It was nearly three in the morning by the time Naruto got home. She was tired, and stressed, and she'd been crying, and all she wanted was for her sensei to help her with all the pins in her stupid hair and then put her to bed. But no. Instead, she stood next to their dining table, reading Kakashi's words over and over.

Gone on mission. Not sure how long; check bedside drawer for grocery money. Be safe. I'll come back to you as soon as I can. Yours, -K

Her fingertip traced the the deep gouge in the page where he'd underlined his command, then the word yours. Hers. Her sensei, her Kakashi. They'd been about to kiss, she was sure of it. Her heart had been pounding in her chest, and she knew she couldn't have imagined him turning towards her when she'd kissed next to his mouth, because the swoop in her stomach when he'd done it had been so visceral. And he'd been staring at her... Hadn't he?

Maybe she'd imagined it all. Wishful thinking.

After all, he was a man, a full grown shinobi who got sent away on clandestine midnight missions, and she was a just a damaged little girl with flowers in her hair.

Naruto's eyes burned as she clenched the page in her hand, stuffing it into her pocket as she marched down the hall, past her own bedroom and into Kakashi's. She got into his bed with her boots still on, curled herself into a ball, and squeezed her eyes shut against her tears, falling asleep within minutes in her exhaustion.

…

The first few days that Kakashi was gone, Naruto was too busy to process his absence. The all-hands-on-deck nature of the emergency the village was facing had her and her peers taking over most of the basic operations of the Hokage tower, as the better trained adult employees were posted to the more urgent matters. The only good part was seeing Sasuke forced to act as a secretary—originally, that had been Naruto's role, but he'd made fun of her inability to type a little too loudly and a passing chūnin had switched their responsibilities. So she spent two fourteen hour days running documents up and down the steps of the tower, which was exhausting but probably more fun and better suited to her skillset than typing up reports all day.

She spent her precious little free time trying to process the Sandaime's death while eating instant ramen over the sink in the kitchen. He'd been the closest thing she ever had to a true guardian, maybe even a father, and like she understood many fathers to be, he'd been a disappointment. Cold and withholding, slow to praise, perpetually disapproving of Naruto and her choices... On the other hand, though, he was also the only one who ever checked on her while she was growing up. He was the one that helped her with the paperwork to enroll in the academy, and the one that advocated for her so she wouldn't be expelled when she made trouble. He'd taught her the basics of cooking, and his office door had been open to her when she needed it.

The last conversation they'd had was ugly. The Sandaime had clearly been frustrated with Naruto's lack of knowledge about what her landlord was doing when he wasn't drunk in her apartment. And every time she tried to think of her more pleasant memories of the man, she saw the pain in his eyes as he held his temple and listened to her describe the ways she'd been touched and hurt and humiliated. She hadn't gotten around to speaking to him again after that, and now he was dead.

Naruto had never experienced someone close to her dying. There were too few people around her to make it likely. The Sandaime's was her first funeral, held on the third day after his death, and she stood so far towards the back that she didn't hear a word the speakers said. So it had surprised her when she'd turned to leave early and realized she was next to the man's real son, who looked quite like he regretted coming at all.

Wordless, she had wrapped her arms around Asuma-sensei's waist. The man had hesitated, but returned her embrace, hugging her around the shoulders, and acknowledged into her hair, "He wasn't a great dad to you, either, was he?"

She was vaguely aware that Kakashi blamed the Sandaime for her abuse, in some roundabout way. Something about letting her slip through the cracks, and making her an 'easy target.' She wondered if Asuma-sensei agreed with that assessment. Naruto wasn't sure if it was true, but she'd shaken her head no against the man's chest anyway. They'd parted, and Naruto had left before the service was over.

The apartment felt big and empty without her sensei in it. And even though Kakashi wasn't exactly a loud guy, it was quiet, too. She couldn't bear to stay longer than she needed to, and for the next few days, she was out at sunrise and home at sunset, spending the daylight hours training—sometimes alone, usually with her teammates—and the dark hours cooking, cleaning, and struggling to sleep. Her nightmares returned, alongside the under-the-pillow kunai.

When she asked Sakura on the fourth day how her date with Sasuke had gone—by themselves for once, their other teammate running uncharacteristically late—she looked like she'd forgotten the whole thing. "Oh, um, I think we were about to kiss," she'd said, sounding disappointed. "But then people started yelling to end the celebrations, and that the Hokage was dead."

So Naruto hadn't been the only one on the verge of a maybe-kiss. Even if Kakashi had been about to kiss her, he probably never would, now that he'd had time to realize what a bad idea it was, and remember that he could have someone older and prettier and undamaged. That would be better. She wanted what was best for him, even if that couldn't be her. But she still missed him desperately, and kept sleeping in his bed.

On the sixth day, it rained, forcing her to stay inside. Having nothing to do was agony, and she laid in bed until almost eleven, paralyzed with her anxiety. On a whim, she picked up the book Kakashi had been reading before he left, the one that had been sitting facedown in the living room for nearly a week. Icha Icha Tie Me Up! was the corny title, written by some guy that only had one name, the author her sensei loved so much. Maybe she'd read it. Just for fun.

…

Being away from Naruto was agony, an unnatural state. At night, Kakashi laid on the forest floor in his sleeping bag, staring at the stars and thinking about that last half inch he'd failed to close between their lips. Was that really what she had wanted, or had he been about to send her running? Was he projecting his desires onto her innocent affection?

Something was bothering him that had knocked his breath from his lungs the first time it occurred to him. If he kissed her, made it apparent what he wanted from her… Would she give it to him, even if she wasn't interested? Had his efforts to be her everything made him too indispensable to refuse consent to? Would she grin and bear it to preserve their friendship and living arrangements, and he wouldn't even know? After all, that was the purpose of grooming. Make yourself necessary, seal off the exits, become the sole or primary provider, and convince the child that everything is fine and normal.

The child.

Kakashi's disgust at himself was as endless as his need to possess her.

…

They found Jiraiya on the fifth day of searching, in a village in the mountains with an economy based around its regionally famous onsen. At least he'd been in the Land of Fire; searching would have been far more difficult otherwise. Being the only member of the recruitment team that knew the man personally, it was Kakashi who made the approach, sliding onto the barstool next to him and waiting to be recognized.

It didn't take long. Jiraiya noticed him immediately, perhaps recognized his chakra before he'd even entered the bar, but for a moment, he didn't acknowledge Kakashi, merely signaling the barkeep for another serving of sake. When it made contact with the bar, though, the sage slid it in front of him, with a congenial, "Long time, no see. I assume it's bad news, don't tell me yet. How are you? You aren't still ANBU, are you?"

"I'm well," Kakashi answered honestly, activating his genjutsu before taking an obedient sip of the drink his elder had provisioned him. "And… no. I've taken on a genin team."

The only reason the clap to his back didn't knock him into the bar top was that he'd been ready for it. "Congratulations! More rewarding than you thought, eh? Who did they give you? I'm not even sure if I know who's got kids the right age anymore…"

Kakashi's heart was going a little fast as he tried to respond casually, acutely aware that Jiraiya had reason to care for Naruto and would be looking at his relationship with her with fresh eyes. He'd have to be careful. "A girl named Sakura," he began evenly, "Surname Haruno, born to a shopkeeper and his wife, both from civilian families. She's bright. Then… Uchiha Sasuke."

Jiraiya whistled, clearly pleased. "No surprise there, it's a good fit. What's the kid like?"

He wasn't sure what to say, since the answer had changed so recently, but he trusted his mentor's mentor, and told the truth after another sip of sake. "Driven, gifted, cold. Until a few months ago, he was pretty single-minded about avenging and restoring his clan. Now… he's starting to become attached to his teammates, developing healthier bonds. He's a good kid."

"Interesting." Jiraiya drained his glass, a big, nostalgic smile on his face. "Let me try to guess the third. I think the Hyūga branch and main families both had a kid the right age, but that would bump too much with Sasuke's kekkei genkai. What about Shikaku's boy? Or Shibi's? … Choza's?"

"It's another girl," Kakashi corrected evenly, looking down into his little cup.

"Oh, unusual. Aren't you a lucky guy, surrounded by the softer sex?" Kakashi's distaste must have shown even through his mask, because the sage threw his head back in uproarious laughter, and he braced himself against another clap to the back that nearly knocked him off his seat. "Inoichi's brat, then?"

There was a buzzing in Kakashi's ears, and he couldn't make himself look up as he corrected quietly, "It's sensei's daughter."

"That can't be right," Jiraiya protested, startled, looking thoughtfully into his own nearly empty cup of sake. There was something wistful in his words as he wondered aloud, "Has it already been twelve years?"

"Thirteen and a half," Kakashi corrected, garnering Jiraiya's full and rapt attention.

The older man leaned in close, abandoning his drink altogether to turn towards Kakashi. Shinobi tended to play their cards close to their chest, but Jiraiya's face was openly curious as he propped his head on his chin and asked, "What's she like?"

Trying and perhaps failing to contain his joy as he thought of her, Kakashi did his best to answer him. "Naruto… She's all the best parts of both of them. Driven, funny, stubborn, and she has that same knack that Minato did for bringing the best out in the people around her. Almost nothing in her training comes to her easily, but she's a hard worker. She says she's going to become the Hokage someday."

Jiraiya's warm smile had grown wider with every word, and he laughed at the news of Naruto's life goal. "I'm sure she will. You said she's thirteen? Is she pretty?"

It was a weird question, but then, Jiraiya was a weird guy, particularly when it came to women and girls. Kakashi made a show of acting like he'd never thought about it before, rolling his eye upwards as he hummed in thought. "Yeah, I'd say she's pretty," he allowed, and that made the sage happy, he could tell. "Hair is the same as Minato's, just much longer, and her eyes are the same blue. In the face, though… she takes after Kushina."

Watching the other man soak this information up like he was starving for it made Kakashi finally realize what was happening. Jiraiya missed her. Maybe she'd been on his mind all these years. "Is she tall?" he asked next, attention zeroed in on Kakashi, and he shook his head.

"No. You'd think she would be with how tall her mother and father were, and she's probably still growing, but she's tiny. Around ninety-five pounds and about five feet. Strong as hell, though." He couldn't stop himself from bragging, rolling up his left sleeve to showcase a large but mostly faded bruise, all yellow and green. "This is from blocking one of her kicks about a week ago. And she's fast. Like I said, most things don't come easy to her, and she wastes a lot of chakra, but you'll be impressed with her shadow clones. She can make them by the dozens."

Jiraiya's eyebrows shot up at that, pleased and impressed. "Shadow clones, huh? By the dozens? … With the fox's chakra?"

Kakashi hesitated. "I'm not… positive, but I think she only has access to that chakra when she's under extreme stress. I've only felt it from her once. Her natural chakra stores are enormous, though, probably four times mine."

"She'll be a fine ninja, then, especially with you to teach her. Do you know her very well?"

She's my best friend was right out. Better than anyone else on the planet was no good, either. He skirted the actual question, saying instead, "Well, she moved in with me, a few months back."

"Oh, isn't that sweet. Just like Minato took you in?" Throat dry, Kakashi nodded stiffly, and was utterly unprepared for the man to clap him on the shoulder and tell him earnestly, "He'd be so proud of you, and so happy you're taking good care of her." Guilt clenched inside him, sharp and cutting, and for a moment, Kakashi couldn't speak. Jiraiya interpreted him as simply being uncomfortable with praise, though—which wasn't inaccurate either—and pressed, "Tell me more. I think about her all the time, wondering who she's becoming, what she's doing."

The mission. Yes, the mission, this was a good opening. "You could come see for yourself," Kakashi tried, watching the sage out of the corner of his eye for his reaction. "She never meets a stranger, she'd talk to you as much as you wanted her to."

Jiraiya snorted, turning back to his drink and draining the last of it. His smile didn't go away, but it grew cold, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened as he murmured with utter disdain, "Not until the Sandaime dies."

Clearing his throat, Kakashi pointedly did not make eye contact as he informed the man, "Maa, in that case, I don't really have any bad news."

…

It had been hard for Naruto to come to terms with the fact that Kakashi was reading her journal.

At first, she hadn't believed it, not really. She'd written it off as paranoia. Maybe he really had just so happened to guess the exact combination of things that she liked to use to make herself feel better when she was cramping. It was within the realm of possibility.

But reading back through her recent entries, it caught her eye that her sensei had taught her how to shave within a week of her last entry about wishing she knew how. And yes, she had asked, but only because she'd seen him shaving. She'd never once seen him do it again, before or since. Presumably, he usually did it with the door closed. It still could be a coincidence. It could, and she wanted it to be. She was never aware of her journal being disturbed, after all. It was always precisely where she left it. But Kakashi was a skilled shinobi…

So Naruto decided to experiment. She had peppered in one stray line among her regular entries, that said simply, Would be more comfortable to sleep in sensei's bed if I had proper sleep clothes.

A week later, she'd been the proud owner of a new set of pajamas. "Something to wear around the house other than my sweatpants," was all Kakashi had said about it.

It wasn't confirmation, exactly. It could still be coincidental. But just in case, she scaled back what she shared in her entries, and tried to process. Because it could still be paranoia. And she didn't want him to be reading her journal, couldn't handle that kind of betrayal from someone she trusted so deeply.

As the weeks passed, though, the immediate, gut-clenching pain at the idea faded. There was very little in her journal that she wouldn't have admitted to if asked, after all. And the more she interrogated the why, and the better she got to know her sensei, the more began to taste almost sweet. Kakashi was… crooked. Maladjusted, like her, and afraid of his own feelings, let alone the feelings of others. Maybe that was his way of checking on her, taking care of her.

She noticed other calls and responses, both looking back and observing his behavior as she wrote new entries. She mentioned skipping out on buying ramen, and ramen appeared in the cabinets. She mentioned feeling guilty about the death of her landlord, and during training, they got a talk about the morality of killing in self defense or in defense of others. She mentioned wanting to learn a skill she'd heard about, and it appeared in their curriculum. She mentioned needing or wanting anything, from supplies to medicine to a certain treat, and it was given to her.

Reading back through everything again, curled up in Kakashi's bed with Icha Icha Tie Me Up! half completed, currently set aside because she'd been too embarrassed to finish the scene she'd been reading, she noticed something else. She'd said she enjoyed looking at his chest and arms, and he tended to walk around and even sleep next to her shirtless or in sleeveless shirts. She found it unlikely, based on everything else she knew about him, that this had always been his habit; and even if it was, if he was disturbed by his underaged roommate finding him attractive, wouldn't he endeavor to be less attractive to her? Wouldn't he button up? Wouldn't he stop touching her lower back after he read that it made her feel hot and trembly on the inside?

If Kakashi was 1) reading her journal, 2) using it as a guide for what she wanted and adjusting his behavior accordingly, and 3) not adjusting his behavior in ways that would discourage her crush… didn't that mean he liked her?

There was an obvious final test. She'd studiously avoided talking in her entries about her feelings for her sensei ever since she first suspected he might be reading them, nervous he'd read it and react poorly. But really, Naruto had him in a corner, didn't she? If she was right about him reading her diary, and right about what he wanted from her, then he'd be getting her clear signal that she wants him to kiss her. If she was right about him reading it, and wrong about what he wanted from her, he couldn't confront her about it without outing himself. She could even claim to have written the entries because she thought he was reading them, and wanted to punish him for it by making him uncomfortable. And finally, if he wasn't reading her journal, and she really was just paranoid, there was no harm and no foul either way.

Might as well, right?

Naruto hadn't written in her journal since before Kakashi had left, mostly just because she hadn't felt like she was ready to talk about anything, but that became an opportunity when she realized she wanted to write the last week's worth of entries for him. It made her smile to imagine him reading them, probably with that frozen panicky look he always got on his face whenever people were emotional too close to him.