Author's Notes: In which a complication arises and something must be done. Only two more chapters! How will this end up?!
xxxxx
Chapter 5: Dreaming About the Things that We Could Be
Lately I been, I been losing sleep
Dreaming about the things that we could be
I feel the love
And I feel it burn
Everything that kills me makes me feel alive
We'll be counting stars
Counting Stars by OneRepublic
xxxxx
Sakura grinned, approving of his answer, and he smiled right back at her. When he sat up she restrained herself from reaching out to grasp onto the back of his jacket, to prevent him from leaving so soon, prevent him from bursting the pleasant bubble they had formed around themselves.
Instead of leaving, he pulled her up with him and began to dance, on the comforter draped on her roof under the blanket of stars burning away above them. Sakura tilted her head back and giggled gleefully, counting the bright spinning dots poking holes through the blackness of the night.
She had reached out for his hand without properly calculating the possible reactions and consequences of such a thing, of the possible rejection and hurt she might had brought upon herself, by reaching out to him in a way that he maybe couldn't respond in kind to. Instead, he accepted her touch, and even reciprocated a little of his own.
Sakura couldn't say how exactly she felt; there were no words to properly fit her feelings and emotions. It didn't bother her so much, though, because there was one thing she knew for sure: she was happy. Sasuke had rendered her livid and distressed enough to cry – Kakashi filled her with contentment and she craved his presence. She figured that had to mean something, but it didn't yet concern her to delve further into her psyche and find out exactly what.
They twirled and twirled on the rooftop and Sakura lost herself in it, uncaring of the small space they had as their dance floor, and she hugged herself tighter and tighter to her former sensei's body.
It was a rare thought for Sakura to wonder what lie beneath Kakashi's garb, but seeing as his outline was pressed against hers, she couldn't help but speculate. The only bodily contact they had was when Sakura's life was in danger and he was able to swoop in and save her, which happened a few times during the war. To press themselves against one another willingly was more enjoyable than Sakura could have ever imagined. It was a thoroughly relaxing and comforting experience and she only wished it could last forever.
As they danced, Kakashi twirled her before snapping her back flush to his body, a yo-yo he cherished much too much to even think of letting go.
Their pace slowed and when Kakashi's hands trailed up from her waist to her face, Sakura grew curious. His back bowed and eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in and her heart thudded abruptly in her chest, suddenly overflowing with uncertainty and shock. A kiss? This was unlike Kakashi, to express emotion, to feel anything and actively pursue it.
Sakura dug the heels of her hands into his chest against the pressure of him. Unable to push away, she lost balance, and tumbled backward off the roof with a clipped scream.
She jerked awake with a yelp, instinctively checking her head and limbs for injuries. When she discovered there were none and she had caught her breath, she hung her head in her hands. The bedside clock glared a mean 4AM at her.
She flopped back onto her plushy pillows with a huge sigh, pink hair flaring out on all sides.
A dream, she thought toward the ceiling. Only a dream.
The strangest thing, though, was not that it had been a dream – it was that, in some part of her, she had liked it.
Rolling over onto her side, she stared up through the only window in her bedroom, and in seeing the stars, fell asleep with a giddy smile.
xxxxx
The mirror above the bathroom sink reflected Kakashi's creased visage with a harsh crystal clarity that slapped him in the wee hours of the morning. His hair was sleep-rumpled and slight bags hung purple and shriveled under his eyes. His shoulders hunched as he stared into the irises of his double, blinking in sleepy expectation as if to draw out some sort of answer from this other Kakashi. His eyes flickered down to his right hand and he gazed at it, in wonder as well as hesitation.
In the grand scheme of things, it was a trivial happening. She wanted to hold his hand, for whatever reason she had, and he obliged. In the moment it didn't seem that strange, but now that he was back down to earth (figuratively and literally), he tried to scrutinize it for what it really was. The only problem, though, was that he didn't know where to begin.
He'd been taking much pleasure in Sakura's companionship – that much was blatantly true and wholly undeniable. The promise of her daily notes made his days brighter and the thought of occupying her couch as they chatted was a fond one as well. But what did it mean? Anything? Nothing? Everything?
Decoding emotions was never his strong suit. He didn't grow up feeling; he grew up fighting. He would rather ignore them and carry on with the important things in life, but he was finding that those two were beginning to collide and he could do nothing to stop it.
He liked Sakura, as a previous student and a seasoned kunoichi. But this feeling was beyond that. The trouble was…should he do anything with it, and if so, what?
He scrubbed a hand down his face and shuffled back to bed, eyes avoiding the clock perched on his nightstand, though the neon number were very tempting to look at. Sitting heavily on the mattress, his head tipped up and he saw the blanket of stars watching over the village. Despite the turbulence ravaging his thoughts, he smiled.