Alone
Kakashi had been a shinobi from a very young age. He had been a weapon for his village, had learned what it meant to be a part of a team, had lost people dear to him to people like him.
And he had perfected his mask. Not the one that he wore to hide his face, but the other mask; a careful nonchalance, an unflappable, oblivious attitude.
Most of his emotions stayed behind that mask, not amusement or mocking, no, but emotions that could leave you vulnerable, that given time could break even the strongest of man: fear, pain, grief and just how deeply he cared.
And, maybe that had been a large part of his mistake.
Perhaps, if he had shown his students more of himself - had given them more of himself - their little team would have been stronger for it and he would not have been left alone while all three of his students became students to the Sannin instead. Perhaps he wouldn't have lost Sasuke to his thirst for revenge, perhaps he would have been able to guide Naruto on the path of becoming a better ninja, perhaps Sakura could have flourished under his teachings as well.
But that chance was lost. Naruto had left with Jiraiya, Sakura was learning to become a medic-nin and Sasuke… Sasuke…
And he was alone.
No longer fulfilling his role as a jounin-sensei, he was back to taking A or S ranked missions. Some of them with a team or partner, some of them alone. This was just another solo-mission, but on his way back…
Kakashi knew better than believing in the illusion of safety that the crossing of the borders might have signified to a greener shinobi. He had learned to expect the unexpected, so he hadn't been caught off guard. But it was galling, to pull of a dangerous mission successfully only to be attacked by a different group of foreign shinobi in his own country.
And he stood, alone, against three foreigners, who had dared cross the borders into Fire Country and attack a Konoha shinobi.
This wouldn't normally be a problem, but his mission had taken its toll on him so he hadn't been at full strength even at the start, and they were decent fighters, not quite up to his level, but good.
Alone against three jounin, who were no where near as tired as he had been.
Alone, but he had won.
Barely.
Afterwards, he had tried to make his way to where he remembered a village was supposed to be, but his vision had started swimming and eventually his legs couldn't seem to hold up any longer and he had finally collapsed.
Now he was once again fighting to stay on his feet, to take just one more step, and then one more… keep going…
"Ano, Kakashi-san?"
Too tired to reply or to turn and face her he just staggered on. Until he walked into an obstacle.
Automatically he stopped, and it took only a moment for him to identify what was holding him back: a small, sure hand.
"Hmm… I think we should take a little rest."
He blinked, surprised. And not just because she was bold enough not to make that sound like a question, but an order. No, he was surprised that she had so casually dared to lay a hand on his chest. He was still a shinobi.
But he was in no state to protest. So he half-lay, half-sat against a tree, allowing his body the rest it craved while he saw and heard her gather twigs around him. She easily managed a small fire, which she used to prepare an herbal tea he had become familiar with during the short time he had consciously spent in her presence.
She was a strange person, this Kagome. A contradiction of soft and fierce that seemed as odd for a civilian as it would have been for a shinobi. Most civilians weren't this open, this… casual around shinobi. Even the villagers of Konoha, who were used to their presence, still retained a hint of cautiousness around them.
The people of her own village weren't used to ninja. The only times such an out of place village, on the edge of Fire Country, would have been frequented by shinobi was during times or preparations of war.
And war was never kind or pretty. It always left death, blood, pain and emptiness in its wake.
To the people of her village shinobi meant danger and violence and they had wanted nothing to do with any of that. And because they had never had much contact with Konoha, they didn't see how the fact that they were still officially a part of Fire Country meant that they owed him – as one of Konoha's shinobi – their aid. It wasn't uncommon for civilians to be ungrateful for the sacrifice their country's shinobi make for them. They wanted their protection without having anything to do with them. To be honest, by now, he was cynical enough that it barely made him blink.
He had been told to leave and hadn't fought them on it. It wasn't worth getting into a physical fight over, not while they were still Fire Country civilians and he a loyal Konoha shinobi. And if they truly wanted him gone, he couldn't afford to stay. Not in a village that might wish him harm if he refused to leave. Not while he was vulnerable and alone.
Then she had quietly informed him she would come with him. And Kakashi had protested, unwilling to admit that he needed the help. Besides, even after days spent vulnerable, barely conscious in her care, he couldn't help but remain cautious. But she had insisted that since her village had turned him away in such a weakened state and because he had been in her care ever since she found him, she would take responsibility and help him get home.
"Here." A warm brew was gently pressed against his hand.
A small nod was all he gave her in return when he accepted the tea. He had barely spoken to her, especially about himself. She knew only his name and that he was a shinobi from Konoha.
He was a stranger to her.
He guarded himself closely, his weakened state making him reluctant to talk, afraid to give something away and leave him even more vulnerable to her. Thankfully, she allowed him his silence, and asked him only about directions or his opinion on where to make camp.
In the evening, over a scarce but warm meal, she would tell him with her soft, gentle voice about how Yuki had taken a frog home one day and how the boy's parents hadn't realised it until the following day, when the animal had wandered off from Yuki's improvised little frog-bed and ended up in his parent's bedroom. Or she would speak of a friend called Sango, who had tried to teach her how to defend herself and how their first lesson ended with both of them falling into a nearby creek due to her clumsiness.
The stories she told him were always light-hearted. Little anecdotes she told with fondness and a slight longing, but they never touched on anything serious.
She was still a stranger to him as well.
With a sigh he got to his feet again. At this pace his return journey would be a long one. It would be a while before he saw those welcoming gates of Konoha again.
But, strangers or not, for now he was just grateful that he was not making that journey alone.
A.N. So, this story will be more like a collection of little 'glimpses' - one-shots or vignettes - than a fully-fledged chaptered story… I'm pretty bad at those and don't want this to become a chore. For me, this is a story I can work on when I just want to be writing anything.
