A/N:*evil laugh* for those who just want something sexy, this is the chapter. have funnnnnn~ (3/3)
Ch. 8 - Working Hard Or Hardly Working?
Konoha Cemetery.
The neat rows of granite plaques are interrupted by spans of upturned earth. Even the simplest plaques need to be restored, many small and weather-worn. She wonders how many of them were children from the Third War.
Kakashi often stops by to pay his respects to the dead. A ritual of his.
He has recently added to this ritual by checking her progress from afar. Each time finding her absorbed in her work, deep in concentration. Crouched down. Taking photos. Pouring over archival documents. Breathing life back into his favorite place in the village.
The most familiar place, if not favorite.
He decides to say hello.
Kakashi finds her on the ground, bent over a particularly faded plaque. Her fingers trace the name's carving. He watches silently for a moment, the concentration on her face transfixing. The way she touches each letter with a careful reverence. Fascinating.
She sits back on her heels to brush sweat from her forehead. It's sweltering out. If she looks at these gravestones any longer, her eyes will cross.
Inori looks down at the letters one last time with a dreamy sigh. She finds something beautiful about touching artifacts much older than herself. It transports her back in time as much as it grounds her in the present. An enduring conduit from then to now.
Proof that things can outlive their makers and find new hands to steward them forward. Forward into new hands yet again. That some things can persist. It's a comforting thought in these times.
He watches the dreamy expression take over her features.
A moment of intuition. She's not alone. Then a scramble to her feet to greet him.
"No need to be so startled." He quirks an eyebrow at her, clearly amused.
She wipes a few blades of grass from her knees. Her eyes meet his under the wide brim of his hat.
"I'm not- I'm not startled." She wasn't expecting him. Not out of the blue like this, after so many weeks. He wouldn't be visiting the site unless something were amiss. "I hope you're finding things alright?"
He senses the underlying anxiety in her voice. He strides towards her as he answers her question.
"I wanted to check on your progress is all." Nonchalant. Like his presence, the Hokage's presence, is no big deal.
"It's going well." She nods at this before her eyes sweep over grassy rows of the cemetery. The towering sculpture of the Will of Fire casts a long shadow before them.
"I'm glad to hear it." He falls silent for a moment, his eyes taking in her form. The way she stands angled away from the sculpture. Her eyes sweeping over the green expanse. The sight of her like this, amidst the hallowed grounds, stirs a fondness within him.
He clears his throat.
"You've been working hard."
The sun passing over them throws rays of bright glare everywhere. She regards him with her hand shading her eyes. He's always been a man of few words, but she appreciates the ones of acknowledgement. Appraising the very work he hand-picked her for.
"As have you." She smiles at his darkened silhouette, the sun still too much in her eyes.
"You're not wrong." He shifts to her side, effectively blocking out the sun.
She blinks sun spots out of her eyes. He tilts his head, examining her closely. They can see each other a bit better now.
His form comes back into focus. A white cloak casually draped over his shoulders. A contrast to the rest of his attire: grey, black, plain, understated. Unassuming, but stately. He removes his hat before letting his arm hang down by his side. Its signature red face gleams.
And here she is looking worse than she wants to. A buttoned linen shirt, the sleeves wrinkled from being pushed up all day. Hiking boots. Tube socks. Khakis. She hides a frown.
He looks down at her. "Better?"
The briefest delay. "A vast improvement."
She's overly aware of his nearness. He knows he's breached her personal space. But for a perfectly reasonable reason that happens to cover his own, personal reason. A smirk.
"Glad to be of service." Kakashi nods as he continues to block the sun from her eyes.
"Your service is appreciated, but I'm sure you're needed in many other places than here- just shading me." She pinches her tongue between her teeth to bite off a laugh.
Inori's laugh is no one else's laugh this time. Just her laugh. The way he remembered it.
He likes her playful response. She's not wrong. Kakashi shifts his weight, his eyes still focused on her.
"Very true. But I'd be remiss in my service if I let one of my residents develop sunstroke." A dry joke.
She folds her arms across her chest, openly sizing him up. "I suppose you're up to the task." A sarcastic remark.
She knows how disheveled she must look, being out in the open rows of grass all morning. In as few movements as possible, she shakes her hair to freshly pull it back. She hopes she's not being rude as her fingers comb through it quickly.
A hint of a smile on his lips. He noticed earlier the strands of hair stuck to her neck and cheek from the heat and humidity. He watches her attend to her hair. There's a subtle look of appraisal in his eyes. He is studying her closely.
He clears his throat.
"I'll try my best."
She gives her surroundings one last look.
"Me aside. Have you been taking care ofyourselfthough?" Her eyes search his face for signs of fatigue. His political position is beyond demanding. Who would want this job after all? Picking up the village after it has been dealt the worst blows in its history. It's a frightening prospect.
Kakashi's eyes widen slightly at her question. He's not used to someone checking up on him, especially not since being handed the mantle of Hokage.
He considers her question for a moment. Mulling over how honest he should be, aware that she's searching his face for the real truth of it. Is he looking after himself?
"More or less. It's a lot of work, but I'm managing."
More or less. Probably more on the less side of things. She annoyed by his opaqueness.
There's nothing more to say.
Inori hums at his response. "Well, I'm about due for a break and should be getting out of this heat." She wipes her hands on the front of her khakis.
Then a thought: "I've been meaning to thank you, actually. For the apartment that's been set up for me, for this project. It'sverygenerous! Thank you and thank you to whoever in your administration arranged it."
The mention of the apartment brings a small smile to his face. A warm feeling of satisfaction in his chest. He shakes his head slightly as he responds.
"It was my decision. And you're welcome."
She can't help but look at him curiously. She's deeply touched by the gesture.
His decision. As if offering this job to her wasn't a kindness enough. Or an honor enough.
Is he looking after her? Him, the quiet man who is reluctant to talk about himself or his life. Who is so melancholic about the whole thing.
Maybe he's a man of action more than one of words.
She decides that must be the real truth.
"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" She smiles at him. Her eyes smile into half-moons. If her heart could smile, it would as well.
He can see the thoughts running through her. He knows what she's asking: Why?
"You know what they say: still waters run deep." He smiles back at her.
The words come off as a subtle jab at her earlier assessment of him. That he could ever be someone ordinary or figured out fully. Her playfulness has pulled some out of him. Or maybe it's all the green around them. Or the joy he's feeling here, in the oddest of places.
Inori is understanding more and more what she has come to learn: beyond a first impression, what does she really know about him?
Close to nothing. Nothing beyond what she can intuit or read between the lines on. But he is always observing her. Maneuvering her. Always poking at something. Without saying why.
Never saying why.
She raises an eyebrow, her tone direct. "And how deep do yours run?"
A challenge.
He knows she's reassessing him. Her question hangs in the air, the implication clear: How much is he willing to share about himself?
"That depends." He rocks back on his heels, lightly swinging his arm. The hat sways. "That depends, but deep enough. Deeper than you think, maybe."
Deeper than she knows. Deeper than she could ever fathom.
"How bold of you to ask such a question- and of the Hokage, no less?" A playful skepticism at her resolve to figure him out.
She has thrown down the gauntlet and he accepts by stepping in closer.
"I'm being bold?" She shoots him an incredulous look and points at herself. "Well, I'm a foreign citizen, so I guess I just don't have the common sense of knowing what I can and can't do around here."
"Boldandreckless. A terrible combination." His smirk widens.
Should it only be a verbal game? He takes another step forward, closing the distance again.
"Yes, you're a foreigner, that much is true. But being a foreigner and having common sense aren't mutually exclusive."
He sees the irritation flash across her face, and it just makes him smile more. He arches an eyebrow in mock disbelief at her silence. He continues:
"Common sense applies to everyone. Foreigner or not. Hokage or not." He says as if pacing at the front of a lecture hall. Simply musing aloud, stating simple facts.
He steps forward. Her right foot shifts back. A step forward. A step back.
"You don't need to walk on eggshells around me, especially if you just want to ask a simple question."
Her hand still hangs in front of her. Still dumbly pointing at herself from her last joke. She's genuinely caught off-guard by him. By whatever wavelength he's operating on.
"What- What simple question am I asking you?"
The effect he has on her is a sight to behold: The confusion in her voice. The perplexity on her face. The way her eyes fix on him intensely.
It's almost cute, he decides. It's more than charming. It's cute.
He stops in his tracks and leans forward, a hand in his pocket.
"How deep do my waters run, I believe." A hint of a tease. A provocative edge to it. "That's what you asked me. How deep do my waters run."
He repeats the words back to her as if beating a drum. Her stomach clenches at his persistence. The relentless persistence even as he stands still.
She feels caught, as if the question she asked was always something so brazen. That's not how it started, but the word 'deep' coming from his lips suggests otherwise.
Her eyes connect with his. They pull her squarely onto his wavelength.
"Do you want me to rephrase my question?" Purposefully leading. She is testing his resolve now.
"No... I'm just trying to answer it, in my own way. My own manner." He replies quietly.
Suddenly his tone shifts as if he's made up his mind: "Do you want the long or the short answer?"
"You want to know how deep my waters run? How deep I go?" His voice drops to low murmur. Urging her response. The air crackles with each word.
Her heart pounds with anticipation. She feels herself unashamedly melting in front of him. For reasons far unrelated to sunstroke. His eyes. His words. His tone. His size. His intensity. His persistence.
That damn persistence got her. Got her good.
"The shortest answer possible."
"As deep as my desire for you."
Sunstroke. There's no other explanation for instantly hearing the answer she had hoped for. Some proof that all of these acts of kindness towards her weren't just an extension of his duty. But a genuine want.
Her hands move to him. Her feet step into him. She lets herself get pulled into his waters.
Her fingers ghost over his chest, stopping at the pristine white fabric. The Hokage robes. A sharp reminder of their status difference, but so foreign to her as a civilian.
Intimidating.
"I don't even know how to touch you." She laughs sheepishly under her breath. Out of her depths again. "I really am at a loss here."
He knows that he has a grip on her. A grip on this moment. He will seize it to finally indulge in what has been brewing since the air was full of crashing waves.
Kakashi reaches up, gently guiding her hand to his shoulder. There is no hesitation.
"That's the beauty of it. There's no rulebook, no instruction manual." He responds, tone quiet and sincere. "You just touch me like I'm any other man."
"You're hardly just any other man." Her voice low. She presses her palm fully against his shoulder, letting her fingers splay over him.
"No. I suppose I'm not." He agrees, the words even. "But in your hands, I would be nothing but a man."
She knows she is facing something powerful and unstoppable.
He is keenly aware of the transgressive nature of this moment. Standing on hallowed ground while her hand slides over his shoulder, then to the back of his neck. Their proximity has become all too casual.
It sends a thrill through him.
The desire to taste her -to feel the shape of her mouth against his- is too strong to resist.
He lifts the Hokage hat to cover their faces as his lips press into hers in a deep kiss.
He had meant for it to be brief. A stolen moment. But the way she responds to him, the way her hand curls around the nape of his neck, the way her chest feels pressed against his…
Then the stoic side of him speaks. Rumbling through the caverns of his faculties. Waking him up into his right mind and all that is characteristically him.
They are treading dangerous waters.
He reluctantly pulls away. Their faces still hidden. Their breath still mingling in the sweltering heat.
His eyes rake over her expression as she opens her eyes. It delights him, the way he makes her skin flush.
The corner of his mouth twitches. His cheeks tinge pink.
Kakashi steps back, putting a professional distance between them again. He swiftly raises the hat and places it on his head. As if that was his intention all along. Nothing to see here.
"You..." He begins but loses his words.
He realizes that he can no longer talk circles around her. Dizzy her. Make her head spin with his careful control. Stay the many steps ahead needed for self-preservation.
He's humbled by this moment. A knowing smile spreads across her face.
Kakashi can't help but shake his head, mirth in his voice. "You will be the death of me."
A welcome death.
A/N:As for what comes next, I am PUMPED bc shit is gonna go down ( ͡ ᴥ ͡)
/ cross-posting on Ao3
