANBU days, suppression training had been infinitely easier with a sharingan. The loss of it would now necessitate a more traditional approach, but he was eager to move on.

And so Kakashi decided to return to their usual lunch spot, a few weeks after her confession. He wasn't incorrigible enough not to understand her hurt, that it came as no surprise when Sakura didn't show up.

It was with stubbornness, if not belligerence that Sakura still avoided him after four months. That was what it felt like to him, anyway, as he ate alone silently, observing the humdrum way Teuchi went about bussing dishes from the other side of the ramen bar. There had been no visible hint of reconciliation in her part, just as if their recent friendship only ever amounted to fulfilling a certain expectation. But despite the twinge in his chest, he understood her pain. Even her anger.

Though it didn't change anything; Sakura continued to avoid him with a stubbornness that rivalled his own disinclination for the chase—an ongoing stalemate that shouldn't have happened if she handled things like an adult. Personal feelings could be set aside for the sake of professionalism and he had managed his own quite competently. Kakashi idly lifted his drinking glass, staring at his blurry reflection, and then punctuating his thoughts with a firm thud of his cup on the table.

Sakura avoided him until she didn't.

He had been eyeing a new set of shurikens at a store display until a tap on his back made him turn his head around.

She stood there smiling at him as she lugged a stack of books with one arm; her expression bore no trace of bitterness, the dimpled smile she gave him as radiant as the afternoon sun on her face that Kakashi's breath hitched. "They jack up their prices like crazy here," she whispered sagely.

"Is that so?" A much wider smile had spread behind his mask, interest in said merchandise completely forgotten.

"You shouldn't buy your gear at a boutique store, surely you know that, sensei?"

"I was just looking," he replied plainly, bemused still by their sudden meeting.

But his singular reply appeared to have stalled whatever impending banter she had meant to go off on, that Sakura bit her inner cheek. "So...what are you up to today?" Thankfully, she was undeterred.

"Nothing at all," he lied eagerly. "You?"

Her mouth quirked into a pout before a sigh. "Work and work—I have double shifts at the hospital today, and research at night."

"I see.." Unable to mask the disappointment in his tone, Kakashi amended with a small pat that nearly landed on her head out of habit, diverted towards her shoulder. "Well, don't run yourself too hard."

"When do I ever not?" A small wink and then her expression softened. "Anyway, I just thought to say...hi." There was a small hesitance to her voice, though still she smiled that Kakashi decided to pay little thought to it. "I guess I'll see you around, sensei!"

"It's good seeing you, Sakura." He tipped his head low in farewell, and he watched her slink away through the busy street, mildly amused at how her pink hair proved a tenacious contrast even as she shrank further from view.

A time of peace restructured the needs of a militarized village, ushering in its wake an uncomfortable truth he was starting to accept—he was becoming obsolete. He supposed, he could assimilate like everyone else; anything that didn't involve the academy, he imagined, as he'd already established himself a terrible teacher, could suit him fine. Or he could retire; he was practically living in retirement with the excess amount of time he spent loitering around the village. Even after doubling time at the cenotaph, on training, and rereading his books, Kakashi still found himself in agonizing idleness.

He'd been wrong to expect they'd pick up right where they had left off and Kakashi slowly realized that perhaps Sakura had never avoided him to begin with, but had simply stopped making the effort to find the time, much like the little regard he'd given her during her younger years. "Such is life.." he mumbled softly, somewhat perturbed by the unfortunate symmetry, as he stared across the manicured garden.

"Hnn.." Shikamaru concurred listlessly with his chin propped up with one hand, though not bothering to know more about its context. "Your move," he drawled.

Kakashi snapped his thoughts back to his opponent, taking a moment to assess his strategy as he moved his piece a few paces forward to protect his general—an apparent wise choice that earned an appreciative grunt from his opponent.

"Heh. You're still pretty sharp, even when distracted."

"One of my best ploys." But the smirk he wore was short-lived; Shikamaru revealed his trap with one move of his deceivingly unthreatening lance, landing it proudly with a rich clack on the hollowed wood. Game over.

"Another round?" Shikamaru's eagerness to keep playing could only mean that Kakashi was at least putting up a much more decent fight than the young man's usual opponents. Having so much time to kill, he obliged him.

Kakashi could see her sitting quietly, as it was easy enough from where he stood in front of Obito's grave. Her knees were slumped against the grass and she remained there still as he prepared to leave.

It was rare that someone outlasted him at the cenotaph and a nagging concern compelled him to stop as he passed her, the distance only close enough for him to see that her gaze fixated at nothing in particular... like she'd drifted miles away.

The story of the man buried there had circulated well in the village; a jounin war veteran, haunted so viciously by his own demons, he'd taken his own life. It was a painfully common narrative in this time of peace, varying only with the different manners these broken soldiers had accomplished their violent end. With other casualties, sometimes. His son now lay next to him under a smaller tomb conforming of a two year old boy.

"Hey.." he trailed off, finding no fitting words of comfort. It made her look up at the very least before she lowered her head back with a sigh. Finding his presence acknowledged, Kakashi took the chance to crouch next to her.

"He just wasn't ready." She spoke mostly to the ground, her tone weary. "This...this could have been avoided if we had better assessments in place.."

"You can't save them all, Sakura." Washed with a recollection of endless stretchers and the stench of blood, Kakashi was reminded that she always did try to save them all. And he'd always worry she'd sacrifice herself trying.

"But if I've only spent more time facilitating their therapy…" Regret was etched in her face as she shook her head. "I was too naive.."

"No, that's not true," he urged. "You can't blame yourself for this.." Please, he pleaded silently as a small bid to stir her out of the trap of guilt. Still, Kakashi couldn't prevent the tears that began to fall down her face as she bowed her head dejectedly, like his own encouragement had ironically shaken her very foundation. He couldn't remember when his hand had drifted down the small of her back, only that it felt natural to pull her closer. She let him. Alarmingly small she was, crumpled so easily inside his arms, burrowed so deep against his chest, he could feel every sharp inhale and sobs. Kakashi permitted himself to wonder, as he knelt there paralyzed with a need to tilt her chin up and kiss her, if this desire outweighed all the doubts he had about about their possible future. Still, he settled for holding her tighter, his arms solely for her comfort till she no longer needed them.

"I'd have you know, that you're being considered for hokage.." Tsunade waited, not looking up from the document she'd been signing, for his inevitable reply.

"I'm honored, Hokage-sama, but I'd have to decline."

The older woman groaned before settling her pen down. "Knew you'd say that."

He scoffed. "Look, I know I'm bored, but I'm not that bored." Really, it had grown hilarious to him, that people thought a man who had lacked the attentiveness to steward his own students closely, had never displayed interest in politics,would be perfect for a job that demanded he accomplish that and more, while chained to a desk.

"Well, you weren't exactly the first choice. The committee has eyed Sakura to succeed me as rokudaime for awhile now."

"Sakura?" A pause, and then a confused look.

It seemed his startled expression incited the hokage who now raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't look so shocked, she's my apprentice after all. Naturally the most reasonable candidate, don't you think?"

"I don't doubt her abilities," Kakashi defended. "Just surprised the elders were open-minded enough to consider her despite her age." And yet something was up. "So she's been ruled out?"

"She turned it down. That young lady is half-possessed in her rehabilitation program..nothing can sway her away from it." Tsunade smirked, looking visibly proud anyway.

Kakashi was impressed himself; turning down the highest of promotion only came easy for him with no small amount of jadedness. But Sakura had done so for an entirely more noble reason. "If that's her decision, I think she made the right one."

"Exactly why I think you'd be a better fit." Tsunade clasped both hands as she leaned back on her chair. "I'm glad we're on the same page!"

"But—my decision still stands," Kakashi affirmed with his best impression of finality. "Isn't it about time we let Naruto? He's your most willing candidate.."

"Willingness doesn't mean ready. Naruto's making marked improvements, but the boy has a long way to go.."

"That's that then.." he said, attempting to clinch the discussion. Realizing that now was a perfect time to make a polite exit, he cleared his throat to compose a likely presumptuous 'Would that be all?' but Tsunade's face turned grim, setting her elbows back on the table.

"I'll be honest with you, Kakashi," she spoke again. "The elders are quite insistent about this, and won't take no for answer."

"Of course." He smirked sarcastically, but suspicion and a tinge of worry suddenly skulked inside him as he took a step closer, hand now resting at the edge of the hokage's table."And what about Sakura's decision?"

"That's the thing.."Tsunade's eyes casted sideways for a moment, before looking back at him. "They don't exactly know about her refusal.. yet, but—"

With an exasperated sigh, Kakashi stepped back from the table, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. God, did he hate politics.

"But—" the hokage intoned more firmly against the small humorless laugh that escaped him. "—I've convinced the elders to consider you too. I'm only extending you the right to say no because you've been through the ringer."

This piqued him enough to drop his gaze back to the hokage as Tsunade took queue to continue. "I gave Sakura the semblance of a choice because I was certain I'd satisfy the committee by offering a good second option." The hokage's face was stern, looking as unyielding as her words.

"So, without one, she'd have to accept?" It was hardly a question; he now understood perfectly what was at stake.

But as conflicted as Tsunade was known to be at times, her posture slackened into something more defeated. "Look, I'm not forcing you to take up this mantle," she admitted weakly. The hokage then began massaging her forehead and started to anxiously prattle on about the likelihood of finding another viable candidate. Kakashi hardly heard her words after and must've remained silent still, for the older woman sat up straighter on her chair. "My apologies, it's not your burden. I just thought to try in case—"

"I'll do it." How the words spilled out surprised him more than Tsunade's astounded face could ever convey. Even more so the conviction that came with it.

"You'll do a great job, Kakashi. I don't doubt that." The hokage wore a satisfied smile that slowly curved into something softer. "And..thank you."

He merely replied with a shrug; he was likely to only pale in comparison amongst the greats already carved in that mountain. But he'd do his best.

A rumor in Konoha could put a pathogen to shame. Perhaps it was the fact he had seen people close to him end up on the wrong end of the village's hunger for gossip, that he found himself chuckling from a tree, as he marveled at what was an unprecedented amount of people gawking at the unfinished carving of his head on the mountain. Rumor has it that his bare face would soon be carved into the gigantic monument, and Kakashi thought it fun to fuel speculations by not denying the rumors. After all, no other Hokage's bust had garnered this much interest—he would achieve that feat at the very least.

"So I guess it's true." Sakura's voice startled him from where he was perched, that he lost his grip on his Icha-Icha, his hands fumbling uselessly before sending the paperback diving to the ground. She caught it. And Kakashi now had to hoist himself down, finding little choice but to retrieve his literature himself.

"I'm not saying anything. You'd just have to be there at the inauguration," he replied with a stretched out hand.

"I didn't mean your face, baka." Sakura found it fit to return his book with a firm slap to his gut instead, that he feigned a small grunt. "Shishou told me you're to be the rokudaime. I didn't quite believe it until I saw this whole circus." She gestured towards the large traffic of people, that only seemed to grow busier by the hour.

"Well, it looks like it." The reality sinking in further as he glanced at the monolith construction.

"But I thought you hated this kinda' thing.." A trace of concern marred her slightly furrowed eyebrows as she examined him intently.

"Why would you think that? I almost became hokage once, remember?"

"You just don't seem the type to accept so willingly.."

"Did the godaime tell you that?"

"No, she didn't say much." She looked genuinely confused to Kakashi's relief; he'd hate to burden her with the full truth and he was sure Tsunade felt the same.

But she worried for him, and that was enough to put a smile in his face, content to rediscover the ease of their friendship even as her confession—her kiss, remained a looming figure in the corner. Sometimes pretending was the best way to move on.

"Bet you didn't expect my face to be such a tourist attraction, hmm?" There was an inadvertent low drawl to his words that made it sound more playful than the self-deprecating quip he was going for. To his small surprise, she appeared unflustered, snorting her disapproval at him instead that he arched an eyebrow, challenging. "Don't tell me you're not even a bit curious?" There was a time, Kakashi remembered, when he would have been relieved than a little slighted by her casual brush off. It felt like ages ago.

With chin up, Sakura looked poised for a comeback. "Well I—" But there it was—that blush he didn't know he had coveted, and before she could speak, or hopefully fluster further, a boisterous voice broke out from across the field, and with such unmatched jubilance, it could only belong to one person.

"Is it true?!" Naruto thrusted himself in front of his face the moment he got close, forcing Kakashi to take a step back. "Sakura-chaaan, you know what this means," he beamed wide-eyed, grin suddenly impish. "My bet is still fish lips. How about you?" Naruto nudged her with his elbow, and it was then that Sakura finally gave a smirk of mischief. It kindled a nostalgic warmth in him as he observed the two conspire together like the kids they used to be (sans their third less willing accomplice). Relenting, Kakashi eventually let out a small laugh.

At the day of his inauguration, a massive tarp covered the finished sculpture. After Tsunade formally inducted him as her successor, the veil on the mountain finally came off with a large thud on the clearing below. There was a collective gasp that echoed across the sky as the multitude of eyes stared at the stoned and still stubbornly masked face of their new rokudaime. The booing came a few seconds after and Kakashi grinned proudly like it was music to his ears.

"Don't make me regret this, Kakashi." Tsunade shook her head unamused.

He gave her a hearty wink. "Don't you mean, Hokage-sama?"