kakashi || "for a few scarecrows more"; untie you
“You seem… down.”
Kakashi pushed down his headband yet again to cover his sharingan eye. It hurt to keep them both open, really. Restless sleep would do that to a guy. “What makes you say that?”
“I haven’t been completely honest with you.” You could feel his words vibrating throughout his chest. “Tonight was kind of a dry run, to test how I felt. I really shouldn’t have used you like that, but it was sort of an experiment to see if I really did… feel that way for you. And I was right, but it still put you on the spot and I shouldn’t have done it. Plus, it was kind of stupid on my part, realizing my feelings when there’s no way you’ll return them.”
The jounin shrugs, the crumpled cigarette in his mouth moving rapidly as he spoke. “You’re paying even less attention to my stories about my re—about my totally platonic interactions with Kurenai. You look like you’re about to pass out at any moment. Your eyes are bloodshot. You didn’t tie your headband tight enough, so it’s slipping down a little. Oh, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you were on time. It’s really not at all like you, you know.”
“Well, I’m…” He hesitated, realizing he was about to divulge his feelings. After all, he couldn’t have Asuma finding out what you said and telling Kurenai, could he? Considering all the work she put into being the best wingwoman possible, he… really didn’t have enough experience in this sort of situation to gauge her hypothetical reaction. Besides, married couples told each other almost everything, right? Right. Kakashi coughed fakely, slumped over the table. “I’m fine.”
Feeling his heart beat like crazy against your shoulder blade, you knew he was waiting for you to say something in response. To confirm or deny that you felt the same way. To acknowledge his feelings and then pick one path or another. But you had to take the future into account. You had to understand the effect that a casual union and the inevitable split would have on your relationship as friends. You had to take into consideration the hours that Kakashi put into his work, you had to remember your job, your own responsibilities… you had no idea what he would be like in a real relationship as opposed to a test drive.
Asuma stared at him with an eyebrow raised, his tone laced with concern. “Doesn’t look like it. What, did she turn you down?” His eye widened. How the hell did the jounin guess his problem with such accuracy—? Okay, that was it; that was officially the last straw. Kakashi let his neck slacken completely, face down between his arms. He couldn’t see his coworker’s expression, but he could hear the sympathetic smile in his voice. “Rejection’s tough, isn’t it? Some more sake, please. Thank you.”
“How did you figure it out?” His voice cracked. Kakashi cursed himself. “I mean, I thought I kept it better under wraps than… How?”
“When you’re in a rel—when you’re as single as I am,” Asuma corrected himself with a sense of urgency, but Kakashi really didn’t have it in him to question the sudden change, “you notice more things. You haven’t, ah… done anything since Rin, right?” No comment. Absolutely no comment. He wasn’t positive he was capable of breathing at the moment. Did the jounin mean sexually or romantically? Either way, he… No comment. Asuma chuckled, appearing to take his silence as an answer. “Correct me if I’m wrong—actually, if you could move at all, so I know you’re not comatose, that would be great—but that makes this your first rejection, then, doesn’t it? That’s sad, though. She seemed really into you.”
Kakashi reluctantly sat up straight, running a hand through spiky silver hair. “Way to rub it in.” He moved to open up Icha Icha Innocence, but he couldn’t do that without reminding himself of you, yet again. The way you cuddled up against him like second nature, the euphoric sensation of holding you in bed, the feel of your smaller fingers intertwined in his… the way that dress hugged your curves, how adorable you got when your face tinted red… He felt like a junkie, addicted to you and going through withdrawal. “Actually, it’s worse.”
After offering the copy ninja a cigarette, which he politely declined, Asuma offered him another cigarette, but this time with a sympathetic look. “How can it be worse?”
---
You sat in your bed, already pissed off—and it was three in the afternoon. God… how had you slept in that long? That should have been impossible. The genin brat pounded on your window, hollering about something or other, but you didn’t even have the energy to shrug it off. Almost falling on your way out of bed, you went to get dressed, before realizing you were already in a T-shirt and jeans. Jeans. Holy… fuck. You slammed a palm against your forehead, dragging your fingertips down your face. How tired do you have to be to fall asleep in jeans?
“I’m hungover on life,” you told your ceiling fan, who kept spinning spitefully, “and you’re just some common bitch.” Why couldn’t you do that? Having one purpose and fulfilling it perfectly, that is. Your ceiling fan didn’t have to worry about hot neighbors and weird fake-dating situations. Your ceiling fan only had to worry about electricity and being plugged into the ceiling, or something—you weren’t some kind of air conditioning scientist. This ceiling fan was more self-actualized than you could ever hope to be.
Like, it knew its purpose. Being a part of the ceiling, providing minimal cooling, whirring around fast enough to add a significant amount of money to your security deposit, just… spinning around all the time. As soon as you press the button, it does what it needs to. Not without fail, but… but it never had to reach higher. It knows exactly what it’s capable of. You had around twenty-six years of life experience, and maybe fifteen on this ceiling fan, so how come it knew more about its purpose than you knew about yours?
Upon realizing that you were actually jealous—like, on the brink of tears kind of jealous—of a ceiling fan, you muttered, “Wait, am I high?” before rushing to open the door.
The noises went from somewhat muted shouting amongst the typical music of nature in the bright and early morning to a display of panic akin to a junkie on a bad trip as you opened the door to your own apartment. You watched in sluggish confusion as your neighbor’s student ran to you.
“What’s the blunder, tiny thunder?” As you ran a hand through your catastrophic bedhead, you already found yourself seriously regretting your decision to wake up this morning. “You here to stalk another father figure? I gotta warn you, though, I don’t know where Jiraiya is for sure, but if it does have something to do with the Icha Icha book signing, I’m out, because—”
“What did you do to Kakashi-sensei?!” Naruto yelled, completely ignoring the god-awful nickname you gave him in favor of trying to threaten you. You grimaced at the genin’s uncanny ability to dredge up any topic you didn’t want to talk about, which appeared to be a direct variation between the amount of discomfort behind the scenes and his oblivious comments. “Is he under a genjutsu? Did you drug him? Is he an alien!?”
God damn it… You winced at the topic. And you were trying so hard to focus on other things… and by trying so hard, you meant not at all… Closing your eyes for a minute and exhaling, trying to keep that knot in your chest from unraveling at the drop of a hat, you leaned against your own doorframe. “That’s… a rather sore subject. What did he do?”
Naruto grasped the collar of your shirt, voice grave as he yanked you down. “He was on time.”
----
Back in the restaurant, Kakashi gestured vaguely. Asuma sat opposite the copy ninja, past several rounds of sake, spellbound after having picked his chin up off of the floor. “Anyways,” the copy ninja feigned an aloof calmness, “I should be off. The next installment of my favorite book series comes out today, and I don’t want to miss the signing.”
“You should seriously talk to her about this,” mumbled the sensei of the tenth team of genin, slumped over the table. Kakashi didn’t even need to consider that option to know it would only end in disaster. “That’s… that’s a real issue…”
“Okay, look,” Kakashi sat back down after having attempted to get up. “I tried. I said how I felt, and she… that’s how she responded. They’re valid concerns,” he noticed Kurenai file into the seat next to Asuma, strangely close, but continued nonetheless, “that I don’t know how to refute. I mean, she is a civilian, and I’m not. Plus, I work long hours. It makes sense for that to cause a build-up of pressure on a relationship. Not to mention the fact that I could die, or someone could target her. That would kill me and it’s a completely fair perspective. I’m going to respect what she said, and leave it at that until I’m over her and we can be friends again—” The copy ninja ran a shaky hand through his gravity-defying hair a few times, taking a deep breath and returning to a more stable tone. “I’m sorry. I flew off the handle.”
By the time Kakashi opened his uncovered eye, Gai was also sitting across from him. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, before shrugging it off. His plan was to storm out as slowly as possible, to prove that he was calm right now, and under control, until Kurenai spoke.
“Sure, those are hard to refute,” she stared at the wood markings on the table and the puddles of condensation from spilled drinks, “but not impossible.” Kakashi didn’t dare turn around to look at her. “I get it. You’re worked up over this, and for good reason. I can tell she meant a lot to you. But look at you. You raised your voice about two decibels and called it flying off the handle.” The jounin captain of the eighth team of genin looked up at him from her position squished between Gai and Asuma. “Sometimes avoiding risk is a good thing, but when you’re so afraid of losing someone that you don’t let yourself get attached, you start to miss out on the good opportunities. I mean, we don’t live forever, right?”
“Kurenai is right, old rival.” Gai grins. Kakashi’s resolve crumbles and he turns around, still refusing to sit down. “I go on about the power of youth, but that’s not just for me and Lee’s show-stopping taijutsu or the beauty of teaching something new to the next generation…!” The man with a bowl cut wiped a few tears from his eyes. “The power of youth is the ability to experiment, to learn from your mistakes. And… trust me on this one, Kakashi,” Gai’s smile drops. He’s dead serious. It’s a rare sight. “You never learn if you don’t fuck up a little.”
Something in the metaphysical area between his chest and his stomach twisted, hardening and sharpening. “That’s a nice sentiment,” the silver-haired jounin could barely hear himself through the blood roaring in his ears, “but I should minimize the amount of people I hurt. She’s smart enough to realize that. Besides, I’m twenty-seven,” his gaze honed onto Gai. “I don’t think the power of youth is on my side anymore.”
“Hey,” the smoker at the table cut in. “Have a bit of fucking faith, why don’t you?”
Something about the way he said it made it sound different, registering fully. Of… of course. He had to have faith. He had to think twice before he gave his heart away. And besides, he knew all the games you played, because he played them, too. Still, he needed time off from all of that emotion, a bit of time to pick his heart up off the floor—Kakashi shook his head like one of his ninken after a training session in the rain. This was serious business, he didn’t have time to remember song lyrics. Asuma made a ‘tch’ sort of noise, flicking his cigarette—already put out, thankfully—at Kakashi, who swatted it away even in his delirium.
The bearded jounin shrugged, not even reaching for another camel. “Right. The two of you are both cynical beyond belief in your world views and attracted to each other. I don’t think you’ll find that kind of match just anywhere.” Kurenai watched him speak with baited breath. “Besides, you're not even in your thirties yet.” Asuma spreads his hands out in a fan. “All four of us, including you, teach children. You had faith in Naruto. You can have faith in anything. Go try again, Kakashi. What you told me she said wasn’t a full rejection.”
“I… alright.” Kakashi felt that familiar wave of calm flow over him again, and he had strength enough to flash the group a closed-eye smile. “Thanks, man. See you around.”
“See you,” Asuma lit another cigarette.
Sakura and Sasuke stood in front of you, the kunoichi fidgeting with her kunai knives nervously. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay, so was he right on time, or was he early?”
“He was early,” Sakura looked like she had seen a ghost. “He got there ten minutes early and apologized for being late, saying—”
“That he got lost on the path of life,” you interrupted her, only to realize that the four of you had spoken in unison. “Ha… he does use that one a lot…” You scratched the back of your neck. “Anyways, continue, Sakura. Sorry for interrupting.”
Now the look on Sakura’s face more so resembled someone who had been possessed by a ghost. She bit her lip. “His clock was set an hour late. God, I’m so worried—”
“It’ll be okay, Sakura,” Naruto asserted with no proof, “we’ll get him back to normal. Now you,” he pointed directly at you with a slight growl, making piercing eye contact, “have to fix this!” You blinked. “I don’t know how, or what you’re gonna have to do, but you’re gonna do it! I swear it! And I never go back on my word, because that is my nindo. My ninja w—”
You smacked the back of his head viciously. “Dumbfuck.” The pink-haired kunoichi gasped, a bit surprised, but Naruto was on the ground. You furrowed your eyebrows. “Shit, I forgot I can’t curse in front of you guys… oh, wait, dammit! Wait—aw, fuck, that’s—oh, shit—” You inhaled deeply, regaining your composure. “Anyways, this is kind of adult business. I hate to pull that card, because I remember hating when adults used it on me, but trust me, you fully do not understand the extent of this situation, okay?” Sasuke crossed his arms against his chest, about to challenge you, but you kept talking. “What I mean is basically… don’t make promises about my romantic life, don’t plug your campaign for Hokage, and don’t blame me if everything goes up in flames. You guys get to hedge your bets on this, and I do not.” Naruto got back up on his feet. “Now tell me: where the hell is your sensei right now?”
Sakura focused for a minute, putting her finger to her chin. “I think he said he was going to a book signing—?”
He’s easy to spot. No shit, you scold yourself. Of course he is. He’s Kakashi fucking Hatake.
That familiar gravity-defying hair peeks out in the crowd, and so you struggle your way through, pushing to find him. Surrounded by older men—this was why you made most of your purchases online, you thought bitterly as you pushed aside someone who in the best of situations was out to pickpocket you—he was standing just as he usually did, no attempts to hide himself. Of course he stood out, in accordance with your own personal tastes, but god, was it so… potent to see him again. It hit you way harder than you expected, almost knocking all of the wind out of your chest.
No. No, you could do this. You could do this. You had to do this.
Kakashi turns around at your light touch to his shoulder, and the look of his bloodshot eyes is almost too much to handle. He looks rather puzzled. Those butterflies in your stomach don’t flutter. They’re burning alive. You swallow, throat and tongue dry, and that’s when you realize that this is the worst possible place to be doing this. “(Y/n)?” The smallest, most innocuous voice crack even goes completely unaddressed. “What are you doing here?” You almost completely lose your nerve, and for a second it looks like he’s hurting just as much as you were, but then he keeps talking. “I didn’t think Icha Icha was your cup of tea.”
“Well… uh… well,” you pause, mouth open as if you expect the right words to just poof into existence between your lips, subconsciously shifting your weight from foot to foot, “it’s not. I’m here to talk to you.”
“Why?” He cocks his head to the side, avoiding your gaze. “I mean, I was going to go find you as soon as I got my copy signed, but why did you want to talk to me?”
Trying to push down your own self-doubt, you aim to just… speak your mind. It barely works. You scratch at your neck a little, but it still comes out stilted. “Kakashi, I… Forget what I said, okay?” For the first time today, he turns and makes piercing eye contact. You… really hadn’t seen him for a while, and those eyes—one black, one red—just—it was too much. Too much. “I like you. I miss you too much to ignore you like this, alright? So if you want, we can… hang, sometime.”
It’s subtle, but you’re absolutely positive that you can see a smirk curve its way across his face. “Has it been that long?”
Wh—?!
Your arm sinks into the muscle of his bicep without hesitation. “God, shut up! I’m serious!” But the offended cry dissolves into quiet, nervous laughter, only that way until you notice how his jaw angles under the mask. It’s an obvious smile, the first of its kind you’ve ever seen on your neighbor. “I’m completely serious. And I think the risks are worth it. Can you give me the answer or do you need some time to think it over?”
He doesn’t even need you to finish your sentence as he drapes an arm over your shoulder, mostly confident but still a bit shakily. “Let’s get out of here, alright?”