Kakashi woke up at four in the morning and hated it.
He turned, then turned again, and yet failed to find peace. Naruto refused to leave him alone.
That brat… Kakashi rubbed his face, but the image of the teen, crying as he stared at him, lips parted and twisted in silent protest, eyes wide with fear and bone-deep anguish…
And he thought it started so well. The usual team stuck around him, talking and bantering. Ino also joined the mix as she tried to flirt with the clueless blond. It was entertaining to follow their conversation, and the fact that the four of them could have walked at the front but chose to walk with him… was not supposed to mean something, but it did. Perhaps even too much.
Then Naruto started attacking him. The teen snapped at him again –
"Poor Sensei," whispered Sakura. "Naruto flirts like a neanderthal."
Great. That only added to his irritation.
And yet, he found it hard to look away from the figure of Naruto, hunched under the weight of Ino's giant bag, as the teen took one step and then another, lost in his determination to never give up.
"Let's take a break," Sakura gasped, massaging her side. "Naruto. Oi! Naruto! We're taking a break!"
The teen did not hear her, so Kakashi stopped him with his hand. He hoped Naruto would have forgiven him by then for whatever he did that offended him, but the blond refused to look at him and shrugged off his touch. When he suggested he'd look ahead, it wasn't just because he had the best tracking skills in the group.
Naruto smelled like sweat and misery, and Kakashi had to force himself to back off.
Had he known Naruto would have yet another meltdown in his absence, he might have planned otherwise.
He was on his way back when Sasuke warned him of two strange men approaching their group. He knew better than to take any chances, so he ran –
And made it just in time. He pulled Naruto away from the threat, trying to still him and make him accept his protection, but the teen scratched his fingers and trembled with unrestrained rage. Had he released him, Kakashi was certain he would have fulfilled his threat.
Soup for crows.
'Go.' He snarled in his mind. 'Take the girls and go. Straight ahead – no turns for the next mile. We will catch up.'
Sasuke did as he was told, and Kakashi was left with a furious teen he had to – somehow – calm down.
When Naruto began regurgitating homophobic propaganda, Kakashi was not surprised. He knew the teen was harassed – by watching him, following him, and his half-hearted confessions. He did not want to probe deeper, but it made sense that Naruto would hate the part of himself that made him a target.
What didn't make sense was the way his heart constricted upon hearing those hateful words coming out of Naruto's mouth. Hate is hate, whether directed inward or outward, and Naruto hated with intense, unrestrained fury.
Kakashi chose to confess to show the teen he was not alone. It was a calculated move, not one spurred by the moment. And yet, as the words left his lips, a cavity tore open in his chest.
What if Naruto's hate could not be tamed? What if he directed it at him? Hated him?
Left him?
He always did suspect he wanted something. What if –
And then Naruto cried. His expression was of terror, regret, and agony, torn and vulnerable as he ran to him, hugging him with all the strength he had left, and begged his forgiveness.
Kakashi breathed.
He breathed in the scent of the teen as he wrapped his arms around him and hugged him closer. Naruto responded so eagerly to his touch. He allowed himself to be guided and only sought more of him. He trembled in his arms and held on.
He gazed up at him, eyes shining all too brightly, cheeks flushed, and lips parted, and said he was only looking at him before shoving him away and turning to hide his blushing face.
That must have been yet another reason for his pain; to lead such a conflicted life where the thing he wanted most desperately was the thing he detested himself for being. He only wanted to be loved.
Kakashi got up and raked his fingers through his hair.
Not by him, however. Not by him. He made that quite clear when he called Naruto a brat and a kid at every chance he got. He must have. He –
Kakashi got out of his tent, grabbed a towel, and prowled silently to the nearest body of water.
He had to clear his head.
Naruto woke up. It was early, probably, because Sasuke was still fast asleep. Naruto, however, brimmed with excitement, so he snuck out and stretched, breathing in deep the salt of the ocean and the sharpness of the pine.
The sun did not yet rise, so Naruto grabbed his notebook and the set of colored pencils Sakura lent him and searched for a good sketching point.
His legs guided him, as if by instinct, to a small pond in the middle of a clearing. No trees blocked the view, so the moment the sun started to stretch her long rays toward the sky, her light danced upon the calm water of the pond, sparkling and shimmering.
Naruto started to draw.
This trip was the first time he left town – the first time he saw a forest this big or a pond this quiet or the ocean.
At the beginning of the year, he dreaded the coming trip.
He knew he would end up alone and unwanted, without a friend to share a tent or cook dinner with. He knew his tent would be cold because he couldn't afford something good and that his dinner would be instant ramen and barely satisfying. He knew he'd be alone on the bus and alone during the hike and alone during the swim and alone –
And still, he wanted to go. He wanted to see the ocean and the forest and everything that wasn't home.
He never imagined, however, that he'd have friends who care about him and watch over him.
He never imagined someone like Sensei.
The pond began to ripple. Naruto looked up from his sketches, confused, and searched for fish, though the pond was still until that very moment. He leaned closer to the edge of the water –
And nearly fell in when his face was suddenly two inches away from another face.
Naruto stumbled back, heart beating painfully against his ribcage, and stared.
Sensei stared back.
His silver hair was pushed back, dripping water down his brow and his cheeks and his long, carved neck. His black eye met his, calm and only slightly wide, and his lips were parted, breathing quickly. He did not wear his eye patch.
Naruto could not breathe. "Are you, like," his mind was blank, "a mermaid, or something?"
Sensei blinked. "Don't you mean a merman?"
Naruto closed his eyes and shook his head as if to clear his mind. Yet, when he opened his eyes again, Sensei was still there, floating in the water and gazing at him. Naruto could not decide if his eye was curious or simply dark.
"Where did you come from? I was here since before sunrise." He leaned closer to the edge of the pond. "Didn't see you."
Sensei pointed with his chin, and Naruto looked back, blinking at the pile of clothes and a towel that he, apparently, sat next to the whole time.
"This is one of the ponds connected to the ocean through an underground tunnel," Sensei explained. "I wanted to try it out. Don't even think about it," he added quickly when Naruto dangled his foot over the edge. "Unless you can hold your breath for over a minute while swimming."
Naruto tried, but his lungs gave out after thirty seconds.
Sensei chuckled. He swam to the edge of the pond and climbed out, then walked casually to his towel.
Naruto could not look away.
He stared, eyes wide and lips parted, at everything. Sensei was built like a statue – with sculpted arms, one of which was tattooed, a firm chest, and a broad carved back. Water dripped down the hard lines of his body – every part of him was sharp and defined, harsh and unyielding. Even his legs were strong and muscular and toned, and his back tensed slightly with every step he took, powerful and pale and –
And covered with scars.
A sharp, jagged line cut through his back, crossing the distance from one shoulder blade to another. His lower back was just as marred with deep cuts and odd, round marks that looked like bullet holes. His right pectoral was slashed, and a deep cut left its ugly mark on his left shoulder, just above his heart.
He knew Sensei was capable of violence. He saw him fight – brutal and quick and efficient. He never imagined he'd also be on the receiving end, but… His eyes could not deny the history of violence the man before him had endured.
Something flicked his cheek.
Naruto winced and glowered at the acorn that fell into his lap and then at the shadow that loomed over his sketchbook.
Sensei dried himself with a towel, muzzling his hair into a right mess. "I asked, why aren't you asleep in your tent?"
Naruto blinked and flushed red as the man donned an ill-fitting shirt that clung to his wet shoulders and chest. "Dunno," he muttered. "I just woke up, and I couldn't go back to sleep." His eyes flickered, hesitant and curious, back to the man as he dried his legs.
"Turn around," he instructed.
Naruto didn't move.
Sensei cocked his brow.
Naruto grumbled, flushing a deeper shade of red, and finally realized what the man had said. He turned around and tried to pretend he was busy sketching, though his mind was focused on the sound of Sensei dressing.
"So the pajamas didn't help, I gather."
Naruto flinched when he suddenly noticed he wore the flannel set the man got him. "They do," he mumbled, self-conscious and prickly. "Seems you need 'em too if you've been swimming for longer than I've been awake," he bit. "N' don't take credit. It was my idea."
Sensei huffed. He sat next to him, gazing at the view.
And Naruto could not look away. The soft rays of the morning sun danced upon the sharp planes of his face, reflected in the tiny drops that still held on. He had yet to shave, and his cheeks shone with silver stubble that looked oddly becoming on his elegant features.
It made him look feral, and Naruto wondered if he could get away with a touch – just a small touch – to see what he felt like.
Sensei turned to look at him, his eye as deep and undecipherable as always. "Can I see?" he asked quietly.
Naruto, for some reason, blushed red. Sensei pointed to his sketchbook – and Naruto flushed even redder for being stupid. He nodded, struck dumb by the moment, and handed him the sketchbook.
Sensei hummed as he gazed at the pictures, tracing his finger over the colors. He looked at the rest – turning the pages slowly – and glanced at him. "It's like looking back in time." He moved yet another page – and revealed a sketch of long fingers framing a sculped cheekbone –
Naruto tore the sketchbook from Sensei's hands and hid the contents against his chest.
"Um," he breathed, looking down. "S'private."
Sensei nodded and ruffled his hair, then used his head to push himself up, ignoring his grumbles. "Well, we have at least two more hours before the rest of the camp wakes up. You should head back and get some sleep." He stretched. "We have another hike planned and then a swimming session."
Naruto stared as the muscles flexed and moved, trying to preserve them in his memory. "I'm not sleepy, though," he protested. "I wanna draw more."
Sensei sighed. "Well, do as you like. Try not to get eaten," he added, half-joking as he strolled toward the camp –
Naruto leaned back and grabbed his pants. "Stay."
Sensei stopped. His back looked tense again. "Uzumaki, I do require my sleep," he countered gently.
Naruto did not release his hold. "I won't do anything," he bargained. His mouth dried. "P-pretty sure you're not supposed to let students leave the campsite alone, Sensei."
Sensei turned around and gazed at him, his eye opaque and penetrating. "So I should make you go back," he pointed out.
"You'll have to drag me," Naruto countered. His bravado dissipated, however, when Sensei appeared to be considering it. "I'll gift you a picture," he offered instead, heart drumming fast. Sensei still stared, so he continued. "The sunrise one," he showed it to him, holding the notebook up just below his eyes to hide his blushing cheeks. "S'my favorite."
Sensei's chest expanded as if he suddenly needed to breathe.
He raked his fingers through his hair and lay on a lush patch of grass. "Fine. Don't bother me."
And – from what Naruto could tell – immediately fell asleep.
He turned around to sketch more of the rising sun, but his heart – and mind – constantly shifted back to the man lying behind him.
So, with an aggravated sigh, Naruto gave in and turned around.
Sensei did not move. He slept with one hand covering his eye and another resting on his stomach. One of his knees was perked up while the other leg stretched on the soft grass.
Naruto sketched him. He drew everything – the sight before him and the memories dancing in his mind – clothed and unclothed, muscle and fabric.
An idea sprung into his mind and caused him to blush deep red. He knew what his body looked like and how it moved, so it wasn't hard to imagine how he would look, lying like that, exposed and vulnerable on the soft grass and… naked.
Naruto sketched in earnest, drawing the sharp lines and sculpted planes of his chest and his legs, his toned, muscular arms, his long, jagged neck… He still, however, drew a Greek-style fabric to cover up his loins. He felt he owed the cartoon the slightest bit of modesty.
He jumped and looked up, heart racing from guilt and arousal, when Sensei moved.
He curled on his side, his hands hugging nothing, with his face buried in the space they created. He was, however, still asleep.
Naruto drew him again, cheeks flushed as he imagined himself crawling into the space between the man's arms, hugging his waist and breathing in his scent…
He drew another version, sleepy and shirtless, and added a blanket to cover his privates. His face looked gentler like that, more at peace… he wondered who Sensei was hugging in his dreams.
He looked up again – and jumped when his wandering eyes were suddenly met with a dark, black gaze.
"S-stop waking up like that!" he spluttered. "You gave me a heart attack!"
Sensei looked annoyed. "Don't yell. You're giving me a headache." He sat up – impossibly fast – and snatched Naruto's sketchbook. "And here I thought you wanted to draw the sun. Instead, you tricked me into being your model." He tried to open the book –
Naruto jumped on him. "Stop! S'private!"
Sensei evaded him and stood up, holding the sketchbook over his head and away from Naruto's reach. "Oh? If you drew me, the least you can do is show me how it came out."
He stepped back, ducked, turned, and avoided Naruto's attacks. Naruto, panicked and annoyed, started to get the feeling the man was having fun.
"Why would I draw you, you weirdo?" Naruto threw a punch and a kick combo – which got him nowhere. "Stop moving!"
"My, my," Sensei sighed. "You should not draw people without their permission, Uzumaki."
"Didn't draw you," Naruto lied.
Sensei cocked a brow. "Shall we, then?" He lowered the sketchbook and lifted his other hand to open it – Naruto used the chance to kick his legs, grab his shirt, and pull him down.
Sensei blinked as they both toppled into the ground.
Naruto closed his eyes but felt no pain. He flinched and looked up – to find Sensei leaning over him, his one black eye staring back.
One of Sensei's hands was tangled in his hair, cradling his head –probably the reason why he did not get hurt – while the other framed his side. He looked up, lips parted as he drew much-needed air, and could not look away.
"What the hell was that, Uzumaki?" Sensei muttered, leaning over him.
Naruto grinned. "I figured you wouldn't fall for any move Gai taught me, so I made up my own. Tricked ya."
Sensei glared, brow cocked. "Don't be so proud of yourself. You nearly hit your head."
Naruto still grinned. "Doesn't matter. My next move is a check and a mate." He lifted his arms to hug Sensei's neck and watched the black eye widening. Gotcha.
He lifted his knee –
Sensei balanced on his propped-up hand and lifted both knees simultaneously, digging them into Naruto's thighs and stopping his move.
Naruto winced in pain, but Sensei did not relent. "I am not falling for that again, Uzumaki."
His voice was as sardonic as always, but something shifted in the black eye. Naruto suddenly noticed he still hugged his neck and that Sensei, technically, pinned him down. And leaned over him.
His breath came out, shuddered and weak, as he relaxed into Sensei's touch. He leaned back as his eyes flickered up, meeting his black one, and he tightened his hold of the man's neck.
He did not know what he was doing, but he wanted…
Sensei smashed his sketchbook into his face.
Immediately, the pressure and the heat holding him down disappeared.
Naruto shoved the sketchbook away and rubbed his nose. "Hey! What was that for?"
"Ending the spar," Sensei muttered as he picked up his towel and swimming trunks. "You lost."
Naruto jumped up, his cheeks still red and his stomach, for some reason, burning hot. "I want a rematch. Bet I can kick your ass."
"You need at least five more years of training before you can challenge me again," Sensei replied.
Something about him felt off, cold, so Naruto pushed harder. "Just you wait, then. In five years, I'll mop the floor with you."
He caught up to him, his sketchbook held tightly around his chest, and Sensei slowed down to match his pace. "Not a very appealing offer, I must say."
Naruto pretended to think. "I'll do it in three, then." His heart clashed with his breaths. He felt like he saw something forbidden, did something forbidden, something that wasn't just playful and friendly. Something that felt like crossing a line.
His mouth dried. "You can wait three years, right?" he asked quietly.
Sensei froze. He turned sharply and glared at him. "What are you talking about, Uzumaki?"
His voice was raw, dangerous. Naruto stopped and gazed back, pale. "Um. About… a rematch? In which I kick your ass?"
The man still stared. His breaths were harsh for one moment and then calm and controlled the next. "That's a very long time," he said quietly. His voice was as guarded as he continued down the path and back to the camp. "Many things can change."
Naruto frowned as he ran after him, matching his pace. "But… you'll still be around, right?" he asked, smiling, but his voice was stark. "Like, back in Konoha or something. Right?"
Sensei did not look at him. "I go where the winds lead me," he said lightly, even though it did not sound like a joke. "I can't make any promises about the future." He waved his hand. "Well, do try to get some sleep." And walked back to his tent.
Naruto stared at his receding back, eyes wide and ears ringing hollow.
What the fuck just happened.
That was precisely what he needed. A wet towel and more memories of Naruto he had to suppress.
He decided to swim to clear his mind; he did not know what to do when the object of his forbidden thoughts materialized in front of him, so close he could fill his lungs in his scent of sun and summer, and asked him if he was a mermaid, of all things.
He agreed to stay for the same reason he agreed to almost anything the teen asked of him. Naruto's blue eyes, so open and vulnerable, were not something he could easily refuse. He should have left. He should not have indulged him. He should have –
Kakashi blinked as he almost did walk into a tree. What a life.
He brought up the rear – again – and the same four from before walked with him; again. They headed toward a large lake for a swim as swimming in the ocean near the camp was far too dangerous. The many caves and the rough seabed below made it a hazardous area, even on sunny days.
He made sure to tell them that in case they got any ideas.
Naruto, however, did not accuse him of swimming there this morning, as he expected. The teen was quiet, looking almost confused as he stared blankly at the surroundings and did not follow his friends' conversation.
Kakashi kept his distance. He did not know what the teen was confused about, but he was certain it was his fault.
He should not have teased him. The entire notion was dumb and the idea at the time – dissuade him from drawing any more pictures of him – was a flimsy excuse at best. He could lie to himself and deny that he wanted to spar with the teen – but that would be pointless. I got what I wanted, didn't I? He thought, hating himself with corrosive derision. A fucking mess.
Because there was no way Naruto knew what he was doing when he angled his head, exposing his neck and parting his lips and just looking up at him with his eyes dark and wanting. There was no way he understood the meaning of him lying, vulnerable and pinned down beneath him, smelling so fucking ripe…
They reached the lake – probably ten minutes after everyone else. Sakura and Sasuke went to a secluded spot while Naruto was dragged by Ino toward the shimmering scenery to take what must have been ten thousand pictures of her.
At that point, Kakashi felt bad for Hinata.
He found a spot with shade, sat down, and continued to read. After Naruto's reaction to his body, he decided that keeping his shirt on – and steering clear of all the teenagers around him – was the best solution possible.
Naruto did not ask him about the scars, but Kakashi could read the questions carved into his irises. He was almost tempted to tell him that this is what happens to those who do seek violence, that violence is a double-edged sword, eager to stab anything warm, that…
But he did not ask, and the silent curiosity in his eyes was marred with pain Kakashi did not want to explore.
Finally, Naruto and Ino joined their friends. They had a chicken fight and a splashing war and just a regular conversation, and it pained Kakashi to see how… normal Naruto acted when he wasn't around. He was trying so hard to help him – perhaps, too hard – and ended up confusing him.
Naruto did tell him he did not need a father. Perhaps it was just him, seeking to get the teen to notice him, to form a bond with him…
"But… you'll still be around, right?" he asked. His smile did not reach his eyes. "Like, back in Konoha or something. Right?" His voice was pained.
Which was also his fault. I made him believe I would be there for him, in wolf and human form. I promised to be his solution, knowing I would abandon him.
He remembered the teen holding on to him as a wolf, begging him not to leave.
It was only supposed to be a year. None of it was meant to last.
And yet, it had been seven months, and Kakashi did not want to let go.
The rest of the class joined the group – including Hinata, Shino, and Kiba. The final brat approached Naruto and spoke to him. When they parted, he clasped his shoulder in a friendly way, and Naruto did not seem hurt. In fact, he turned to glance at Hinata, who blushed red under his gaze, and chatted with her. Their talk was cut short – by Ino, naturally – but by the end of it, the teen looked oddly determined. He assumed that was good.
He should have known better.
Notes:
Just a tiny cliffhanger! The calm before the storm, if you will, as the next chapter is a bit self-indulging for me haha a few of my favorite cliches because why not?
BTW the whole thing with Ino was inspired by her reaction to Naruto when he came back to the village after saving it from Pein… that is, it's just a phase. And Kiba really was trying to be a wingman, not a bully! I'm writing it here because I couldn't add that piece of info to the fic without writing a whole conversation with him and I really would rather focus on Kakashi X Naruto, so you can ignore it if you like (the trouble with limited perspectives)
And… well, some of you already guessed Kakashi's mindset from the last chapter, but I still wanted to delve into it. I think he's lowkey freaking out because of Naruto's sort of confession, indicating this 'crush' isn't going anywhere and that he doesn't want to go anywhere, too.
So… what did you guys think? I really appreciate your comments, so do let me know!
See ya next Friday!
