A/N: GUYS I AM SO SORRY ABOUT HOW LONG THIS IS TAKING. DON'T WORRY, I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN THIS FIC AND I FULLY INTEND TO GET MY ACT TOGETHER AND UPDATE MORE OFTEN NOW. SO PLEASE DO SUBSCRIBE TO THIS FIC IF YOU'RE ENJOYING IT, BECAUSE IT'S NOT OVER YET.
ONE MORE THING YOU NEED TO KNOW BEFORE YOU READ ON: "ICHI" "NI" AND "SAN" ARE THE JAPANESE WORDS FOR "ONE" "TWO" AND "THREE" RESPECTIVELY.
Sakura was relieved to hear that she would be discharged only two days after Ino's visit. Ever since the blonde had revealed her secret, the hospital room had seemed duller than ever. Kakashi continued to sleep most of the time; partly exhausted, partly ashamed to even look at her wan appearance and rapidly-healing bruise. She had tried to reassure him of her well-being and engage him in lighter conversation, but the attempts inevitably fell flat. Being stuck together without a mission to discuss or Naruto and Sai to break the tension brought about an uncomfortable realisation: they knew nothing about each other.
Sure, they knew the superficial facts that anyone could read on their public records, and they had years of shared memories of missions. But their background information and various little quirks had rarely been discussed; and to start now, after roughly a decade of knowing one another, seemed far too awkward. Kakashi had always been less-than forthcoming with personal details, and had made it clear from his very first encounter with Team Seven that he didn't much care about other peoples' either. It was a sad thing for Sakura to realise, but unfortunately it seemed too late to repair the rift in their relationship.
Tsunade was giving her a last-minute lecture as she packed her things.
"Now, when I say you've got two-week's leave for recovery, I mean for you to actually recover. Don't overuse you chakra. Don't use it at all, if you can help it."
"Not even to train?" Sakura asked, glancing up from her bag. Truthfully, it wasn't training she had in mind; but Tsunade didn't need to know that.
Her mentor scowled. "Just focus on getting your stamina back up before you go wasting all of it in exercises. Overexert yourself now and you'll just end up straight back here again."
Kakashi sat up in the opposite bed. "Hokage-sama, can I leave too if I promise I won't come back?"
Sakura laughed but Tsunade's scowl deepened as she turned on the jounin. "I'm not keeping you in hospital because I enjoy hearing you complain about how bored you are, Kakashi. You are a patient, and therefore will stay here exactly as long as I deem necessary. You're lucky you're alive getting this treatment at all. Perhaps you could use this time to contemplate that."
Kakashi's head drooped in a respectable impression of a kicked puppy. "You're right, Tsunade-sama. I should be grateful for everything the medics have done for me." He glanced at Sakura, who immediately regretted all her previous frustration over him. She might not know much about her former sensei, but she did know how much he hated hospitals. And after her experience with the sharingan, she felt she might understand why. He wasn't a medic, after all; his usefulness ended at the door, but the crisis didn't. She wondered how many people Kakashi had seen enter the hospital and not come out again, with nothing he could do to prevent it.
"Don't worry Kakashi," she smiled cheerfully, "I'll come visit you tomorrow if you like. I'll bring you something to read." Her silver-haired captain regarded her curiously, perhaps wondering about her sudden attitude-change. She had been practically jumping at the opportunity to leave the little room behind, and now she was promising to return the very next day.
"Thank you, Sakura-chan," he gave his eye-crinkle smile that Sakura could never fully believe in, but she simply waved goodbye. Clearly he wasn't expecting to see her again, but she would prove she was true to her word.
"Damn it!"
Sakura stood in front of her full-length bedroom mirror, waving away the smoke from her most recently-dissipated henge. She had been practising for so long that her tiny one-bedroom flat looked like it was on fire, and she could hardly see her reflection through the haze.
Cracking a window to let the smoke out, she re-read the scrap of paper Ino had given her. Hastily written in the blonde's handwriting was the following list:
Ino's tips for creating a civilian henge:
1. Change the most important features, like eye and hair colour and hair length and style, but don't change every little detail; things like height and face shape end up being too difficult to make consistent.
2. Don't make your disguise stand out too much. Keep your alter-ego simple and convincing, just like you would on a mission.
3. Practise it until you can do it the same way every time.
4. Don't leave or return home wearing the henge. Find somewhere neutral and private to change, like an alley or public bathroom. That way nobody can link it back to you.
5. DON'T TELL ANYBODY WHO YOU REALLY ARE. If anyone finds out, we won't be able to keep doing this (it's my secret too, don't forget!). Once you've mastered the civilian henge, destroy this piece of paper. Good luck, Forehead.
Ino had written it down after explaining her secret to coping with ninja life. Sakura had stared, open-mouthed, as her friend formed the seals for a henge-no jutsu and temporarily became a brown-eyed girl with freckles and short auburn hair. She admitted to donning the disguise and pretending to be a civilian on her free evenings. Every now and then, usually after a long mission when Ino had been working non-stop, she liked to adopt the alter-ego and act like any other person for a few hours. She'd fashioned a name that wasn't an old clan title, created memories that didn't revolve around fighting and training, even made some civilian friends; all of which helped to ease the burden that ninjutsu could sometimes become.
Sakura's first reaction had been surprise, then a feeling of betrayal. Why had Ino felt the need to lie to her best friend- to everyone?
"How long have you been doing this?" she asked, and the hurt was detectable in her tone.
Ino had been quick to reassure her. "When I started last year, I only did it once or twice a month, if that. It was mostly just for fun, when my free time didn't coincide with anyone else's. It's only within the last few weeks that I've started getting serious about it. I would have told you sooner, but I- well, I guess I was ashamed that I'd come to rely on my civilian identity so much, when you and the others seemed to cope so well on your own." She ran an anxious hand through her long hair, and Sakura reflected on her words. Even though her parents were civilians, that lifestyle had seemed closed off since her first day at the ninjutsu academy. If what Ino said was true, then it would actually be possible to get away with a few hours of peace and normality… and wasn't that exactly what she had been craving?
And that was how she found herself practising her henge no jutsu in her bedroom that evening. She'd read Ino's instructions a dozen times already, but her studious nature wouldn't allow her to destroy the slip of paper until her disguise was perfect. She had an idea of how she wanted to look in her mind, but creating it was proving trickier than she thought. It was different on missions, when other people could be copied outright. But this disguise had to be an entirely new creation, similar enough to herself that it would stay consistent, but different enough that nobody would notice.
She'd thought Ino's second rule would be easy; after all, she'd spent her whole life 'standing out' and had no intention of keeping her bubblegum-pink hair. But once it had been changed to an unassuming black-brown, she'd realised what a corruptive power henge-no-jutsu could be. All the little things she disliked about herself, she suddenly had the power to change. More than once she'd had to fight the temptation to remake herself in the likeness of film stars and feudal princesses.
Eventually she found a henge that stuck; it was practical, easy to repeat, and different enough that not even Ino would know it was her straightaway. Her new dark hair fell down her back in soft waves that she could never naturally achieve. Her emerald eyes were unfortunately too conspicuous and had to be darkened to match her hair. Her height remained the same, though her lean body softened into something expected of a civilian. She stood before the mirror a moment longer, admiring her more feminine looks. Sakura had always loved dressing up and taking care of her appearance, but ever since those scathing remarks about her hair during her first chuunin exam, she been afraid of femininity being labelled as weakness. Hence, the idea of anonymity was oddly freeing. She wondered why she hadn't thought to do this years ago.
Slipping down a dark street as one person and out the other end as someone completely different was a curious sensation. She was right on the unofficial border between ninja and civilian areas. There was no real distinction or prohibition between the two groups; but people were naturally attracted toward those they shared commonalities with. Hence the wide cobbled path she meandered along eventually passed under a wooden red arch into a different-looking part of town. Weapon stores and fast food places morphed into grocery markets and intimate bistros. The nightlife was still as busy as ever, though the pedestrians wore far brighter and less practical clothing. Sakura had considered wearing her own 'special occasion' jewellery her mother had given her, but knew Haruno Takara would have recognised it the instant she walked into The Blossom.
Still, she grinned. It felt better than she'd ever expected, walking along the jewel-bright streets and feeling like she belonged there. Nobody stared at her hair or clothes, or associated her with battle and grief. Her recent anguish melted off her with each step, and the stubborn knot of pain the sharingan had left her was temporarily lost under layers of excitement and joy.
Unfortunately, she had been so worried about being recognised as a ninja that she hadn't considered any other obstacles to enjoying her night. It was several blocks from her destination, as she meandered down a narrow shortcut, that one such obstacle decided to meet her.
Rounding a corner, she found her path blocked by three men standing in a ring. There was a shadowy bundle on the ground between them, and as Sakura watched, it whimpered.
"Now that we've cleared the wax out of your ears, you might be a bit more obliging about answering our questions," the tallest man sneered, leaning forward with his fists raised. "Or do we need to repeat ourselves one more time?" He lunged forward, and Sakura could feel her body moving of its own accord.
"Stop!" she commanded, striding into their midst. She glared at the trio, enraged. They stared back, perhaps wondering why an unarmed woman had been foolhardy enough to interfere. After a moment, the tall man took a step toward her, hands still balled into fists.
Sakura tensed, preparing to meet him with her own surprising strength. Her henge would give her an unexpected advantage- they wouldn't be expecting a civilian to put up much of a fight- and so she continued to maintain it.
The man was almost within striking distance when the shortest of the three called out to him. "That's enough, San. This little mouse doesn't look like she's going to go scurrying back to her hole any time soon." This was obviously their leader. Despite being the smallest, he carried himself with a haughty, princely air. The taller man stopped immediately, though he continued to scowl at Sakura.
"Forgive my friend's rudeness," the leader smiled, but it was predatory and cold, "San has always lacked a gentle touch, especially when it comes to beautiful women. He would simply love to pluck the petals off a flower like you." The last man of the group laughed while San growled.
"Ichi-sama, she's seen too much."
"You see what I mean about gentleness?" Ichi sighed, shaking his head. "There was no reason to scare our new friend like that, you know."
"Let the man on the ground go," Sakura finally spoke up, and there was no trace of fear in her voice. Ichi raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Are you going to make us, little mouse?"
"If I have to," she replied, sliding her right foot back into a better fighting stance. She had been analysing the situation from the moment she decided to get involved. Their victim didn't seem too badly injured that he couldn't escape if an opportunity arose, and Sakura's first priority was to ensure that it did. A small part of her was disappointed that her night as a civilian would be over before it even began, but she pushed the thought aside. No matter what disguise she wore, she would always be a kunoichi underneath it.
"So be it," the man shrugged, pulling a long knife from a fold in his shirt. The other man, whose name Sakura didn't know but suspected would be "Ni," began to laugh again.
"Ahem."
The quiet voice came from just behind her and caught Sakura unawares. She spun around to face the newcomer, and when she saw the familiar mop of silver hair, her henge nearly failed from the shock.
Kakashi stood before them, his one visible eye travelling between the men and the girl. "Am I interrupting?"
"As a matter of fact-" the nameless man snapped, before his voice was cut off by Ichi's fist in his gut. As he doubled over wheezing, the other two men watched the jounin warily. Kakashi wore the Konoha forehead protector that clearly labelled him as a shinobi, and the three men must have understood that the tables had quite seriously turned. But Sakura thought there was something deeper in the leader's expression, something closer to hate than fear. The way he stared at Kakashi made her shiver in spite of herself.
Kakashi's attention had been fixed on the trio of troublemakers, but when the young woman trembled, he turned to her in concern.
"It's alright now, miss," he assured her, "you're safe."
There was a rustling noise and before Kakashi's dulled reflexes could respond, the men had run off while his focus was diverted. Within moments there was no trace that they had been there at all. The man lying on the ground had also disappeared.
"You let them get away!" The woman cried in dismay.
Kakashi blinked. He had expected a little more gratitude, considering he had probably saved her life. But shock affected everyone differently, and he had learned to never expect a reward for simply doing the right thing.
"I know. But I expect I'll meet up with them again before too long," his tone was cheerful, but he was determined to make sure that he did, for the sake of the civilians of Konoha. He didn't need to be a mind-reader to know what might have become of the girl if he had arrived just a few minutes too late.
"That was pretty brave of you, standing up to them like that," he told her, and her face grew pale.
"Thanks," she mumbled, suddenly unable to look him in the eye, "but I couldn't really have done anything."
"That's nothing to be ashamed of," he said, "I'm a ninja; I've trained for years to deal with thugs like them." Slowly, not wanting to frighten her, Kakashi took half a step closer. "Are you sure you're alright? I'm no medic, but apparently after something like that your body could go into shock without you even realising."
This made the woman smile, as though he had reminded her of an old joke. He watched her with surprise and increasing concern. "Perhaps I ought to take you to the hospital."
This got Sakura's attention. "No, I'm fine! I'm just a little shaken up I guess." In truth, she had been worrying about Kakashi discovering her true identity; which would have been mortifying after he had been so nice to her. But it seemed without the Sharingan he was no better at identifying her supressed chakra signature than the average shinobi. It was strange to have her old sensei talk to her like she was a stranger (especially a pretty one), and having her own medical advice repeated back to her had been stranger still.
But despite that, it almost felt like she was meeting Hatake Kakashi for the first time. And this time it wasn't some boy-crazy student meeting her elite-but-aloof sensei; it was a man meeting a woman. They were equals, in a way they had never seemed before. Even long after she had outgrown him as a teacher, she still felt as though she were running to catch up to his legend. It had been different with Naruto and Sasuke; she knew Kakashi felt they had surpassed him in ways he had never expected. But she was no clan prodigy or child of prophecy. And so for the longest time she had told herself to forget The Great Copy Nin, because he would never see her the way he saw his other, greater students. It had seemed they would be destined to drift apart for good; but destiny seemed to have its own ideas. She made a decision then, and extended her hand before she could change her mind.
"I'm Umeko, by the way," she introduced herself, using her fake name with a genuine smile.
He gently shook her hand. "Kakashi."
"Kakashi-san, I'm absolutely starving, and I was just on my way to get dinner. Would you like to join me?" She almost hoped he would refuse. It would be much easier to just walk away and let the opportunity pass her by. But another, more stubborn part of her wanted to get to know Hatake Kakashi before they became completely estranged.
Kakashi considered the lady's proposal, weighing the benefits of sharing a meal with a pretty stranger against his generally anti-social nature. He had snuck out of the hospital that night hoping to find some interesting distraction; and Umeko did seem very interesting. There was something unusual about her, but it didn't make him feel uneasy. What are you hesitating for? He asked himself. Don't pretend you haven't already decided.
"I'd love to."