Curiosity and the Copycat

by Mx. Irony

Hatake Kakashi had a routine of sorts: train, complete missions, visit the Memorial, and read Icha Icha Paradise. Then that routine was interrupted by a nosy, overly friendly civilian. [slow burn, Kakashi X OC]

7. Neighborly Concern

Author's Note: Oh, my gosh, I got such nice feedback from people for the last chapter. And guys - guys, this fic is SO FREAKING CLOSE TO 1000 FOLLOWERS AND I AM SCREAMING! Thank you, thank you, thank you. If it hits the mark next chapter, I'll put up a poll with potential "extra" content which may be posted individually as separate fics, or an end of chapter addition where a small drabble is posted after the Author's Note, or as another bonus chapter like the New Year one. Please feel free to start putting in Curiosity & the Copycat prompts for potential projects now whether they are side character specific (how did Saeko and Kaori meet?), glimpses of Takara's backstory, or even some Kakashi/Takara fluff to keep us going in this awkward no man's land where they're not even friends yet. Dammit, Hatake!

C&C also got more FAN ART! Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ Please check out darling AllyHaert's artwork which includes both Takara and Kakashi, complete with Takara's goofy grin (the dimple!) and the bags under Kakashi's eye from lack of sleep. Aren't they a lovely couple? o(^^o) The artist did such a fantastic job. AND SHE EVEN SENT ME THE ORIGINAL PHYSICAL COPY IN A WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL PACKAGE FILLED WITH LOVE AND SHE IS LITERALLY THE BEST! *whispers* I'd go to war for you.

Also, a shout out to the sweet reviewer Junipearlee (awesome username btw) for recommending the song "Happy Accidents" by Saint Motel - an excellent addition to the C&C playlist. If anybody else has any other music recs for C&C, write them in a review and why you think it's a good fit! I'm always looking to add to the collection.

Life update: I've recently received a new job offer in the city working in a school. I'm starting my own education back up again. Oh, and I'm moving out of my parents' house and into the city.

Tomorrow.

As in, less than 24 hours after this update.

I'm only slightly freaking the hell out. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (She types while internally screaming - fuckfuckfuckfucksomeonehelpmeicantbreathe)

:) This is fine. Everything is fine.

Answer to last chapter's question: I have an old lady's name. It means "pearl" which I think goes very well with my middle name; one meaning of it is "of the sea." Therefore, my full name means "pearl of the sea." Being a water baby, I think it suits me just fine. Growing up, I wasn't too enamored with my name but now I recognize it as one chosen with love - in honor of some people who are very much missed. So, I guess I'll keep it and make it my own.

As for nicknames...I have too damn many, each one more embarrassing than the last. Those I'll gladly return.

Now...get ready for some new sides to Takara's personality.

---

Curiosity and the Copycat

...a Naruto fanfiction story...

Curiosity and the Copycat © Mx. Irony

beta'd by the Little Sister and Ori Heartlyng

Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

How to Win Friends and Influence People © Dale Carnegie

---

chapter six

Neighborly Concern

"Day after day, ordinary people become heroes through extraordinary and selfless actions to help their neighbors."

Sylvia Mathews Burwell

---

"Hmmmm." Takara tucked her chin between two fingers, elbow resting on her knee. Sitting cross-legged on the floor where she was eye level with the bottom shelves, she considered the library's selections: A Shinobi's Guide to Budgeting. Economics in the Five Great Nations: How Hidden Villages Changed It All. The Accountant's Guidebook. Agriculture to Mercantilism: The Land of Fire. Spreadsheets and Collateral (Literal) Damage in Ninja Villages. The (Financial) Costs of Ninjutsu. How to Make Friends and Influence People.

Her eyes lingered on the last book, and the corner of her mouth twitched. Maybe I should borrow that one for Hatake-san?

She snorted quietly under her breath at her own private joke. Takara could only imagine the man's response. Part of her wanted to do it just to get some kind of outward reaction from Hatake beyond boredom or muted annoyance but ultimately, she decided against it. A man (lethal ninja) could only be pushed so much.

Curious nonetheless, Takara opened the book to the first page and ran her finger under the words as a pacer. Her eyes darted from one paragraph to another as she flipped through the pages. When she reached the end of the chapter, Takara's eyebrows lifted in intrigue. She closed the book and looked at the plain, simple cover. How interesting. It couldn't hurt to read, she reasoned.

Mostly for her own quiet amusement, Takara added the book to her growing collection along with a quarter of its originating shelf. The sizable stack threatened to block her eyes (again), and Takara knew that she was going to have to cut herself off soon if she wanted to make it back to her apartment with her back intact.

But speaking of her neighbor…

Heaving the books from the floor and into her arms, Takara stood and settled the pile on the nearest reading desk. She did some quick rearranging, tucking the books into a neat tower, and then made a quick beeline for the library catalog. Sliding open the drawer marked "J," Takara flipped through the index cards, clicking her tongue, until she came across the target author. Jiraiya. Only one book was listed under the author's name, and it wasn't the one she wanted. Takara's right eyebrow twitched.

"The Tale of the...Utterly Gutsy Shinobi?" she read out loud. Whoever this writer was, they certainly didn't know how to title their works.

Takara pursed her lips, pouting slightly. She forcibly closed the tiny drawer. It was like some unseen force was keeping Icha Icha Paradise from her. No. Not anymore! So help her, Takara was getting her hands on that book. Today!

Mind set, she lifted her tower of books with a grunt and marched to the library front desk. The books were practically slammed on the polished wood, landing with a thud in front of the startled librarian. Takara peered over the tall pile with her most saccharine smile, her "saleswoman" smile as a cousin once called to it. "Her con artist grin," her older brother had corrected.

"Gooood afternoon, Akiyama-san," Takara crooned. "It's nice seeing you again."

The old woman smiled dryly, good-humored. Her blue eyes glimmered behind her glasses. "Takara-chan. It's been awhile."

"Well, I would hope it wasn't too long."

"It's been a three whole days without your delightful inquiries, Takara-chan."

Takara's smile widened, right cheek dimpling. "I have more than enough to make up for it."

"I would be disappointed if you didn't." Akiyama chuckled, already stamping through index cards as she quickly checked the books out. Takara loved how the librarian could be equally chatty and productive at the same time. A woman after her own heart, that Akiyama-san. "But I do hope this lovely group keeps you entertained for a little longer than a few days."

"I treasure my time with every book I read, Akiyama-san, no matter how short."

"You better. Otherwise, we may have to have a little talk, Takara-chan," Akiyama said with mock sternness.

"You're not an alumnae of the Academy, are you, Akiyama-san?"

"Maybe," Akiyama said casually. "Maybe not."

"Eh-heh..." A sweatdrop rolled down the back of Takara's head. That was the scariest thing about Konoha: you didn't know who was trained to kill a man and who wasn't. Forcing the thought out of her mind, Takara laughed. "I'll be a model reader then."

"You already are," the librarian said, looking at Takara fondly. "I wish more young people read like you in this village. Though you could stand to add a few more novels to your collection."

"Ah, about that, Akiyama-san," Takara said as she handed the old woman her library card. "There is one novel I'm looking for. It just keeps evading me somehow..." Like one of its own fanatic readers, she silently added.

"Oh?" Akiyama steepled her hands and leaned forward, eager to help. "What might this elusive novel be?"

Elusive. How fitting for both the book and her neighbor, Takara thought. "Icha Icha Paradise," she said.

The librarian's expression stilled.

"...Akiyama-san?"

Composed, carefully neutral: "What was that, dear?"

Takara repeated the title. "It's by someone named Jiraiya."

Akiyama's eyes flashed at the name. "You're certain that's the novel you're looking for?"

"Yes, ma'am." Feeling nervous, Takara put on her default happy smile.

A long, quiet stare. "I never would've taken you be that kind of girl..."

Takara's smile faltered. "Excuse me?"

"This library doesn't have those kind of books, Takara-chan," Akiyama said severely.

"What are 'those kind' of books?"

The librarian's eyes narrowed frostily. "I'm sure you know exactly what kind they are."

"Really, I don't," Takara said quickly, flapping her hands. What the hell has Hatake been reading?

"...You don't?"

"No, ma'am," she admitted, feeling especially naive. It annoyed her.

"Do you have an idea what...it's about?" the librarian asked cautiously.

"I don't." Takara shook her head. The saleswoman smile made its comeback, sweeter than ever. "What is it about, Akiyama-san?"

TELL ME! Takara wanted to scream.

"Why don't you tell me how this...particular piece of literature caught your interest."

Takara sucked in a breath. "One of my neighbors is just constantly reading it, so I got a little curious. I've been asking him and asking him what it's about for ages but never get a straight answer, so I doubt he'd even let me borrow a copy of his which is why I don't ask. That and it's awkward enough between us which is a problem in and of itself 'cause he doesn't really talk to people and I do but I think I've come on too strong which doesn't really work out so well with that kind of person. He just kind of shuts down when it's gets to be too much at once, you know? We don't have anything in common - that I know of, at least - so it makes it even harder to talk to him. So, I thought hey! Why not read his favorite book and start a conversation about that? But I can't find it in any of the bookstores I've been to and I don't know anyone else who might have a copy. I should have thought the library first but as it turns even you don't have it, so now I'm back to square one and it's really frustrating because now I really, really have to read that book!"

Realizing her outburst, Takara slapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry."

"I see..." Akiyama's demeanor relaxed but now there was something protective in the old woman's wrinkled expression, to Takara's blinking confusion. The librarian folded her hands neatly on top of her desk, composed. When she spoke, it was slow, deliberately patient: "Tell me. What sort of person is this neighbor of yours?"

"My neighbor?" Takara took a moment, searching for the words. She looked down at one of her books (500 Ryo Start-Up: Business on a Budget) thoughtfully. She answered slowly, choosing her words with care, "I don't...really know much about him. He's quiet. Busy. I hardly ever see him but when I do, he's either just plain exhausted or...I don't know how to explain it. Aware but not there, if that makes sense? He's sharp - really sharp - and he pays attention to things but it's all automatic. Sometimes..."

"Sometimes...?" Akiyama prompted gently.

Takara hesitated. It felt strange, talking about Hatake when he wasn't around. Somehow, it felt like a breach to his privacy. She forced herself to finish, "Sometimes, I feel like I'm talking to him through a wall for all that comes across."

A thick, steel reinforced wall. One she couldn't simply break through (if that were even possible) - that would only cause irreparable damage. Climbing over it wasn't an option either; the wall was too high and Takara knew enough by now to understand that such an intrusion wouldn't be appreciated. Instead, Takara thought, maybe she could just slowly...chip away at it little by little, just enough to let some light in.

"I knew you were a nice girl," Akiyama said softly, interrupting Takara's thoughts. "You have good intentions but...why go to such lengths to talk to this person? You have other things to worry about."

True. Her lack of job weighed heavily on the back of Takara's mind, an ever present anxiety that she couldn't resolve. Then there was still learning her way around Konoha without getting lost and circumnavigating shinobi culture without offending someone enough to be killed or maimed and learning all the do's and don't's, the unspoken taboos and unusual social norms. She had a particularly nasty landlady to contend with and utilities to pay for and groceries and finding a potential gardening spot and and studying and researching local businesses and Hotaka's refusal to speak to her when she called -

"He seems lonely," Takara said suddenly, her own words startling her. But they were true, weren't they? Hatake was lonely.

Or maybe I'm just projecting.

The librarian gave her a soft look. Takara recognized the look; it made knots form in her stomach.

"You're too sweet, Takara-chan."

"No, I'm... Not at all, ma'am. I'm just being neighborly."

"That's very nice, dear, but...perhaps it's best if you leave this man to himself," Akiyama said delicately. "It sounds like he prefers his privacy."

She should. She really should.

"I...appreciate your concern, ma'am. Thank you."

Everyone in her family fought with her over her decision to move to Konoha, a ninja village. Friends and neighbors and long time acquaintances warned her. Morioka cautioned her to keep a guard up when they arrived. Amano and even Taniguchi, residents of Konoha and related to ninja themselves, advised her against pestering Hatake Kakashi. Hatake himself made it abundance clear that he had little interest in her company. Takara wasn't sure if she even liked the standoffish man.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, dear?"

So, why - why did she bother with Hatake Kakashi?

"Yes, I think there is. If you don't mind."

Why do I care? Takara asked herself. There was only so far "just being nice" could take her.

"Not at all, Takara-chan."

With Akiyama's help, Takara borrowed The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi instead. It was the first novel she'd read in over two years.

---

There was little noise in the locker rooms before a mission. It was always quiet, always tense, as Anbu agents geared up. Sitting alone on the bench, Kakashi adjusted his left arm guard until it fit snugly over his forearm.

Kakashi didn't hear movement behind him but he felt the stir in the air, smelt the very difference in it as someone neared him. He didn't so much as flinch when Tenzou sat down next to him.

"Hello, senpai."

"I asked you not to call me that." The younger recruits were catching on.

A good-humored smile teased at the edge of his lips. They didn't move as he murmured, almost noiselessly, "Find anything on the patrol?"

"If I had, I would've included it in the report," Kakashi said, just as quietly.

"But you noticed something."

"...a scent. Unrecognizable, barely there."

Such a small detail was barely worth putting in a formal report, useless as it would be to put into words without adequate comparison, but crucial to the overall investigation of the unusual activity around the smaller surrounding villages outside of Konoha. Kakashi kept this detail to himself, knowing that more people investigating would disrupt what little of the scent remained. It would've been different if an Inuzuka were on the team or anyone else with a superior sense of smell.

It was better for Kakashi to look into it alone.

Tenzou asked no further questions; he simply nodded. He understood Kakashi's thought process without the words, in a way only someone who had worked closely with the silver-haired man for years could.

He and Tenzou were now the two most senior members of Team Ro, others having either reassigned, retired, or long dead. They were close, bonded as only fighting together and risking their lives could bond two people, true comrades within the Anbu ranks. Kakashi would even call them friends. But in Anbu, unlike their regular active duty counterparts, one didn't go out for drinks after a mission.

There was a complete separation between who a person was outside of Anbu and who there were in it. As soon as a shinobi walk through those doors, their outward personality shift into a sharper, colder version of themselves. A loud, vivacious person becomes quieter. An already quiet person becomes nearly silent. Someone who would otherwise smile and laugh anywhere else becomes more stoic than the most solemn of people. Then the porcelain mask comes on and they become someone else entirely. A darker alter ego designed to commit the very cruelest of acts within the shadows.

But for a ninja who already wore layers of masks, the differences between personas become harder to define until there was no black and white distinction. Only a deep, muted gray that grew darker and darker as time went by.

Kakashi slid off his hitai-ate, its metal plate gleaming before being placed in the back shelf of the locker. He replaced it with the white, canine mask which covered what little could be seen of his face. His Sharingan gleamed crimson through its left slit.

---

"Ugh..."

Takara hitched the canvas backpack higher on her shoulders, straps digging into skin through layers of cloth. She adjusted the straps, attempting to find comfort, and rolled her shoulders. They felt tense regardless. Grimacing, she sighed and slid the bag off onto a bench. Perhaps rearranging the books to better distribute the weight would help.

She was wrong.

Huffing, Takara slid the burden back on - once again promising herself more restraint the next time she went to the library. She stopped suddenly, brow crinkling. The back of her neck tingled. Takara looked over her shoulder warily.

Something feels...off.

A shiver ran up her spine despite the summer heat. Turning her head one way and then the other, Takara immediately made to leave.

Then a sudden blur of motion bulldozed into her, shoving her to the ground.

"ACK!" Takara shrieked.

"Oof!"

A small body crash landed on her, effectively knocking the air out of her lungs. Takara gasped, face twisting into a grimace. The other person crushed against her rib cage and her heavy bag did nothing to cushion her fall, doing horrible things to her back.

Squinting, Takara was met face to face with the brightest pair of blue eyes she'd ever seen. "Hello, there," she wheezed.

"Sorry, lady!" The little boy leaped off her, grabbing at her hands. Takara allowed him to pull her upright. As she stood, her spine cracked. Takara and the boy both winced. Gritting her teeth, Takara dropped the backpack to the ground and stretched her back. A series of pops followed.

Takara's eye twitched.

The boy flinched at the sound. "Ouch."

"Ouch," Takara agreed.

Eyes narrowed, she examined the boy. With odd facial markings on his cheeks, his face was round with baby fat while the rest of him was gangly and awkward. He was short for his age, scrawny - usually the size of a preteen boy before his first growth spurt hit. She estimated him to be about Rikuto's age, give or take a year. He was only the third person she'd ever met with blond hair.

Bemused, Takara watched him scramble to pick up the books from the sidewalk. Jumpy, she thought as he shoved the books into her hands.

"You need to watch where you're running," she told him.

The boy avoided eye contact with her, already searching for a getaway. "Yeah, yeah, I know - "

"You could hurt yourself like that."

The boy's head jerked back, as though physically shocked. "Huh?"

"You're not actually hurt, are you?" Takara gave the boy a quick once over. "That was a nasty fall for both of us."

"You..." He stared at her oddly, seemingly unsure how to take her concern for his well-being. Then he said, "You talk funny."

Takara's smile froze. A tick mark appeared on her forehead, an angry flush spreading up her neck and into her cheeks, but she kept her expression pleasant. She played up the Aomori dialect for good measure as she said, slightly sarcastic but without any real bite, "It's called an accent, honey. Y'all sound a little funny to me, too."

He recoiled, blinking. "Honey?"

"WHERE ARE YOU, YOU BRAT!"

Takara perked up.

The boy cringed.

Her cheek twitched as she bit back a smile. She knew that look all too well. "Got yourself into a little trouble, hm?" she asked lightly.

"Sort of," the boy said, eyes darting around for an escape.

An impulse came to her. An inconsiderate impulse, something her older brother would've scolded her for.

She indulged it.

I am a terrible, terrible influence, Takara thought. At the same time she suggested, "Try going around the east exit. It'll lead you right into the market crowds. That should shake 'em off. "

"The what - ?"

"NARUTO!"

He jumped.

Takara inclined her head, a playful smile curling the edges of her mouth. "Just try not to run anybody else over. "

The boy's mouth fell open, at a loss for words. His expression was caught somewhere between amazed disbelief and suspicion.

"Don't worry. I'll distract them for ya." She winked conspiratorially.

Terrible, Hotaka's voice hissed in the back of her mind. Takara smothered it.

A disbelievingly grin brightened the blond's face. "You're awesome, lady! Thanks!"

And he was off like an arrow, darting around the building into the bushes. Takara chuckled as she stared after the boy. She remembered how she ran like that from aunts and uncles and even older cousins when she was his age. What was childhood without getting into a little trouble with the adults every now and then? As of lately, she hadn't had much fun of her own with the move and its subsequent job hunt.

Well, besides pestering her reclusive neighbor from time to time. But that was more like a civic obligation at this point.

Further down the path, a figure darted down from a nearby rooftop. He was a young man, close to her age, with short dark hair. His head swerved both ways in obvious search of the blond boy. Takara hesitated when she saw his forehead protector catch the light.

She swallowed. Cupping her mouth, Takara called, "Excuse me! Sir!"

The ninja turned his attention towards her. Despite his obvious rush, he stopped to ask, "Yeah?"

Folding her hands behind her back, Takara rocked on her heels and ducked her head. "Ah. Ah'm sorry," she said, stretching her words into a full Aomori drawl. Making herself sound more like Morioka than a...well, a Hinamori. "Ah'm new here in town and jist - well, ah jist can't seem ta find mah way back ta where I came and..."

Curling her shoulders inward, she clutched her elbow with an opposite hand and bit the corner of her bottom lip. Making herself seem smaller, vulnerable. She peered up at him with wide, wide green eyes. "Could ya help me? Please?"

The young man's eyes lingered further down the path, momentarily indecisive, before he sighed. He put on a strained but accomodating smile. "Yeah, sure... Where you headed?"

It honestly surprised Takara what suckers some shinobi were.

"Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Uuh, no problem?"

Takara almost felt bad but not awful. No, not the least bit awful. If she was going to be pegged as a stupid farm girl from first impressions, she might as well have some fun with it while the impression lasted.

"Say, ya wouldn't happen ta be one of them Leaf ninja now, would ya?"

---

It had been days since he last spoke to Hinamori but like clockwork, she greeted him first thing.

"Good morning, Hatake-san."

"Yo."

"How are you today?"

"Fine. You?"

"Well enough, thank you."

With his nose buried in his book: "That's good."

"Ne, Hatake-san?"

Now the random question. "Hmm?"

"Whenever you're finished, could I maybe...borrow it some time?"

"...sorry?"

"Please?"

"For what?"

"Your book. I asked about it at the library but they didn't have it, so - "

"You asked for it at the library?"

"Yes?"

"The public library?"

"Why, is there another library here?" Hinamori's eyes sparkled. "Where at? No? Yes? What are you shaking your head for?"

Sometimes, even Kakashi felt secondhand embarrassment for her.

"It's not...it's not a book you'd find there." Kakashi didn't want to get into the public demonstrations against Icha Icha Paradise when it first hit the shelves. Konoha was a village that trained children as young as three ninjutsu and yet somehow, the citizens found it in themselves to deem certain literature as "morally offensive" and "unfit for the public."

"Well, what kind of book is it?"

"It's..." Riveting? Powerful? Filled with intriguing characters and witty dialogue? Also with detailed, plot-related explicit sex scenes? "...not your kind of book."

"You don't know that."

"You don't even know what it's about."

"Well, I would if you would just tell me - Hatake-san, where are you going? Hey. At least tell me what it's about!" Hinamori shouted after him when he slipped out a nearby open window, moving across rooftops like a smooth stone skipping across water. She leaned her forearms against the window ledge and watched him disappear.

Resting her cheek against her knuckles, Hinamori sighed. She grumbled and muttered to herself, "Rude man. We'll see what kind of book it is. I'll get my hands on it eventually. Just you wait."

Perched above the window on the roof, Kakashi's eye crinkled slightly as he allowed himself a small smile. I have no doubt about that, Hinamori. She was certainly persistent enough. Honestly, he was starting to look forward to when Hinamori did get a copy of Icha Icha and read it for herself just to see her reaction when she realized she'd been going around and openly asking for a book worldly renowned for its graphic sexual content.

---

It had started with a question, as anything else with Takara did.

"How many push-ups can you do?"

"My current record is one-thousand eight-hundred and ninety-seven!"

"Oh, wow. Just regular push-ups or...?"

"I can also do them on my thumbs!"

"That's possible?!"

"Yes! Let me show - maybe you can help beat my record!"

That was how a giddy Takara found herself perched on Maito Gai's broad back at a local park, counting as the man did push-ups on his thumbs with one leg crossed. All the while, they talked about their likes and dislikes in a light-hearted conversation where Gai answered each and every one of her questions, no matter how ridiculous. Incidentally, Takara was taking a strong liking to Gai himself.

"Three hundred eighty-seven, three hundred eighty-eight, three hundred ninety-nine - so you train everyday? - three hundred forty, three hundred forty-one," Takara asked between counting. She observed the muscles of Gai's shoulders with fascination, fluid in the constant motion which would easily strain others even a quarter of the way to Gai's current count.

"Everyday!" Gai enthusiastically confirmed.

"Wow... Oh, three hundred forty-two, forty-three, forty-four! But what about rest days?"

"I let my body rest whenever necessary," Gai assured. "I just find other ways to challenge myself!"

Still counting, Takara nodded along. "So do you ever give yourself a day off? Ever?"

"I enjoy days of leisure, of course, as I must enjoy my Youth while it's with me," Gai said. "But sometimes, for me, that includes pushing my limits and becoming stronger."

His words made Takara smile. "That sounds a bit like me. People tell me all the time that I need to slow down and take it easy but I like keeping busy. Work just isn't 'work' to me, you know?"

Gai paused to send her a bright smile over his shoulder. "Exactly! We're two kindred spirits, you and I, Takara-chan."

"You think so?"

"I know it to as true as the trees are green!" he declared dramatically.

Takara laughed at that before she resumed counting, picking up where she left off.

Some twenty or so push-ups later, Gai casually, "Speaking of work, how goes the job search?"

Her smile fell. She exhaled slowly through her nose. "Not...as great as I'd like," she said tactfully. "But I'll find something."

"You will."

"Thank you, Maito-san."

"I only speak the truth," the man said sincerely.

Takara smiled softly down at his black-haired head, fond. She could easily see Gai becoming one of her best friends.

"This is a good opportunity to use the time to better yourself!" Gai suggested, practically crowing. His push-ups sped up with a gusto. "You could use the time to train or learn a new skill!"

"Don't worry. I haven't been getting lazy," Takara said with a laugh. "I haven't had this much spare time in years and I'm making the most of it."

"Atta girl!"

"It's just...a little hard right now. Running around looking for things to do while also searching for a job. I can't let myself get distracted but I also can't just twiddle my thumbs, waiting for an interview all day."

"Right. It's like that sometimes when missions are scarce," Gai said sympathetically.

"Scarce?"

Gai's voice lowered. "Yes. Konoha has been luckier than other Hidden villages but sometimes, there just aren't enough missions to go around."

"Less demand, too much supply," Takara summarized. Basic economics.

"That's right! There have also been occasions where clients either don't want services from a given village for political reasons or even seek out non-village affiliated ninja."

"You mean mercenaries?"

"Indeed."

"And that's illegal, right?"

"If they're not part of the official system, then yes. Mercenary ninja aren't looked upon so favorably by some for that reason."

Reason being that they take business away from the village, Takara concluded. "Sounds tricky."

"It can be."

Takara's eyes narrowed, intrigued, as she leaned forward. "How much are missions charged and how are the payments divided up? What taxes is applied to shinobi themselves? Do you get taxed by just the village or the Land of Fire or both? Are you paid before or after a mission? Is there a penalty if the mission's a success or failure? What do you - "

Gai laughed loudly. "You are absolutely brimming with questions today, Takara-chan!"

Realizing that she'd practically been badgering Gai about his paycheck, Takara turned crimson. "Sorry, Gai-san, I didn't mean - "

"Don't be sorry! Youth are prone to lots of questions, and you are certainly one of the most youthful people I have had the fortune of meeting."

Now Takara was blushing for completely different reasons.

"You seem to have a keen interest in business," Gai observed, turning thoughtful.

Embarrassed, Takara cleared her throat. "Um, yes. It's...it's something I'd like to pursue one day," she admitted, neglecting to add that someday was now. "Maybe. Who knows?"

"You should!"

The girl blinked. "You think so?"

"Absolutely!" Gai said. "You're youthful, smart, polite, and determined. You'll make for a phenomenal businesswoman!"

A businesswoman.

Her mouth fell open, stunned, as she took those words in. No one had ever said such things to her. No one in her family took her ambitions seriously, downplaying them because she was a woman and a farm girl at that. It didn't matter how much money she brought home from the farmer's market or how well she balanced accounts or what investments she suggested when there was a man doing the exact same thing. Some people, a little more liberal than the rest, suggested bookkeeping or even accounting but nothing bigger, nothing like entrepreneurship. That was just ludicrous.

Too risky, too high pressure, too much for a young girl.

It's exactly what Takara set out to do, determined to prove them wrong, but it still struck her when someone actively encouraged her.

Throat tight, Takara swallowed. Her quiet thanks came out a little choked.

"You're welcome, Takara," Gai said, voice low and serious.

Takara looked up at the blue sky and blinked rapidly, clearing her throat again.

"Oh! Gai-san," she said quickly.

"Yes, spring flower~?"

"I'm sorry but I...I may have lost count."

"No need to worry, Takara-chan, I'll just start again - this time with one thumb!"

Laughing, Takara shook her head in disbelief. "You're crazy!"

"Am I?"

Then Gai proceeded to not just do the push-ups on a single thumb but also beat his previous record. Incidentally, he also became one of Takara's favorite people that day. It wouldn't be much longer before she considered him her closest friend in Konoha.

---

If she didn't die from sodium overdose by instant ramen (the only food she could afford right now), surely it would be the heat that would kill her first.

Takara flipped her pillow over for the second time only to find the other side as warm as the other. Frustrated, she tossed it to the side of her futon along with the duvet and flopped back onto the now bare mattress. Even when stripped down to a lightweight sleep shirt and underwear, Takara found no relief. The opened windows simply offered the occasional breeze just to tease her. It did nothing to stir the warm air in the room which threatened to suffocate her.

To think, her relatives were worried about the ninja. The most deathly thing about Konohagakure was its summers!

Squinting at the cracked ceiling, Takara huffed. Now she was hot and without a pillow. She sat up and scraped desperate fingers through her long hair, its shorter strands sticking to the back of her neck, until she formed a bun on the top of her head. Orange tendrils still fell free which forced her to roughly comb them back into place, wrapping the rubber band around once, twice and tightening it harshly.

Maybe tonight was the night she would finally hack it all off. She was sure she could scrounge up a pair of scissors somewhere and if not that, a knife. Takara could easily picture it: gathering the messy tresses in a fist and cutting it straight across, then scissoring more and more and more until there was hardly any left. Dye it afterward, a normal black. Maybe then she'd look like herself and not -

Abruptly, Takara swung her legs over the side of the futon and rose to her feet, kicking the duvet back onto the mattress while at it. She went straight to her dresser and took out a pair of shorts, sliding them on. A long-sleeved shirt followed after. She looked around the darkened apartment, searching.

Floors, swept and mopped. Dishes, done. She already did her laundry that evening: washed, dried, ironed, and folded. There were no extra staples for her to cook up something extra, let alone anyone else to feed. There was no use in airing out the futon and beating it at night.

Takara power walked to the bathroom and turned on the light. An unused pillowcase covered the mirror. Besides that, nothing was out of the ordinary except the bathroom, too, was exceptionally clean. Takara nearly slammed the door shut behind her.

Running her hands over her forehead, Takara breathed in and then out. What else was there to do? All the chores were done. In such a small (too small, tiny, cramped, unfamiliar) space, there was hardly any upkeep - nothing like the farm. At the farm, there was always something to keep her occupied. Something. There had to be something.

But there wasn't.

She'd read all the books borrowed from the library. She filled out application after application. She touched up her resume (again). Balanced her checkbook. Reviewed her budget. Clipped coupons. Organized papers. Wrote her father, Rima, Aunt Botan, uncles, select cousins, Hiraku, Rikuto, Hotaka -

Takara's breath hitched.

She had to get out of this apartment.

Air. Fresh air would be good. She should go on a walk.

Slipping into the nearest pair of shoes, Takara peeped out at the darkened hallway and glanced around cautiously. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out and gently closed her door behind her. She had never left her apartment at night before; she still had little idea what nightlife in Konoha was really like. It would be nice if someone were with her but who else would be up this late at night?

Takara briefly paused next to Hatake's apartment, half tempted. The man had mysteriously disappeared again, presumably on another mission. She idly wondered if he was back yet... If he were here, he'd probably tell her to lock her door again. The thought made the corner of her lip twitch, almost fond.

For such a reclusive person, Hatake did have little ways of showing he cared...even if he was a bit of an ass at times.

Just to prove an imaginary point, Takara didn't lock the door. She continued her way down the hall, ignoring the way a chill rushed down her spine despite the summer heat. It felt strange to walk these silent halls at night. As she descended the first flight of stairs, an eerie feeling overcame her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Takara paused, hand clenching the rail.

Something's off.

Takara peered down the stairwell, leaning forward slightly. Her heart started pounding. She took a small, tentative step down the first step.

Don't be nosy, Hotaka's voice rang in the corner of her mind where all her other senses of self-preservation and caution stirred at the disquieting scene.

Not nosy, Takara inwardly retorted. Curious. The thought of her older brother's disapproval spurred her on more than anything, urging her to walk down further.

Breathing in through her nose, Takara rounded the corner.

No one.

She sighed.

"What are you up to?"

"AGH!" Takara whirled around, throwing a punch. Someone caught her fist.

Eyes widening, Takara's gaze traveled upward. Since he wore all black, it was difficult to make him out in the dark but she would recognize that disaster of silver hair anywhere.

Takara gulped before plastering on a smile. "Good evening, Hatake-san."

"Evening," her neighbor returned dryly.

"Did you just get back?"

"Something like that," Hatake said, evasive as ever. He had yet to let go of her hand. His grip wasn't painful in the least; in fact, it was oddly gentle - which left Takara wondering how she couldn't get out of it!

"Mind telling me what you're doing out so late?" the man asked as she experimentally pulled at her hand.

"Ah, nothing really. Just needed some air," Takara said, honest but unspecific.

"Hm." For maybe two seconds, Hatake surveyed her. Then he suddenly released her hand. "Alright then."

Takara's arm simply fell to her side, hanging limply. She stared after him blankly. Hatake was a quiet man, a distant one for sure. He kept his distance from others, even physically separating himself...and it took him a while to let go of her hand.

Something was off.

"Be careful," Hatake casually threw over his shoulder as he walked passed her, climbing up the stairs.

That smell.

"Hatake-san."

The man stopped briefly, hand resting on the handrail. "Mm?"

Takara peered up at him, face carefully neutral. Slowly, she asked, "...are you okay?"

Hatake looked over his shoulder, unreadable. "Yes."

"Are you sure? You seem a little -"

"I'm fine, Hinamori-chan." His voice turned softer, reassuring. Had there been more lighting, she would've seen the crease in his eye. "Just tired, is all."

He freely admitted he was tired?

Takara turned around fully. "That's all?"

"That's all."

"Really."

"Really." The light tone faded, flattening a little.

It was Takara's turn to give him a searching look.

"Hinamori-chan," Hatake said her name with forced patience. The simple fact that she could plainly hear his exasperation spoke volumes. "I'm fine. It's just been...a long day."

Takara eyed Hatake's grip on the rail. "I bet it has."

He let go of the support, tucking the hand into his pocket. "Mm."

"Mmhmm."

Plainly: "Good night, Hinamori-chan."

"Good night, Hatake-san," she said, not moving from her spot. She didn't take her eyes off him.

Pointedly ignoring her, Hatake continued up the stairs for a few more steps before he stiffened.

"Hatake-san?"

His body wavered.

Takara frowned, concerned. "Hatake - "

"I'm fine."

And then he went toppling over.

He wasn't fine.

"Hatake-san!" Takara darted forward. Before she could reach him, Hatake managed to pull himself upright with a white knuckled grip on the banister.

"Fine, I'm fine." He clutched his side with his other hand as he said this.

Takara hovered. She kept her hands outstretched, ready to catch him. "Is there someone I can call for you?"

"No," Hatake said tightly.

"I can take you to the hospital."

"I don't need - " His knees buckled. This time, Takara took the brunt of his weight before he dropped to the floor. Backpedaling, the civilian eased the ninja down while being especially mindful of his head and neck. She practically cradled his head before laying him on the ground completely.

"Hatake-san?" she called softly. "Hatake-san?"

No response.

The smell was stronger now that she was closer, pungent and metallic. Takara recognized it as well as only someone who had once smelled vast quantities of it ever could. Her stomach clenched. Deliberately breathing through her mouth, Takara lowered her ear to Hatake's chest. His heartbeat was slow, steady in his softly moving chest. Thank god. She lifted a hand to his face and felt the shallow breaths through the mask. Intent on lifting his eyelid, she moved her hand closer to -

He snatched her wrist in a vice-like hold, different from his previous grip. This one hurt. His dark eye snapped open, narrowing at her with the harshest, coldest look she'd ever seen from another human being. She gasped.

Bb-thump!

For the first time, Takara was truly afraid of this man.

"Wh - ?"

"You blacked out," she said faintly, trying not to wince. Her bottom lip trembled.

To her sheer relief, Hatake released her. Takara let out a shaky breath, shoulders falling, and numbly rubbed her wrist.

"H-hey," she said, straightening. She frowned at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

Hatake grunted, attempting to sit up.

"Lay down! Hatake-san, you can't just - "

"It's fine."

"How is any of this fine?" Takara demanded, forgetting her brief flash of terror in wake of newfound exasperation. "You just fainted, for god's sake!"

"I...just need to sleep it off," Hatake managed hazily, words slow to form.

"You need to see a doctor," Takara retorted, trying to force him back down. It was a testament to Hatake's strength that even like this, weak to the point of collapsing, that he had little difficulty in sitting back up despite her physical efforts. "Did you hit your head on something? Where does it hurt?"

"Nothing hurts," he slurred, already being dragged back into unconsciousness. He slumped back to the ground, head falling straight into her lap. Stiffening at the close contact, Takara's right eye twitched as she deadpanned down at the man.

Flatly: "Hatake-san."

He said nothing.

"Hatake-san. Haaaaatake-san." She poked his masked cheek multiple times, enunciating each syllable with a pointed prod. "Ha-ta-ke-san."

Silence.

"Are you serious?"

Apparently so, as indicated by his impromptu coma.

Takara scoffed under her breath. "'Nothing,' my ass."

Tilting her head, Takara scrutinized the man with narrowed, calculating eyes. It was weird being this close to her distant neighbor, going from barely speaking to suddenly having the man practically on top of her. He wasn't a large man. Muscular, yes, but now Takara realized he had a rather lean build - small-boned. He trained to the maximum but his body simply wasn't built to be large or a hulking mass. Whatever piece of skin peaked out from the dark layers was pale, fair and smooth. Observing him this close for the first time, Takara could just make out the barest details of his features beneath the perpetual mask: a refined nose, high cheekbones, full lips. Long, pretty eyelashes. (No one deserved such pretty eyelashes, no one. Least of all stupid, stubborn men who fall unconscious on top of innocent bystanders.)

These features suggested a nice enough face, she concluded. Takara wondered why he hid it.

She lifted a hand...

And with utmost care, she felt around the side Hatake previously held before unzipping his flak vest for better inspection. She touched something warm and tacky, sticking to his shirt, and held up her palm.

Red.

Takara stared.

She took a deep breath.

"Okay... Okay, hospital. Hospital now."

Now she just needed to figure out where the nearest one was.

---

Kon, kon, kon, kon.

"Saeko...door," Kaori mumbled from her pillow.

"Kaori...you get it," Saeko said back, eyes still closed.

Kon, kon, kon!

"It's for you..."

"No it's not."

"Please?"

"No."

Konkonkonkonkonkonkonkonkon!

"I'll do the dishes," Kaori negotiated.

Saeko sighed, sitting up. "Fine."

"Mm." Kaori snuggled deeper into the covers, smiling sleepily. "Love you~"

"Yeah, yeah. You, too," the woman half-grumbled as she untangled herself from the sheets. Climbing out of bed, Saeko paused to sweep Kaori's long curls from her forehead before shuffling out their bed and out of the bedroom. Sleep dissipating, she shot the door an annoyed look as she took her sweet time making her way over. Let whoever was knocking on her door this late at night wait.

KON, KON, KON!

"Coming," Saeko called out mid-yawn, uncaring if she was actually heard or not.

"Taniguchi-san?" a voice called.

Takara?

Quietly, to herself: "What the fuck is this?"

Saeko opened the door, expression lazy. "What is it, Takara - !" Words failed her as her jaw dropped.

The kid's face was almost as white as a sheet. Her bright hair was a tangled mess, most having escaped from her bun. With shadows under them, her eyes were wild and desperate as they looked at Saeko pleadingly. Suffice to say, Takara wasn't doing too good.

Most alarming was the completely knocked out Hatake Kakashi slung over her thin shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"Could you tell me where the closest hospital is, please?" Takara asked, polite as can be. Her voice was pitched high in a small, panicked note.

"Holy hell, Takara."

"I'm sorry! He fainted and I - "

"Where've you been hiding that muscle?" Saeko leaned back slightly, giving Takara a brisk once over as the younger girl held Kakashi without visible straining. The guy was easily somewhere between 135 to 150 pounds and Takara - skinny, lanky Takara - carried him easily. And that was on top of going down stairs! Saeko whistled, impressed.

Some color returned to Takara's cheeks. "I've always - why would you - wait, never mind. That's not important right now!"

"What's up?"

"Hatake-san is hurt."

"Seriously?" Saeko took another look at Kakashi as though confirming he was indeed out cold. Honestly, Saeko found it the least surprising thing about this situation. She sighed. "Not again."

"Again?" Takara echoed.

"Kao-riiiiii," Saeko called without looking away from the surreal sight. Seriously, what was this kid packing underneath all those modest layers of clothing? "Your adopted daughter brought home a boy."

"D-daughter?" Takara sputtered.

Oh, Saeko knew that would get her. A sly grin spread across her lips, much like the cat who found a flightless bird on the ground. "Not the kinda guy I thought you'd bring to meet the parents," she teased.

"It's not - you're not my - Taniguchi-san!" Takara was incredulous. "This is serious. He needs a doctor!"

"We'll get him one," Saeko said, casually leaning against the door frame. "Do you work out?"

"Taniguchi-san, now isn't the time." Her accent got thicker and thicker the more emotional she got.

Absolutely precious. Okay, now she understood why Kaori took the clueless country kid under her wing. Watching the bright blush that lit up the girl's face, Saeko was ready to fill out the adoption papers herself.

"Uh-huh, yeah. But really, how much can you lift?"

"Taniguchi-san. Please," Takara said through gritted teeth.

"What about Takara-chan?" Kaori's tired voice asked as the other woman came out into the living room.

"Kakashi-kun fainted apparently," Saeko explained offhandedly.

A sigh. "Not again."

"How often does this happen?" Takara demanded.

"More than I bother counting," Saeko said.

"Takara-chan...are you carrying Kakashi-san?"

"Yeah, babe." Saeko grinned. "Come see for yourself."

"Oh, wow. Takara-chan, I didn't realize you were so strong!"

"Can we please get this man some medical attention?!" Takara shouted.

"Wha...what is this?"

"Hatake-san?" Takara nearly dropped the man as she tried to look over her shoulder to see him.

Kakashi grunted, barely coherent.

Saeko leaned down and peered at Kakashi's bleary-eyed face upside down. "Sup, brat."

"Sae...ko?"

"He needs to lie down," Takara told her. It was hardly a polite request.

"Yeah, yeah. Bring him on in I guess." Saeko stepped aside to allow her to pass, watching Kakashi struggling to consciousness with amusement. He is so out of it. It was kind of funny seeing the high and mighty twerp from their Academy days being carried around by a civilian.

Scratch that. Hilarious.

Kaori was already making a beeline for the bathroom. "I'll get the stuff."

Is this a thing? Takara wondered as she carried the man to the couch. Is this somehow normal here?

Kaori popped back into the room with a set of towels and a hefty first aid kit. She layered the towels across the plush coach of their living room and, with a little help from Saeko, Takara rested Kakashi on top. The man's eyelid drooped, fading in and out of focus.

"Wha...?" he muttered, unable to string words together.

"Don't talk, Kakashi-san," Kaori said softly as she knelt beside him, opening the first aid kit.

Saeko barely paid any mind. The Hatake brat was hardly the only ninja in Konoha who ignored necessary hospital visits, and this wasn't the first time Kakashi was found unconscious in the apartment complex (nor would it be the last). Instead, she focused her attention on Takara.

Takara stood off to the side, hovering in the background. Lips a tight line, she watched Kaori check Kakashi over with an otherwise straight expression. There was a focused, indecipherable look in her eyes; she didn't look away once. Saeko noticed the blood smeared across the girl's hands where they clenched and unclenched at her sides. There were stains all over her clothes. Kakashi's blood. But the kid didn't seem to notice or care.

It was kind of cute, Saeko supposed, how worried the little farm girl was over a ninja - a ninja she didn't actually know for that matter. Hatake Kakashi, this generation's prodigy, at that. Saeko had forgotten there were such earnest people like Hinamori Takara in the world.

Kakashi's eye opened, squinting at the ceiling. His head lolled to the side. "Hello, Kaori-san."

"Hello, Kakashi-san," Kaori returned dryly as she pressed gauze against his side. "Mind holding this while I tape it?"

"Mm." More lucid, Kakashi did as she asked. "What time is it?"

"A little past two a.m.," Saeko said dryly. "Can't say I really needed the early wake up call." From the corner of her eye, Saeko watched Takara's reaction as she said this. Instead of the litany of apologies she expected, Takara's jaw tightened.

Huh.

"Sorry about that," Kakashi said, not sounding the least apologetic. The little punk. "Give me a second and I'll be out of your hair."

"Uh-huh. Sure, brat. You owe me coffee."

Saeko noticed Takara's eyes narrow at Kakashi. Her face shifted, tightening, hardening into something darker. Saeko had pegged the girl from the beginning as someone who held back herself back, all polite smiles and soft words, but with something brewing under the surface. Something potent and angry. It slipped out in random bursts, rare but sudden, and disappeared just as quickly as the girl checked herself.

Saeko kind of wanted to see what would slip out tonight.

"Do you want me to call a doctor, Kakashi-san?" Kaori asked, polite.

"Thanks, Kaori-san, but I'm fine. I just need to sleep it off - "

"No."

Three sets of eyes simultaneously turned to the civilian. Takara's jaw was locked, eyes hard as she outright glowered at Kakashi.

"Takara-chan..." Kaori started, cautioning.

"No," she repeated, firmer. Decisive. "You need a doctor."

"Listen, Hinamori - " Kakashi started.

"You collapsed on the stairwell not once or twice but three times, I had to physically carry you to move you, and now you are bleeding on your neighbor's couch."

"Yeah, and that thing was expensive - " Saeko snarked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Not the time, Taniguchi-san," Takara snapped without so much as glancing at the retired kunoichi. Her glare remained solely on Kakashi.

Saeko raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing, more interested in Kakashi's response.

"I can stitch it up myself," Kakashi countered. His voice was calm, level, but there was a band of steel around his words.

Takara made a noise like an angry cat. "You can't even walk on your own."

"I know you're trying to help but - "

"But nothing!"

Kakashi's eye narrowed, giving Takara the iciest look Saeko had witnessed from the man to date. And she'd some outright frigid looks from the cold man over the years. "This is none of your concern."

"Funny. I'm feeling pretty concerned here."

"It has nothing to do with you."

"Why would that stop me?" Takara retorted. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine."

"NO, YOU'RE NOT!"

A moment of silence. Stares. Saeko glanced between the two. Kaori held her breath, tense.

Closing her eyes, Takara pinched the bridge of her nose. She took a long, steady breath. "You're not 'fine,' Hatake-san. You're injured. Just...let us get you to the hospital and I promise I'll leave you alone after that."

Kakashi and Takara shared a tense moment of eye contact, neither backing down.

"...okay."

Saeko's eyebrows shot up.

"Okay," Takara agreed, nodding.

Kaori's mouth fell open.

"Is there a phone?" Takara asked, turning to their impromptu hosts. Her voice was calmer now, level, but brisk. Business-like. Under the heavy crease of her brow, her eyes were sharp and direct.

"In the kitchen," Saeko said. She shot her partner a meaningful look. "Kaori can show you."

Kaori blinked, catching on. "Come on, Takara-chan."

At the younger girl's skeptical expression, Saeko said, "I'll keep an eye on him. He's not going anywhere."

Kakashi shot her a betrayed look. Hand on hip, Saeko raised an eyebrow back at him mockingly.

Takara gave a jerky nod, reluctantly getting up. She went straight to the for the kitchen with Kaori close behind her, following the younger woman out of the room. Just before leaving, Takara spared Kakashi a quick, final glance - as if confirming he was still there. The hard set of her expression wavered, breaking down into something vulnerable and concerned, before she quickly turned away.

After the civilians left, Saeko turned to Kakashi and smirked. "There's no way in hell she's going to leave you alone after this."

Kakashi ignored her, pointedly looking away from her.

Saeko snorted. "Sulk all you want, twerp. You're getting exactly what's coming to you."

This was exactly why Saeko was his least favorite senpai in the Academy, Kakashi remembered sourly.

---

Still in a loose sleep shirt and shorts, Takara sat in the waiting room with only an unfamiliar ninja in the far corner, a sobbing woman and her son across from her, a quiet old man, and the stressed looking secretary at the front desk for company. Takara squirmed, crossing and uncrossing her legs, and tried to find a place for her hands. She chewed nervously on her bottom lip. Everything felt too hot and cold all at once. It vaguely occurred to Takara that regardless of where, all hospitals were alike. She hadn't expected to find something in common between Konoha and Aya.

She looked at the glass-doored entrance where through the glass, she saw the first beams of morning light as it hit daybreak. Six a.m. A few hours since Hatake was taken by medic-nin to the hospital. This hospital, she knew. She checked. She made sure.

Picking at her nails, Takara sent furtive glances at the other rooms occupants, doubtlessly people waiting for news of loved ones. The old man was the only person who came after Takara but he hadn't asked about Hatake Kakashi. No one did. Takara was still waiting for someone - a family member, a friend, even a co-worker, somebody who would be listed as an emergency contact - to come in and ask what happened to their son/brother/friend/co-worker. Better to hear it from her than an overworked medic who only had a chart to read off of, Takara knew.

"No news is good news."

Takara turned her head towards the old man who sat a chair away from her. He smiled at her kindly, crow's feet deepening. His eyes were pale and tired.

"I'm sorry, sir, what?"

"It looks like this is your first time here," the old man explained. His voice was raspy with age and exhaustion. "The waiting is torture, I know, but it'll pass."

She hesitated, unsure how to respond. "...thank you."

"Who are you waiting for, dear?"

"I...I don't really know," she admitted, looking at her lap. Hatake's mother, father, siblings? Aunt, uncle, cousin? Maybe he had children that didn't know their father was in the ER. Her heart seized at the thought.

Oh, god. Oh, god, ohgodohgodohgodohgod - !

The man's face turned understanding, sympathetic. "That's the worst kind of waiting."

"Sorry?" Takara mumbled, barely paying attention.

"Not knowing where you stand with someone while you wait, not knowing if you'll ever get the chance to figure it out."

"I - oh. Oh, no. It's not like that," Takara said quickly. She gave a small laugh, almost hysterical. it sounded off key and wrong and oh, god, why was she laughing in an ER waiting room while a woman was crying over her dying husband? "I know where we stand. I'm just his neighbor."

Gently, the man reached over the chair between them and set a gnarled hand on hers. "Young lady, if that were true, you wouldn't be here right now."

Pale-faced, Takara met the man's knowing gaze and said nothing after that.

Eventually, the old man left when a doctor called him in. Then the ninja. The woman eventually took her son home. Others came and went. And Takara waited.

She waited and waited and waited.

And no one came.

Takara was the only one waiting for Hatake.

That day, Takara learned something new about her neighbor.

Hatake was a very lonely man; she was right about that. But there was more to it.

Hatake was alone.

---

"Miss. Miss!"

Takara jerked awake with a snort, heart raising. "Huh?"

A stocky, brown-haired man in scrubs stood in front of her. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"Uuh... Kind of?" Takara blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend what was going on. There was a crick in her neck that made it hard to look up at the man. "What time is it?"

"11:57. A.M. And what do you mean 'kind of?'"

The news jerked Takara wide awake. 11:57? It's almost noon!

"My neighbor, he... I found him unconscious and brought him in. I mean, I encouraged him to come in," she fumbled. Her mouth felt dry and cottony as she spoke. "I just...just wanted to stay until I knew he was okay."

"And your neighbor is...?"

"Hatake Kakashi."

"Hatake?" Now both eyebrows lifted.

Takara cleared her throat. "Yes. Hatake-san."

"You got him to actually check in?"

Well, technically. "...yes?"

"Oh, good."

"Good?"

"What's your name?"

"Hinamori Takara?" Why was everything she saying coming out as a question?

The man flipped a page over his clipboard, clicking a pen. "I'd like for you to answer some questions for me, Hinamori-san."

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Takara asked skeptically, brow furrowed.

"Ikeda Makoto, ER nurse," the man introduced himself briskly, already writing furiously.

"Nurse?"

"Yes, nurse." He shot her a defensive look.

Glancing at his badge, Takara bobbed her head quickly. "Oh. Oh, of course. Right, right. I see. I'm sorry. I'm a little out of it. It's - it's been a day."

His expression softened. "I understand. Could you tell me what happened? What symptoms Hatake-san was displaying before he collapsed?"

"It's a little hard to say," Takara started. She described her initial encounter with Hatake, telling Ikeda how "off" the ninja had seemed and how he collapsed the first time. She spared no detail in the wounds she discovered, how Hatake didn't respond to his name, and how she had to carry him down flights of stairs to get him help. Everything else was a blur.

Ikeda jotted everything down, pen hardly leaving the paper. "So you come in contact with Hatake-san's blood?"

Red.

Takara swallowed. "Yes."

The nurse nodded, not looking up from his clipboard. "It happens. As long as you've been vaccinated - "

"Vaccinated?"

He paused. Ikeda slowly looked up from his clipboard and stared at her warily. "You have had the HBV vaccine, right?"

"The what?"

"HBV. To prevent hepatitis B," he clarified, blank-faced.

"I...I don't think so." Now that the adrenaline has burned out, Takara's sleep-deprived brain had trouble keeping up. "Should I?"

"Definitely," the nurse said without hesitation, flipping a page on notepad and writing something else down. "We can get the first dosage lined up for you as early as tomorrow. What's your health insurance?"

"I don't have any."

The pen came to a halt. He blinked. "Your job doesn't provide any?"

Takara swallowed. "I'm still looking for one."

"Are you covered by a family member? Konoha ninja insurance sometimes covers entire clans, depending on which one it is."

"I don't have any family in Konoha. And no...no shinobi in my family."

"So one of the nearby villages outside of Konoha? You could talk to a doctor back home."

Takara's expression turned dry. "Aomori is a little far for a doctor's visit."

Brown eyes widened. "Aomori?"

"Indeed."

"What are you doing here?" he asked incredulously.

Takara smiled thinly. "I needed a change of scenery. And you?"

Ikeda snorted at her response but answered, "My job."

"None in your home village?"

"There are more jobs for medical professions here than other villages. And higher pay. Plus it makes for more interesting work. For obvious reasons."

"I noticed," Takara muttered, thinking back to Hatake. The thought of him alone in a distant hospital room did awful, twisting things to her stomach. Just the sight of him on the stretcher when medic nin picked him up made her cringe.

"What gave me away?" Ikeda asked suddenly, breaking her from her morbid thoughts.

"Pardon? Gave what away?"

"That I'm not local."

Takara's eyes slanted. "You use people's family names."

"Aah, of course." Ikeda nodded.

"If you don't mind me asking..."

He clicked his pen, smiling knowingly. "How did I get a job in Konoha?"

"Yes!" Takara exclaimed. "And at a hospital!"

"There's high demand for medical staff here, so they hire even from outside the village. Also..." His eyes swiftly scanned the room. Leaning closer to Takara, he gestured for her to listen and spoke in a lowered voice: "Background checks. Lots of them. Security checks. Pretty sure I had tails for a good six months when I finally got started."

"A tail?" Takara's eyes bugged out, pulling another chuckle from the nurse.

"Maybe I still do. I wouldn't put it past them," he said wryly, shrugging like it was no big deal. "Some of the more uptight shinobi still don't like me poking them with needles 'cause I didn't grow up in the Leaf or have a 'good reason' to remain loyal."

"A good reason being...?" Takara hedged.

"I'm not married to anybody. I don't have any family here. I'm not from one of the original clans. No personal reason despite growing up only eight miles outside the village gates. My family's been in Nihonmatsu before Konoha was even an idea."

Digesting this information, Takara slowly asked, "And how long have you worked here?"

"Four years next fall," Ikeda deadpanned

"...wow."

He shot her a look that said, I know, right?

"That's a long time."

"Sure is."

"And they still don't - ?"

"Nope."

"That's...wow." Takara felt helpless.

"I know."

Her hopes for a job crashed and burned that day. "They...outsiders aren't really cut any slack here, huh?"

"Borderline discriminatory," he muttered, agreeing. "Blood is everything here."

Blood. Takara rubbed her hands against her pants. She could still feel the warmth of Hatake's blood on her hands despite washing them twice.

His brown eyes cast a somber look at the emergency doors. "But you can't really blame them. The things I see here... And those are just the after effects."

He became a jonin when he was thirteen.

"No," Takara whispered. "You can't."

"So." The nurse drew back, sunny smile in place. "No health insurance, no job, no family connections."

In return, Takara gave him a perky, "None!"

"And no HBV vaccine."

"Nope."

"Hm."

"Mmhmm."

He tapped his pen against his chin, lips pursed.

Takara chewed on her bottom lip. "Is it really that important?"

"Kind of," the nurse said, oddly chipper despite the topic. "I hate to say it, but if you're going to be living here, chances are you're gonna come in contact with blood again. That's assuming you haven't caught anything from Hatake-san."

"...oh. Okay." The worst part? She'd already figured that out.

"Tell you what: I'll take care of it right now."

Startled, Takara blinked. "What? But I can't - "

"Don't worry about it. You got Hatake Kakashi checked into the hospital. I don't think my supervisor will mind a freebie."

"What does Hatake-san have to do with this?"

Ikeda shot her an incredulous look.

"What?"

"You have no idea who he is, do you," Ikeda said in a wondering tone.

"Ummm...my neighbor?"

"He's - yeah, no. Never mind." He shook his head.

"Never mind what?"

"Patient confidentiality," he said swiftly, to which Takara pouted. "Now. Let's get you vaccinated."

"I don't need charity," Takara said abruptly.

He glared. "You need help. I'm offering. Don't be stubborn. I get it enough from the ninja."

Takara returned his look with a flat one of her own.

Narrowing his eyes, the nurse considered. "Okay. How about this: you're going to need a series of four shots in a six month period. Surely you'll have scrounged up something by then. You can worry about payment then."

Her expression cleared. "I can work with that."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Passing on free health care? You're an odd one, Hinamori-san."

She shrugged. "I don't want to take advantage."

He shook his head again. "Alright, alright. C'mon. Let's get this over with."

The nurse lead her down a series of hallways that all looked alike, similar to a maze. As they rounded a corner, Ikeda came to a stop at an open room and instructed Takara to have a seat on a chair. He left her briefly and came back with a small bottle of clear liquid, clearly labeled. Takara watched with wide eyes as he washed his hands and then snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.

"Ikeda-san?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not very good with shots," she admitted, voice small.

Ikeda uncapped the needle, looking all too pleased. "Perfect! It's been forever since I've had a patient squeamish around pointy things."

---

Kakashi woke up surrounded by white and his nose burning. Everything was hazy at first, barely recognizable, before he pieced everything together. Hospital. He was at the hospital.

He sighed. "Maah, not again..."

The white walls were almost more familiar than the equally bland walls of his crappy studio apartment. But regardless of how much time he may have spent in the hospital, Kakashi still could not get over the sharp smell of anesthetics and death that permeated the walls. Without his mask, it was almost overwhelming.

He lazily scanned the room, finding no one there, and then eyed the nearby window. Second floor? Too easy. Kakashi tried to sit up but immediately felt the searing pain in his abdomen. His body cringed, pulling at IV tubes and lines, and he promptly fell back onto the bed. Why did his body feel so weak?

Kakashi sighed. There went that plan. He slumped further into the pillows (oh, good, two this time, he noted, pleased) and pulled the thin sheet over his mouth and nose to block against the smell. Kakashi looked around the room, taking everything in. The curtain usually separating patients was pulled back; the room was surprisingly vacant this time, offering a temporary privacy. Well, now's as good a time as any to take a nap.

As if the universe sensed his intent to rest, the door opened.

Kakashi slid under the sheets even more to shield his bare face.

"Ah, Kakashi-san, you're awake. How are you feeling?" a kindly old nurse asked, moving towards him.

"Alright."

"Do you mind if I check you over, see how you're doing?"

There was nothing Kakashi loathed more than being poked and prodded by medics but he allowed it without complaint. The nurse's hands were cold as they pressed against his skin, the stethoscope chilling. He breathed in deeply when instructed, then out. Coughed once, twice. She checked his temperature (99.8 degrees) and - his least favorite part - examined his eyes. Throughout the check up, the nurse asked him various questions (are you feeling faint? cold? hot? have you been smoking or drinking? are you sexually active?) and he answered each one (no, no, a little, not recently, ...no) placidly.

Routine.

"You have a visitor," the nurse informed him as she wrote on his chart and he retreated back under the sheet.

"Who is it?" Kakashi asked wearily. Gai most likely or maybe even Asuma. Please be Asuma.

"A young lady," she said, giving him a coy look.

Kakashi stilled.

"I haven't seen her around before but she's been waiting all night and most of the day."

Oh, no. Please no.

"She said she's your neighbor."

Kakashi's eye rolled up to the ceiling which he contemplated with the seriousness of a Shinto monk.

"There's no way in hell she's going to leave you alone after this."

He really hated his old school senpai.

---

Hinamori lingered by the door awkwardly, understanding that she had no place here. After a moment's deliberation, Hinamori inhaled through her nose and rolled her shoulders back, straightening. She stepped further into the room until she stood at Kakashi's bedside. Her hair alone was the most colorful thing in the bleached hospital room but laid in a tangled, mussed mess on top of her head. Hinamori was a like a brush of vibrancy among the white walls. She looked up to meet his blank gaze with bright, bright green eyes.

There was no smile.

Odd, Kakashi thought. He kept his head down despite impulse to sit up and peer at her closely, instead keeping his face well hidden under the thin hospital sheet.

"Good afternoon, Hatake-san."

Well, at least this part was familiar. Kakashi responded, following along with the script they'd created over the time Hinamori had lived in Konoha. "Yo."

Quietly: "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, thanks." Kakashi refused to offer anything more.

Hinamori expected this, giving a jerky nod in understanding. "That's good."

More silence.

He noticed the bags under her eyes. Her skin was pale, color lost from obvious stress. She was exhausted.

Kakashi decided to just come out with it. "What are you doing here, Hinamori-chan?"

Hinamori closed her eyes, sighing. She plopped down in the closest chair next to the bed and slumped. Reaching up, she rubbed at her forehead. Without looking up, she told him, "I stayed in the waiting room in case whoever came in for you had any questions. About what happened, how I found you, things like that..."

And no one came, she didn't say. She didn't have to. Kakashi knew already: there was no one left to come see him.

He said nothing.

Hinamori didn't look at him. Hands folded like a prayer, she studied the tiled floor. "I've been here since."

He waited for her intrusive questions, for her to ask why nobody was called (he had no emergency contacts) or why he was alone (they all died) or why he didn't go to the hospital in the first place (he hated it). He waited for these questions and prepared a sarcastic, evasive answer for each one. Kakashi waited.

"The clothes you wore yesterday are no good now," Hinamori continued. Because of the blood. "I can grab some new ones for you if you'd like."

Hinamori, in his apartment?

"You don't have to," he said immediately.

Without looking up, Hinamori smiled sardonically. "I understand. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, thanks." Kakashi was about to ask her to leave when the girl stood up. She placed a small bag on his bedside table.

"Alright then." Finally, she looked down at him. Hinamori tilted her head, clearly debating something to herself. She said carefully, "A stranger from outside the village moves in next to you and suddenly won't leave you alone. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

She smiled and Kakashi knew it wasn't genuine. This smile was for his sake. Kakashi thought that he'd never seen anyone look so tired before which in itself was odd and out of place.

"It's fine," he said quietly. And surprisingly, it was. "Thank you for your help, Hinamori-chan."

The tired edges of that smile softened, gentling her expression. The light brown in her eyes looked more gold in this lighting. "No need to thank me," Hinamori said. "Neighbors have to look out for each other, you know?"

He never thought about it that way before.

To his surprise, she bowed. Messy bangs fell into her face. Being so close, the motion shifted the air and sent the fragrance of her shampoo straight at him. The sharpness of tea tree oil and soothing lavender undertones hit him all at once. The suddenness, so close and so personal, made him light-headed.

"I'll leave you to your rest then."

Wait, what?

Kakashi blinked after her. Hinamori was already at the door, leaving him in peace, quiet, and complete confusion. He didn't have to shake her off? Push her away? Tell her to leave or simply escape?

Opening the door, Hinamori smiled at him over shoulder. "Hatake-san?"

"Eh?"

"Please be a little more considerate towards yourself from next time around."

His gray eye widened.

"Get well soon! I'll see you at home later." And she was gone.

What?

Kakashi stared at the closed door. He expected it to burst open at any second, a loud and annoyingly cheerful Hinamori marching back in with a chirpy "Kidding!" and then she'd perch on that chair and talk all day until nurses took pity on Kakashi and shooed her out. But none of that happened. The room returned to its previous quiet, suddenly paler without Hinamori's bright presence. The only thing that hinted at her ever being there was the lingering scent of lavender and freshly turned earth...and the bag she'd left.

Still laying down, Kakashi eyed the mysterious bag curiously. Ignoring the cramping in his abdomen, Kakashi slowly sat up. The sheet slid down his body, pooling in his lap, and the cool, bleach-smelling air hit his bare face full force. Kakashi wrinkled his nose as it assaulted his sensitive nose. He almost wished Hinamori came back so at least her solid presence with its warm scent would block out the harsh hospital smells. He reached over and plucked the small bag from the table, paper crinkling.

Basic toiletries including a travel-sized toothbrush and toothpaste, a book (How to Make Friends and Influence People? Kakashi narrowed his eyes. Very funny, Hinamori), and something light blue and tissue paper thin. Squinting, he pulled it out of the bag.

A surgical mask.

When another nurse came to check in on him (more to ensure he was still in the hospital than to check his vitals), this one a short man with brown hair, the mask was securely on his face as Kakashi leaned against the bed frame, reading.

---

Everything was so dark, the world around her black and white and grainy. She didn't recognize it. All she knew was that she had to keep running.

"Kara."

Sticks snapped underneath her bare feet, rocks digging into skin. It hurt but she had to keep running.

"Kara."

Run, run, run, run - just keep running. Run and don't look back. She had to run, she had to get away.

"Kara."

Branches snagged at her hair, catching it. She cried out, snatching at the long strands, and tugged them back desperately - trying to get free. Something pulled back, jerking her head back until her neck strained. Then pulling some more.

Pulling and pulling and pulling -

Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the hair closest to her scalp and yanked it free. Then she heard a horrible ripping noise followed by an awful, terrible pain as her hair was ripped from the very roots. Her vision flooded with color.

"KARA!"

Red.

The color was red.

Red, red, red, red, red -

Red blood. Blood.

More blood.

Why was there so much blood?

Her brother's voice, younger, more innocent than she'd heard it in years. "Kaa-san?"

"Hotaka, wait!"

Her body jerked, the air rushing out of her lungs, and she felt like she was falling. Her eyes snapped open and stared, panicked, at the ceiling while her body seized like it was no longer her own. Paralyzed. It felt like there was a heavy weight sitting on top of her chest, crushing her rib cage and pinning her down, and she just -

- couldn't -

- move.

Inhale. Exhale.

Thirty seconds went by.

Slowly, control came back to her. First in her feet, then her legs, and then she was sitting up. Heart hammering, Takara lowered her head to her knees and tried to calm her breathing. Fingers dug into her hair, nails sharp. Stupidly, she felt relief when she felt the soft texture there. Takara let out a shaky breath, rubbing her head with the heels of her hand. A furtive glance at her alarm clocked revealed that it was just shortly after four in the morning. Not bad.

It was a little later than her usual, she realized with some satisfaction. At least she got a little more sleep tonight.

Legs like rubber, Takara stumbled to her feet and made for the closet. Today she had an interview to prepare for.

---

Kakashi laid on his side, facing the distant wall that separated his apartment from that of the civilian girl. The loud, nosy civilian who apparently didn't know when to quit. The civilian who might have inadvertently saved his life with her meddling.

"At first, we thought it was a typical knife wound but when we ran some standard blood tests, we found an unknown toxin in your bloodstream. It seems to be slow acting, taking its time to work its way into the body before breaking down its basic functions. Starting with blood coagulation apparently. I believe its design is to infect the target slowly, so they don't even know they're poisoned until it's too late. W'ere still running an analysis on the toxin but if you could tell me about the blade that cut you - "

He supposed he should be grateful.

Mismatched eyes thoughtful, Kakashi stared at the wall as he thought back to that night. He'd already figured Hinamori as someone who didn't give up easily, as evident from her dogged attempts at friendship every time she saw him, but she showed a fiercer, unrelenting side to her resolve - a hard-headedness that refused to take "no" for an answer. He hadn't expected that from the overly polite, accommodating girl. Really, though, he should have from someone that faked almost all her smiles.

Maybe Kakashi himself was a little curious about who Hinamori Takara was. He didn't know what to think of her anymore.

Turning over onto his other side, Kakashi listened to the familiar noises as he allowed himself back into a half-awake sleep similar to those on missions. It wasn't until he heard the door leading into the hallway open then close (again, no lock) and Hinamori's light footsteps that Kakashi sunk into a deeper sleep.

There was no crying from the other apartment this time around.

---

Author's Note: Neighbors should look after one another, don't you think? | ￣∀￣ | These two are definitely picking up things about each other that most people completely miss, and I love writing it.

I really liked the title for this because it references Takara's obvious concern, Saeko's lack of concern, and even Kakashi's own small (tiny, microscopic, please-don't-mention-it) concerns for Takara. What did you guys think of Saeko's brief POV? And the addition of Ikeda, another "non-local" but someone who grew up near the village? Thoughts on some of the angst on Takara's part (for once not Kakashi)? And we got the titular character himself! What did you think of Naruto's brief entrance? Also, I really want to hear what y'all made of Takara's characters as the duality of her personality starts to make itself apparent.

I feel like I'm just throwing new OC's at you people left and right and not giving quite enough canon character interaction but...Takara isn't going to be spending all her time with a bunch of ninja. Canon characters, even the ones she does (eventually) become close to, are constantly in and out of the village and she has a life of her own. This life includes the people she'll actually see everyday. I also wanted to use this fic to flesh out different civilians and their lives in Konoha. The young retired veterans (Saeko), people from ninja clans who never become ninja (Kaori), random retirees with some ninjutsu training (the librarian), and random people from just outside the village (Ikeda). There's more but not for a little while. I hope this doesn't bore anyone, especially as the not-even-real-friends-yet romance takes its time building up between these two weirdos.

Question of the chapter: what do you do to take care of yourself when you really just really low and need a break? Self-care is extremely important, and I want all of you guys to be healthy. Please take care of yourselves better than Kakashi. He is not a role model for healthy coping skills.

Also: I've started a poll for what the Kakashi + Takara "ship name" shall be just for fun. Everyone, send in your votes~