A/N: I haven't updated this in a while. I was working on SoG when I was hit with this and it couldn't be ignored. Not beta'd so all mistakes are mine. Please leave a review if you'd like - they are always welcome. Enjoy!

Kakashi wasn't as big of a mystery as everyone perceived. The aloof attitude, the vague answers, the mask – simply defenses, but simple defenses to those close to him. He liked to believe that people only knew things about him that he chose to let them know. They knew that he adored his brightly-backed literature, that he had a single Sharingan eye, that many people close to him were long gone from the world and that he visited the cenotaph – visited them – every day he could.

Those close to him knew he lived alone in a simple, single-bedroom pad that was barely furnished. Who needed furniture when you were out on missions the majority of the year? He didn't date, for the same reason he didn't have furniture. He used to smoke. He occasionally liked to imbibe his favorite brew – either alone or with company.

But those that knew him knew he preferred to drink with them. And Sakura was no exception to that minuscule group.

As his student she learned of his passion and his fierce determination to protect his cherished ones, even if it meant his life. She learned how deep his knowledge and repertoire of jutsu went and how magnificent he was in his craft.

As a med-nin she learned his blood type, that the Sharingan ate away at his chakra, that his body was littered with more scars than she had imagined.

As his friend she learned he disliked tempura and sweets and could be won over by some nicely grilled saury (or some new edition of Icha Icha). He had a sense of humor – as odd as it was – and a nice laugh.

She also learned things about him that he didn't want her to.

Like the nights he spent in the hospital on the verge of a coma from over exertion and depletion of his chakra. Those nights he laid there sweating, trembling, crying… He was so much more fragile than anyone, even himself, believed. There were times he muttered apologies or demanded answers. There was the time he awoke and called Sakura by the name of Rin.

Sakura once believed that Kakashi was at his scariest on the battlefield with his adrenaline pumping and a thousand screaming birds echoing as he charged his opponent. But he was the scariest when those around him were hurt and guilt his in his eyes, because that was something she rarely saw in the usually confident man.

Kakashi learned things about Sakura, too, as it usually happened in any kind of relationship.

As a teacher he learned she had potential but was, in his opinion, hopeless. Well, until she started training under Tsunade, that is. He thought perhaps she hadn't been hopeless after all, rather he had not been the appropriate teacher for her and that he had been the hopeless one.

As a comrade he learned of her strength – and not just the physical. Yes, decimating forests and creating craters in the earth with a single punch was impressive (and terrifying), but continuing on her path even with the disapproval of her parents took strength as well.

He hadn't known her parents had argued against her decision to become a ninja those years ago. She was a determined soul that found a real reason to do the things she did, and it was no longer for a boy. Though she sometimes got the short end of the stick, she didn't complain. She understood that everything she did served a greater purpose.

Not only could her hands bruise, but they could heal.

As a patient he learned how gentle she could be in sternness. In many experiences before, other's chakra was invasive and unpleasant, but hers was calm and flowed from a tender touch. She was quick, precise and efficient, skilled. And he considered himself lucky.

Sakura was a wonderful medic who was tolerant, even given her quick temper which often helped with some of the more unruly patients. She was strongly dedicated and she cared deeply for people, which sometimes came back to haunt her.

As a friend he learned how hard she fell when she wasn't able to save a life and the many ways she dealt with it. Kakashi didn't handle tears well and at first, he appreciated that she didn't come to him to break and cry. But then there came a day when she did and he found that he didn't mind as much as he thought.

He learned that even though she could heal even the most fatal of wounds and diminish the possibility of scars, she chose to let significant ones stay – like the one on her abdomen from when she fought against Sasori.

And when their relationship shifted again, he learned she had more scars than he knew about.

As lovers they learned about ticklish spots (like hers on the back of her thigh and his just below his armpit) and spots that elicited surprise pleasure (like a kiss to her knee or a sensual rub of his ear). They learned the dips of muscle, the rise of fine hairs, the sighs and moans – those delicate sounds when something felt far too good. They learned how each other's bodies shuddered and trembled in delight. They learned to read, to taste, and to feel one another.

He learned he was selfish. He didn't want to share her with anyone and he found that he didn't have to give much, but she gave a lot. And they were both okay with that.

She learned she was a wishful thinker, a dreamer. All she ever wanted was for someone to hold her back. When she turned her back and his arms circled her, she knew that what they shared was perfect.

Even if within that perfection came quarrels, and flying objects, and sparring matches, and harsh words.

At the end of the day he still chose her, and she still chose him.

And they'd return to those places that made their bodies quake and their hearts race.

Neither of them would say it aloud, but they both knew it indubitably that they were loved. And they were both okay with that.