A/N I'm back! I apologize for how long I was gone, my stubborn little boy was ten whole days late! The latest yet. As soon as we got past a few days overdue, I knew it was a boy. 9 lbs 11 oz and man did I feel every ounce. My biggest by a whole pound. It was my longest and most painful labor and my husband, as always, showed up in the exact way I needed. I have been feeling the need to write a stand alone one-shot to help me process my thoughts and emotions a little better. I know that those kinds of stories are not for everyone lol but it will probably be Kakasaku since that is where my head is at right now. So if a fluffy pile of birth and babies is something you'd be into reading, keep an eye out for that. ANY WAY we are jumping back in time a little bit. A little bit of Kakashi's pov for some key moments. The rest of this part will mostly be his pov. I have so enjoyed writing this bit and have been so excited about sharing. There won't be much romance but I hope you love it! As always, let me know what you think! love you all!

Interlude

Kakashi

Six-hundred and sixty-six days before he lost her

Kakashi woke slowly. Gray pre-dawn light peaked between his curtains, slicing through the dimness. In his arms, there was a warm body with sweet smelling pink hair—hair that was absolutely everywhere. A smile tugged at his lips as he reached up to brush it from his face.

Watching her sleep, memories of the night before came back to him with the clarity of a genuinely good night's rest. The implications of her words before she had kissed him, of how she had reacted, of so many things she'd let slip over the last three months swirled together in an increasingly confused jumble. They promised profound love and devastating consequences. He needed to think, something that was going to be difficult with her sweet fragrance and warm, soft body threatening to overwhelm him again.

Leaning in, Kakashi ran the bridge of his nose along her jaw, ghosting his lips at the top of her neck—filling his lungs with her scent before slipping from the bed. Sliding into his shoes, he grabbed his cigarettes and the ashtray from the porch and climbed up to the roof. He dangled his legs over the edge and lit his first cigarette.

'I realized who I am here…'

Why had it taken her so long?

When they had run into her parents and she was clearly at a loss for words, Kakashi had said the first thing that came to mind. But when she had looked back at him, her father filling in all the details over her head, her eyes had been filled with immense weight and emotions he did not understand. She had looked stricken.

Then she had fled, locking herself in her apartment. When he finally made it back too, her voice through the door had sounded so sad, so broken. When she had begged for time to think, he had thought she meant about her feelings for him and the future she remembered. But now, he knew it had been so much more than that.

'Have you ever met anyone with hair like mine?'

'Do you have a girlfriend?'

He remembered the confused frown when he'd said he didn't think he ever would have. Had she been waiting this whole time—doing her best to ignore what was happening between them—for her father's cousin to show up and sweep him off his feet? She obviously didn't know her name because she hadn't even blinked when the Hokage had pulled Hana out of thin air. And considering she seemed so surprised to find him unattached, she must not have known when they would meet either.

All of that gave the impression of a short lived relationship. Surely if it were otherwise, she would have recognized herself the moment she'd fallen into his bed and into the past. And if it was going to be short, why did it matter so much?

Now that he knew it was her, them, it felt impossibly important to him. Kakashi had precious little experience with women, and absolutely none with romantic relationships, but he was pretty sure he could—would—fall in love with Sakura given the chance. That thought, all by itself without any other complications, terrified him.

Everyone he had ever loved in any capacity was dead.

Could he really allow himself to love someone again? To open himself up, to what every sign indicated would be a profound relationship, for it to end?

'I'm here for you, Kakashi.'

Because it must be. Why else would it be so important to her that he have it? Could falling in love with her—and then the inevitable heartbreak when it ended—really have such an impact on his life? He didn't see how adding yet another dead loved one to the pile could improve his life in any significant way. In fact, his gut reaction should have been to reject it, to run from more pain.

Sighing, he lit another cigarette and stared at the skyline, watching the sun creep up over the heads of former Hokages. But he wanted her. He wanted to let her love him. And as much as it terrified him, he wanted to let himself love her. He just didn't want the pain of losing her. Would it be worth it? Could he survive it?

'Where's Kazuki?'

The cigarette paused halfway to his mouth.

'Who?'

The look on her face when he hadn't known who she was talking about—it was as if his denial of this person was like a physical blow. He might as well have slapped her.

'Who is Kazuki? Boyfriend?'

She had laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. 'No.'

'I was just thinking I wished I'd bought them. I was really missing Kaz… the person I learned to make rakugan for. He was… will be… someone important to me. Not… Not my boyfriend.'

Kazuki.

He was someone she had expected him to know, someone that was precious to her. He was someone… 'will be…' someone who might not even be born yet.

No.

It couldn't be, could it?

Kakashi's eyes stung. Ash fell from his cigarette unnoticed as his stomach sank.

Kazuki.

With an absolute certainty that Kakashi had never experienced before in his life, he knew that that was the name of his son.

His son.

Their son.

There might have been tears falling down his face, but he did not notice them.

They had a son.

A son who—if his deductions were correct—he would have to raise without her. A son who wouldn't know his mother. As Kakashi had not known his mother.

It was impossible.

It was one thing to contemplate the value of his own heartache at losing Sakura. How could he, how could they, have a child while knowing she was going to…

To what?

Die? Go back to the future?

Either was possible, so did it matter which? It was impossible to contemplate. How could he possibly do that to a child?

Memories he had buried—put away after his father's death because they hurt too much to think about—resurfaced suddenly one after the other. His own childhood, at least the first five years, had been perfectly normal. He remembered running through the woods around Konoha with his father, the pack of ninken howling around them. He remembered him teaching him to throw a kunai and the right way to hold his chopsticks. His father's easy smile, strong arms and deep, soothing voice. The nights he'd wake up from a bad dream to be welcomed into his comforting embrace without question.

Until the day he'd come home to find Sakumo dead, Kakashi had had a happy childhood.

Even without his mother.

Would Kazuki be happy? Was it even possible that Kakashi could adequately raise a child at all, let alone by himself? It seemed impossible that someone as damaged as him could possibly be a good dad.

But then… his own father had been a shinobi too. He had fought in a war and lost many more comrades than Kakashi had. Since Kakashi had no memory of any other family, he had assumed his father had none. Really—aside from how Rin had died—the only thing unique about his own traumas was that they had occurred so young. Sakura was right, that definitely shouldn't have been allowed.

But besides his youth, he was a shinobi. They fought and killed and died young all the time. He didn't know anyone that hadn't seen at least one friend die. And yet, other shinobi paired off and had kids all the time. Losing at least one parent was unfortunately fairly normal for kids in a shinobi village. It was usually a father—kunoichi typically retiring when they got pregnant—but it was not unheard of to lose a mother young.

Growing old with a partner was rare: those that managed it were considered extremely lucky. Honestly, there was no one he could start a relationship with, time traveler or otherwise, where it wasn't likely to end in heartache. He could be sent out on a mission tomorrow and not come home. If Sakura hadn't been there, he would have died already.

Was it really so different starting this with her, knowing rather than assuming it would end before either of them would want it to? And as to their… their son… Kakashi knew, at least, that he would live until Sakura came back in time. That meant he had twelve or thirteen years for sure, with uncertainty after that. That was more than most shinobi ever got.

But what was going to happen to her, and when? Did he want to know? The what, that mattered. There was a big difference between dying and getting sent back to the future. At least with one, there was the hope of eventually seeing her again. But the when?

He lay back on the roof, cigarette a long forgotten burnt stub beside him as he stared up at the color-streaked sky. Would it be better to know how long they had—counting down the days with an ever-mounting sense of dread? Or would he rather live each day as it came, jealously clinging to every second of happiness they would have together until it was over?

"Kakashi?"

Quickly scrubbing at his face, he sat up. She was hanging on to the edge of the roof, her posture relaxed but her face pinched with concern. "Hey…"

Easily vaulting herself up the rest of the way, Sakura walked over to him. "Are you ok?"

He wasn't wearing his mask or his hitai-ate. She could see his full face and, no doubt, the evidence of his emotional turmoil. He didn't want her to know he knew. He couldn't. If he told her, then every moment they shared would be colored with the inevitable heartbreak they would both feel at the end. As long as they could both push away thoughts of what would be and focus on what was, everything would be fine… at least for a little while.

It was something they would have to do anyway with death as the shinobi's ever-present companion.

Looking up into her red-rimmed, tired eyes, he wondered if this was as hard for her as it was going to be for him. He had guessed everything, unable to not connect all the pieces. Sakura would bear the burden of knowing, the how and the when and the why… and everything that came after.

"Yeah…" He reached for her, pulling her down to sit beside him. "Just thinking."

"Hmm…" She wrinkled her nose, picking up his burnt stub and dropping it in the ashtray. "I could smell. You know… you really ought to stop that."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "You already know I won't."

KSK

Kakashi

Four-hundred and eighty-six days before he lost her

Standing in a small, closed off courtyard somewhere in the maze of the shrine, Kakashi waited for his bride. They would have a few private moments before a photographer came to harass them for pictures for approximately twenty minutes. After that they would make their way to the main shrine in a procession with maiko, priests and more friends than he realized they had.

No family though.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Sakura had seen her parents while he'd been away on his last mission and invited them. Not as her parents of course, but it still made her happy.

All Kakashi had of his parents was his father's black montsuki haori that he wore. The Hatake clan crest picked out in white in five different places was a painful reminder of the family he did not have. He hadn't planned to wear it. But when Sakura had gushed that her father was lending her the family's Shiromuku that her mother and grandmothers some generations back had worn, he'd changed his mind.

The day before, he'd visited the family property. It had been shut up since his father's death. He didn't like it there. But the montsuki haori hakama his father had worn when he'd married the mother Kakashi did not remember was there, carefully stored in a drawer in a closet not opened in decades. Her kimonos were probably there too, but he did not care to look.

As he'd walked through the house, disturbing a thick layer of dust, he wondered if he could ever live there again. Before they had found their new apartment, Kakashi had briefly considered bringing Sakura to see it. Maybe raising his own family there could banish the shadows he saw lingering in the front room… and everywhere else. But then she would leave him and he would be left to wallow in his grief and raise his own son alone in the house where his father had killed himself.

Maybe someday… if she came back to him. They could fill it with happy memories. Maybe they would need the extra space.

But that was a dream for darker days, when he'd need something to cling to.

Today was a happy day. A day he never considered that he would have, that he would want. But here he was, brushing anxiously at the front of his father's haori and waiting for his bride.

It felt a little surreal.

"Kakashi…"

Spinning on the spot, his breath caught at the sight she made. Absolutely swimming in white silks, Sakura peeked up at him from beneath her round white hood. She was smiling shyly, her lips a lovely shade of red that stood out against the sea of white.

He didn't think he'd ever wanted to kiss her so badly.

"Sakura." She took three slow steps toward him, her hands reaching for him. He tried to find words as he covered her hands with his on his chest, but couldn't seem to manage it.

She must have understood. Blushing, she let out a soft little laugh and reached to pull down his mask. "You look so handsome in this." She slid her hands along the collar of his kimono. "It's a shame you have so few occasions to dress like this. Then again, you really look good in anything." Her red lips pouted adorably. "It's not fair honestly."

Finally finding his voice he reached out, sliding a knuckle under her chin, tipping her face up to his. "You are beautiful, Sakura. " Both hands cupping her cheeks, he kissed her.

When they broke apart, she grinned beautifully. "Good. I'm glad all of this was worth it." She patted her chest. "This thing weighs a ton."

Looking it over, he could see why it took three people to put on. Would it be so difficult to take off? She laughed, covering her mouth with one hand when he asked.

"I'll be changing into a much less complicated kimono after the ceremony before we leave. Don't you worry about that."

He smiled down at her, trying to memorize the way she looked in that moment. The golden glow of the rare warm winter afternoon illuminated her face against the white silks in a way that Kakashi found mesmerizing. Her smile, her laugh… he wanted to imprint this moment in his memory forever. It would be one—he was certain—that he would find himself reliving again and again when she was gone.

"Hey, um…" She cleared her throat and tugged at his mask where it hung around his neck, her voice jarring him from his reverie. "Could you leave this off for a couple of the pictures? I have already threatened the photographer's life if anyone but the three of us ever sees them. I'm not terribly proud of this, but he definitely believes that I'll murder him if they ever get out. I just want to have a couple, just for me, with your damn handsome face in them. Would that be alright, Kakashi? Please?"

Huffing an amused breath, Kakashi hardly had to think about his answer. He was positive she could have asked him for the moon just then and he would have found a way to get it for her. "Yes."

Her eyes widened and her lips parted as if she did not believe he had agreed before she smiled again, running her fingers over his clan crest on either shoulder. He had the fleeting thought that he would no longer be the only one with the right to wear it after today. Maybe together they could make it something he was proud of again.

"Thank you." A beat and then, "I love you, Kakashi."

The small smile he could not seem to drop widened. "I love you too, Sakura."

Their ceremony passed in a blur for Kakashi. The long, solemn procession where he was surprised to find the Hokage—in the shrine, the rituals, the sake… As he recited their vows, promising before the Kami that they would love and care for one another for the rest of their lives, Kakashi vowed silently what he had already made up his mind to do. He would stay faithful to her for the long years she would be gone, believing she would come back to him. He hoped he was strong enough to survive it.

And then they were married. He had a wife, Hatake Hana to the world, Hatake Sakura to him, and he would cherish her every day they would have together. As they left the shrine as husband and wife—she dressed in a much simpler kimono, as she'd promised—he decided he would not mind if they had to do this all again in the future. Not if he got to see her like this again, looking magnificent and more happy than he thought she ever had.

KSK

Kakashi

Two-hundred and thirty-three days before he lost her

Dropping down onto the balcony outside their bedroom, Kakashi observed his sleeping wife. His mission had run an extra day and a half and they'd only just gotten in, sometime past two in the morning. Letting his chakra surge along his finger, he opened the chakra signature lock on the door and slipped inside.

Sakura stirred when he knelt beside her, brushing the hair that had come loose from her braid out of her face. "Kakashi?"

He tugged down his mask to kiss her temple. "I just got in. Sorry I'm so late."

She smiled, blinking sleepily up at him. "Go shower, you smell. Then you can wake me up a little more if you want."

Humming, amused, and leaning in to kiss her again, he stood. "I'm off tomorrow and you're not. Why don't you wake me in the morning?"

"So thoughtful." Snuffling into her pillow, he barely caught the muttered, 'I love you' as she drifted back to sleep.

Smiling to himself, Kakashi did as she'd asked. After four days, he did stink.

Twenty minutes later, Kakashi quietly stepped back into their room, sweats slung low on his hips. Watching her sleep as he ran a towel through his hair, he reconsidered her offer. She had sprawled out on her back, her thin sleep shirt hardly covering her.

Tipping his head to the side as he weighed the merits of cutting into her sleep—she made a tempting picture—a drop of water slid down his forehead and into his right eye. "Eh…" His Sharingan opened automatically as he rubbed the other eye with the back of his knuckle. With his left eye momentarily falling on her, Kakashi noticed something off about Sakura.

"What—" There was something different about her chakra. Intentionally focusing on her with his Sharingan, he looked closer. There was her chakra. Bright and strong as always. But… he ran his eye down her body, trying to decide what was different. The Sharingan was not nearly as precise as the Byakugan, but still, he could tell something was off.

Taking a step closer to the bed, he finally realized what it was. There was her usual chakra, the bright spot on her forehead where she stored extra in her seal mark and… seeming to float in a small circle in her lower abdomen, was another, much smaller chakra signature.

Kakashi felt a rush of nausea as he sank to his knees beside the bed. Focusing more intently, he brushed his fingers across the exposed skin. He watched the small light of chakra move back and forth for a few minutes beneath his hand. No, not just a little light—his son.

Sakura was pregnant.

Kakashi's chest suddenly ached with a mix of conflicting emotions. First of all was wonder. He was going to be a father, and it wasn't just some vague idea anymore. He could see the proof there in front of him. His son was a tiny ball of chakra, separate from Sakura's and floating there just beneath his hand.

How far along was she? Did she even know yet? It was so rare for him to look at her with his Sharingan, this could have happened the last time they were together or weeks ago. He knew next to nothing about pregnancy besides a general idea of how long it lasted.

After the initial wonder, came terrible, gut wrenching sorrow. This was it. The beginning of their end. He had no idea how long she would survive after giving birth. Hours? Days? A few months? If he was married to her father's cousin, wouldn't her younger self have known her if she had lived longer than that?

Just as he had known Kazuki was his son, he knew she wouldn't live long after he was born.

For the last year, Kakashi had more or less succeeded at keeping thoughts of the end from his mind. The last year had been the happiest he could ever remember being. No matter how bad a mission, no matter how dark a nightmare, she was always there to come back to. Sakura had made every part of his life infinitely more worth living.

And now it was going to end. As he had known it would. But knowing he'd chosen this did not make it any easier.

His vision blurred so he closed his eye, dropping his face to press against her stomach. He wished things could be different. He wished he could feel all of the normal things a young father should feel. Excitement or terror—he was so young, would he be good at this?—instead of this crushing sorrow.

Feeling her fingers suddenly run through his hair, Kakashi gasped and looked up to find her watching him. Thankful for the dark so she would not see his distress, he climbed into bed behind her and buried his face in her hair.

"Kakashi? Are you alright?"

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder as he pulled her tight against his chest. "Yeah. Sorry I woke you."

"Are you sure?" She tried to turn in his arms to face him but he tightened his grip, kissing her shoulder and holding her in place. "I'm fine, Sakura. Go back to sleep, please."

She huffed a sigh. "Rough mission?"

He nodded. "Something like that."

One of her hands came up to cup his cheek. "I'm glad you're back. I love you."

Turning his face into her palm, he kissed it and returned the sentiment. As her breathing evened out, Kakashi held her close.

Never had he been so thankful for his borrowed eye. He couldn't let her know that he knew what this meant. If he only found out when she told him, his reaction would have surely given him away. Now, he would have time to come to terms with it first. When she inevitably told him, he could give her the reaction she would likely expect.

He could be happy with her.