She had been living with him for a couple of months now and she's now showing. But she is still apprehensive around him.

"Sakura?" Kakashi called out to her in a soft voice. "What do you want for lunch?"

Sakura glanced up from where she was seated, her hand instinctively resting on the swell of her stomach. She had been lost in thought again, her mind drifting back to the uneasy truce they had settled into over the past few months. Things between her and Kakashi were…better, in a sense. But better didn't mean healed. It just meant they were functioning. Coexisting.

"I'm not really hungry," she murmured, her voice quieter than she intended. Her eyes flickered to Kakashi, who was standing by the kitchen counter, his face calm, but with a softness that hadn't been there before.

He hesitated, unsure of how to respond. These days, every word, every action felt like walking on eggshells. He had spent the past few months trying to earn her trust back, to prove that he was different, but it was hard. It was painfully slow, and no matter how careful he was, he could still feel the distance between them, like a chasm that neither of them knew how to cross.

"Are you sure?" he asked, trying not to sound too concerned. "I could make something light. You've got to eat… for the baby."

Sakura's hand tightened ever so slightly on her stomach. The baby. It was the one thing that seemed to tether them together, but it was also the thing that terrified her the most. Every time Kakashi brought it up, she felt the weight of it all—the responsibility, the uncertainty, the fear that things would never be the way they used to be.

"I'll have some tea," she said instead, her tone still distant.

Kakashi nodded, turning to fill the kettle with water. The quiet in the room was suffocating. They had moments, brief flashes where things felt almost normal—like when he caught her smiling at something, or when they shared small conversations about the baby. But those moments never lasted. The tension always returned, lingering like a ghost between them.

"Do you need anything?" he asked gently, turning back to face her once the kettle was set. He kept his distance, not wanting to push her, but at the same time, he couldn't help but try to offer her something—anything.

Sakura shook her head, her eyes avoiding his. She could feel his gaze on her, the quiet concern that had become all too familiar. He was trying, she knew that. And maybe that was part of the problem. She could see the effort, the way he tiptoed around her emotions, but no matter how hard he tried, it didn't change the fact that she was still scared. She was still unsure.

"Kakashi?" she called out to him when she felt the baby kicked. "Come here."

Kakashi turned at the sound of her voice, heart racing as he quickly crossed the room. He knelt beside her, his eyes searching her face for any sign of what she was feeling. "What is it?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern. He is particularly protective of her especially when she bled heavily in her third month.

Kakashi knelt beside her, his eyes searching her face for any hint of distress. His hand hovered near hers, unsure whether to reach out or wait for her to initiate the contact. The memory of her heavy bleeding still haunted him—how he had held her in his arms, helpless, desperate for something to save her and their child. He hadn't left her side after that. He wouldn't. But now, with each passing day, the fear that still gripped him seemed to make it harder to find the right balance between being there for her and giving her the space, she needed.

"Did the baby…?" Kakashi's voice cracked slightly as he asked the question, but his gaze never left her. He wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting, but he needed to know she was okay.

Sakura shook her head, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she leaned back against the couch, her gaze on the floor. "No," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was just a kick. A strong one."

He felt a wave of relief washed through him at what he heard. But he almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her hand on his.

"Here," she guided his hand on her stomach. "feel it."

Kakashi froze for a moment, his breath catching in his chest at the sudden shift in the atmosphere. For a second, he wasn't sure if it was the shock of her offering this to him, or the sheer weight of the moment that made him hesitate. But then, slowly, almost reverently, he placed his hand over hers, feeling the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her shirt.

His heart skipped when he felt it—a small, gentle nudge from within. It was nothing huge, but it was unmistakable. The baby. His child.

"You felt that?" she asked. Then her face split into a grin when she felt another kick - stronger this time. "I think the baby knows that his daddy is here. He is trying to show off."

Kakashi's heart nearly stopped at the mention of 'daddy'. The words sent a shiver through him, a mixture of awe, disbelief, and a kind of quiet terror. He had always dreamed of this moment, but never like this. Not with everything that had happened between them, not with the walls still standing tall between him and Sakura. Yet, here they were, and for the first time in a long while, something between them felt real

He tightened his hand over hers, his fingers gently pressing against her stomach, as if to reassure both of them that he was really here. That he wasn't going anywhere.

"I felt it," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "He's strong, huh?"

Sakura's eyes softened, and for a fleeting second, the space between them seemed to shrink. She smiled, a small but genuine smile, and Kakashi felt a crack form in the armor around his heart. Maybe it was a crack, or maybe it was a bridge. He wasn't sure. But something had shifted, even if it was just for a moment.

"He's been kicking a lot lately," Sakura said, her smile lingering, though there was a sadness in her eyes, a quiet fear that Kakashi could see but not fully understand. "Maybe he knows I need a reminder of why I'm doing this."

Kakashi's brow furrowed slightly at her words. "You're doing this because you want to, right? Because you still believe in us?"

She looked up at him and she felt her smile fell. "I'm still scared of you." she admitted.

His heart seemed to skip a beat at her words. I'm still scared of you. It was a gut punch, but it wasn't unexpected. After everything they had been through, the pain, the betrayal, the unresolved tension—it made sense. She was scared of him. Of everything he had done, of what they had lost, and what might come next.

He didn't respond immediately. He just sat there beside her, his hand still on her stomach, feeling the baby's gentle movements under his palm. The silence stretched between them, thick with everything they couldn't say.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse, as if the words were too big to come out. "I'm really sorry."

Her hand tightened around his. "Why did you do it?" she asked. "That night. I asked you to stop, you didn't. Why?"

Kakashi closed his eyes, the weight of her question pulling him deep into himself. The room felt smaller, the silence thicker, as if the very air around them was charged with the tension of a question that had remained unanswered for far too long. He had known this moment was coming. The moment when the truth—his truth—would have to be spoken, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much it might drive them further apart.

"I don't have a good answer," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, the words coming out like they were coated in regret. "I… I lost myself that night. I was angry, and I was scared. And I let my fear control me. I thought… I thought you're going to leave me and I don't want you to. I want you to be mine but I... I chose the wrong... no - the worst way to do it."

Sakura listened in silence, her hand still holding his, but her body tense with every word he spoke. The ache in her chest deepened, a combination of old wounds being reopened and new ones forming. Kakashi's voice trembled, raw with the weight of his confession, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of something she didn't know how to name—something between anger, sorrow, and a kind of hopeless love.

"You were scared?" she repeated softly, her voice barely audible. "Scared of me leaving you?" Her eyes searched his face, trying to understand, to see if there was any truth left in the man sitting beside her, the man she once trusted with her whole heart.

Kakashi nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I was terrified," he admitted. "When I saw you let Sasuke kiss you, I thought that I am already losing you and you're leaving me. I... was scared and angry. So I just snapped."

"I didn't let him kiss me." she said for the nth time. "I didn't let him kiss me, I didn't let him hug me. He forcibly kissed me." a tear fell from her eye. "I told you over and over and over again. But you refuse to listen."

Kakashi's breath hitched at the sight of her tear, the sorrow in her voice like a blade slicing through the fragile walls he had tried so hard to rebuild. His heart ached, the weight of his own failures pressing down on him, crushing him under the reality of everything he had done and failed to do.

"I… I know," he whispered, the words feeling too small, too inadequate. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and gently wiped away the tear that had slipped down her cheek. The gesture felt so futile, yet so necessary—like trying to heal a wound that could never fully close.

"I'm sorry, Sakura," he said again, his voice rough with emotion. "I never should have doubted you. I never should've let that fear control me. I should've trusted you. You were always honest with me, even when I couldn't see it." His voice cracked on the last words, and he felt the sharp sting of regret deep in his chest. "I'm so sorry."

Sakura didn't respond immediately. She let the silence linger, her body still tense beside him. The weight of his apology, the sincerity in his voice, tugged at her, but she couldn't simply let go of everything so easily. He had broken her trust. And even now, as he sat there beside her, his hand on hers, she could feel the distance between them—a distance that was never going to be erased with just words.

She took a shaky breath, the pain of it all still fresh, still too close. "You say you're sorry, Kakashi," she whispered, her voice thick with the weight of everything she had tried to bury. "But what does that change? What does it even mean?" she asked. "If I give you a chance, what would it mean? What if... what if Naruto or Kiba or Lee or Genma got too close? What if they hug me? Would you get jealous again? What would happen then? Would you force yourself on me again?"

Kakashi's heart slammed in his chest at her words. The fear, the shame—it all rushed back in an instant. Her question hung in the air like a thunderclap, and he could feel the weight of it pressing down on him, crushing the tiny bit of hope he had left. He knew she wasn't asking out of spite, but out of the raw need for reassurance, for an answer that could make her feel safe, make her believe in him again.

"Sakura…" His voice trembled, his eyes searching her face. There was a fear in her eyes, and a sadness, but there was something else too—a kind of steel, a boundary that he knew he couldn't cross. "I can't promise that I won't feel jealous. I'm human. I'm not perfect. But I can promise you this…" He stopped, swallowing the lump in his throat before continuing. "I will never let fear control me again. I won't let it make me act out, and I'll never hurt you like that again. Not for anyone, not for any reason. And if you ever feel uncomfortable, if you ever feel unsafe, I will listen. I will hear you. And if you need space, I'll give it to you."

Sakura's gaze softened slightly, but her lips remained pressed in a tight line, as if she was still waiting for him to prove his words.

"It hurts, Kakashi." she whispered. "You mean everything to me, I love you and you tore me apart." she stared at him earnestly. "And now here we are, trying to patch the pieces with baby on the way."

Kakashi's throat tightened at her words. You mean everything to me, I love you, and you tore me apart. The pain in her voice was enough to crumble him, to undo whatever fragile semblance of control he had left. He had never wanted to hurt her—never. But he had, and no amount of apology could undo that.

"I know," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if the words themselves might be too much for her to bear. "I know, and I will never forgive myself for that. I was selfish, I was afraid… but none of those excuses what I did." His fingers clenched around her hand, his gaze steady on her face, willing her to see the raw truth of his words. "I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I don't know how, but I'll do whatever it takes. I'll fight for you." he cupped her cheeks in his palms and kissed her softly. "Please, don't shut me out."

Sakura's breath caught as his lips met hers, gentle and filled with a quiet desperation. It was a kiss that wasn't just about love or longing. It was about everything unsaid, everything raw and broken between them. She didn't pull away immediately, but she didn't respond with the same intensity either. The kiss lingered, an echo of what they had lost and what they might never regain.

When he finally pulled back, he looked at her with an intensity that almost scared her. His hands rested gently on her cheeks, his thumb brushing away the remnants of tears she hadn't realized had fallen.

"Please, don't shut me out," Kakashi repeated, his voice softer this time, almost pleading. He sounded smaller, more vulnerable than she had ever heard him.

Sakura stared at him for a long moment, her heart a tangle of emotions. The ache in her chest hadn't disappeared. If anything, it had grown deeper, sharper. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to let herself believe that he could be different, that they could be different. But the memories of the pain he had caused her, the betrayal, the broken trust—it all rushed back in waves.

Her hand tightened in his, but there was still hesitation in her eyes.

"I love you." she murmured. "Still. I hate you but I love you too. It's hard to love you, Kakashi."

Kakashi's heart tightened at her words, the confession hanging in the air like a fragile thread. It was the kind of contradiction that could tear someone apart, and he knew it. He could see it in her eyes—the raw, unfiltered pain she was still carrying. She loved him, yes, but it was laced with a kind of hatred that couldn't be easily washed away. The deep betrayal, the scars he had left on her heart—they didn't disappear with apologies or promises.

"I know," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if speaking any louder would shatter the fragile truce they had so carefully built. "I don't expect you to forgive me overnight. Hell, I don't even know if you ever will. But I'll take whatever you give me. Slowly. If you'll let me, I'll show you I can be the man you need. The man you deserve."

"I..."

"Sakura, please."

Sakura's throat tightened as she listened to Kakashi's desperate plea. The raw sincerity in his voice, the way he was willing to fight for them, for her—it all felt so overwhelming. Part of her wanted to believe him. Part of her wanted to fall into his arms, to let herself be swept up in the possibility of healing, of love, of everything they could rebuild together.

But there was another part of her—the part that had been shattered, that had felt the sting of betrayal so deeply that it was impossible to forget. That part whispered doubts into her mind, reminding her of all the reasons she should stay guarded, stay distant.

She was about to pull her hand free from his grasp when the baby inside her kicked again. As if trying to tell her to accept him again. Then she felt it again—another nudge, more insistent this time. Her eyes softened, and she instinctively placed both hands on her belly, as if to protect whatever fragile hope was stirring inside her.

"You're... not going to hurt me again?" she asked tentatively.

His voice, low and filled with both resolve and a quiet desperation, broke the silence. "No, Sakura. I will never hurt you again. I swear it. I can't erase what I've done, but I promise that I will never cross that line again. Not for anything or anyone. You're safe with me. I'll protect you, and I'll protect our child."

Sakura studied his face, looking for any sign of insincerity, any hint that he might still be hiding behind the mask he wore so well. But what she found instead was rawness—a kind of openness he had never shown her before. It wasn't just the words he spoke; it was the sincerity in his eyes, the depth of his voice, the way his hands trembled as they rested on her cheeks, as though he were afraid she might slip through his fingers.

"If you hurt me again or my baby," she started, "I will never forgive you." she said in defeat.

Kakashi's heart clenched at her words. The weight of her threat, the truth behind it, settled in the pit of his stomach like a stone. He had never taken her love for granted, but hearing her say that—hearing the finality in her voice, the deep resolve—was a sobering reminder of everything he had lost, everything he stood to lose if he failed her again.

"I understand," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His fingers trembled as they gently brushed her cheek, as though the touch itself was an apology he could never fully express. "I swear, Sakura, I won't hurt you. Not ever again. I won't make that mistake again. I'll live with the weight of my mistakes every single day if it means I get to prove that I can be the man you deserve."

Sakura's eyes softened, but there was still a distance between them, a space she wasn't sure she was ready to cross. The baby kicked again, this time with a force that seemed almost deliberate, as though reminding her of the fragile thread that connected them. Her hands instinctively moved to her stomach, cradling it with a protectiveness that was almost primal.

"Okay. But I still need you to occupy the other room. I can't sleep next to you yet." she murmured.

Kakashi nodded slowly, the heaviness of her words settling in his chest. It was a quiet admission, one that stung more than anything she had said before. He understood. She wasn't ready, and that was something he had to accept, no matter how much it hurt. He couldn't expect everything to be fixed in an instant. They had come a long way, but there was still so much more to work through.

"Of course," he replied softly, his voice carrying a quiet acceptance. "I'll stay in the other room."

His fingers lingered for a moment on her cheek, a silent promise that he wasn't going anywhere. The weight of the decision to separate, even if just for the night, hung in the air, but he knew it was what she needed. If this was the only way for her to feel safe, then it was the least he could do.