With a bottle in one hand and an empty dango skewer in the other, Anko drunkenly strolled through the streets of Konaha, enjoying the solace of the mid-summer night. It was half past two in the morning, and the majority of the village had settled into slumber; all that could be heard was the odd loudmouth coming from the bar, a dog bark in the distance, and the steady chirp of crickets.
Anko loved this time of year and did all she could to make the most of it before the season change. She had just finished her sweet snack of mitarashi dango she picked up after a long drawn-out visit to The Flash Bomb, the newest bar in town. She, along with Kurenai, Yugao, and Shizune, made a deal to meet at the end of the day to enjoy each other’s company, catch up, as well as get drunk. Shizune was the first to head out for the night, anxious about everything she had to do the next day, and Yugao wasn’t long behind her, being summoned for an urgent Anbu mission. That left Anko and Kurenai, who both made the most of their night out, and drank too much of everything. Anko took it upon herself to bring Kurenai home, knowing she had much more to drink than her, however, not before stopping to get a snack. Kurenai was happily accepted into her apartment by Asuma, who was borderline in shock of how drunk she was. Before he could get after Anko for influencing her to drink so much (though he knew Kurenai didn’t need any influence), Anko had already set off to continue her drunken adventure.
As she made her way home through the winding streets, she just so happened to look up at a light on in an apartment unit she was nearing. Anko felt her heart begin to beat with excitement, and a pulse between her legs. Her body knew exactly whose home this was, before her brain could register, as she had been there on more than one occasion. Kakashi and Anko weren’t in a relationship, nor were they dating. They were each other’s outlets. Both fearing commitments, and having zero desire to be vulnerable with anyone, they used each other for sex. Calling it an agreement would make it too formal. Rather, they’d show up at each other’s homes on occasion, either coming back from a mission and needing to decompress or being drunk and needing to get laid. If their social circle knew, they would keep it to themselves.
Anko climbed the stairs to Kakashi’s unit, getting excited for a spontaneous late-night hookup. Kakashi was firm about her not coming to his window, something about some PTSD or something. She always made a point to be subtle about going in the front door, careful not to bring attention to her presence, and he was quick to let her in. This time however, after waiting for 5 minutes, he didn’t come to the door. Anko knew he was home; his lights were on. There was no way he’d ever leave his home with the lights left on; he was too cheap. She knocked again. Nothing. Curious, Anko wondered if he had fallen asleep, and knocked louder, to the point she’d soon be banging. Again, nothing. Feeling a sense of concern, she went around to get up to his window.
Kakashi’s apartment was small, consisting of a kitchenette/living space, single bedroom, and a bathroom that only the most basic of men could find functional. With this, by looking in the main window to the unit, Anko could see the entire living space. Kakashi lived with minimal items and furniture. It was too much fuss for him to bother decorating to his like, mainly due to him not knowing what he likes, and again, he was cheap. Besides team photos, there were no identifying features that would link him to this space. He liked it this way.
It felt like she was violating Kakashi, peering in the window like this. However, she did not see him in either the living space, or the bedroom. It was obvious that he had been home; a ramen cup was sitting on the counter, tea towel on the floor, as well as a multitude of liquor bottles scattered about. Carefully opening the window, and looking it over for traps, she went inside. She did a more thorough examination of the living spaces. The ramen cup was half eaten, with the broth still feeling slightly warm. The majority of the bottles were either rum, whiskey, or beer, and they were empty. She wasn’t sure of how long they had been sitting, or how recently they had been drunk. With growing concern, she checked the bedroom, and found nothing but a flak jacket tossed onto the haphazardly made bed. This left the bathroom, and the door was shut with light shining from under it. At this point, she made her presence known, not wanting to make a potentially drunk man slip in the shower or jump while taking a shit on the toilet. Not to mention just plainly not wanting to see him in the middle of doing his business. She was obnoxious, but she wasn’t a complete asshole. Clearing her throat, Anko knocked on the bathroom door. “Kakashi? You in there?” No answer. “I saw your lights were on and it’s pretty much 3AM at this point, so I thought I’d come by for some quality time” she said in a sing-song voice. She was again met with silence, that was broken by her sudden hiccup. She quietly listened, and didn’t hear anything, before going to open the door.
Inside the tiny bathroom, was a limp Kakashi, lying on the floor, wedged between the toilet and shower. His face was hidden by washroom fixtures. The room smelled like a mixture of beer, rum, noodles, and stomach acid. Trying not to gag from the sudden wall of smell, Anko reached down to touch his leg. He was still in the standard jonin plants, with the tight-fitting tank top, sans mask. She shook his leg after not getting a response from her though with no luck. Feeling a sudden wave of sobriety, she turned Kakashi over. His face was wet and sticky with sweat and had vomit down the front of his face and shirt. He obviously cracked his head at some point, as there was a contrasting hue of red and pink through his hair, and drying blood on the toilet seat. It was evidently old; Anko found his scalp had stopped bleeding at this point. While working to sit Kakashi up, she noted the bathroom to be in disarray. There was vomit on the floor, in the sink and toilet. It was clear that he had not made it to the toilet in time. Where his head had been positioned on the floor was more vomit. Looking closer, she noticed multiple white pills within the liquid. Frowning, she looked at Kakashi, and attempted to rouse him with no luck. “You bastard. All I wanted was a good fuck, and this is what I get.” Anko positioned Kakashi in an upright position and began to look for a washcloth of some sort. After finally finding one, she went to the sink to wet it. Who the fuck only has two cloths? she thought to herself.
Several pill bottles were scattered on the sink ledge and laying in the bowl. Percocet, dilaudid, and temazepam. Sighing to herself, she wet the cloth and began to clean Kakashi up. Anko gagged while she struggled to lift his shirt over his head, with some of the liquid drying the fabric to his chest. She hated puke, always had. This was disgusting.
With Kakashi’s shirt off, she set to work cleaning the mess off his person, all while trying to rouse him. She knew Kakashi was a disaster in terms of mental health and had survived his fair share of suicide attempts. She didn’t think he was in that bad of a space tonight to try again. Right? Anko quickly looked at the pill bottles, and noted to them being either half full, or almost full. The prescription dates were relatively recent. No, this wasn’t an attempt. So what the fuck even happened? She then continued cleaning Kakashi up, with a reduced sense of panic.
“Jesus Christ Kakashi. The hell were you thinking? What were you doing?” Anko muttered to herself. “The amount of shit I have had to clean up in my fucking life, I don’t need to be doing this again. I was having a good fucking night until I saw your damn light on” she continued. She had Kakashi stripped down to his boxers and had the bath running. She needed to get the vomit and blood out of his hair before she got him into bed. His breathing was slow and steady; he wasn’t in any distress. He simply fucked up Anko concluded. Pulling him up to the side of the bath, she positioned him in a seemingly uncomfortable position, and began to rinse his hair with the shower head. Kakashi let out a small moan when she began to massage shampoo into his scalp. The product had worked its way into his head gash. “Serves you right fucker” she said to him. “M s…ry” whispered the limp body. Frowning, she responded “Do you know how rude it is to just acknowledge your guest after they’ve already been here for 30 minutes? You’re such a brat.” With a sigh, she began rinsing his hair out. The only response she received was a slow nod. Sighing, she began to dry his hair and saw he had begun trying to sit up on his own, groaning as he shifted his weight around, trying to get comfortable. She felt a crooked sense of satisfaction that some of the discomfort may be from the angle he was in while she cared for him. She didn’t care, she was drunk, cranky, and getting more and more tired, feeling her start to crash from the adrenaline rush from the fear she experienced earlier, looking for him, and fear this was an attempt on his life.
“Get up, you need some clean clothes. You made a mess of yourself earlier” Anko told him, helping him into a poor excuse of a standing position. She looked back into the bathroom. There was still vomit spewed throughout the room, but he would need to deal with that himself. A simple consequence.
They slowly made their way out into the living area, settling on the old, worn-out couch. He has had the damned couch for years, and it was due to be replaced five years ago. She could only imagine the things it had seen over the years, ranging from Kakashi returning from missions a bloody mess and half alive, his multiple suicide attempts, their hookups and who else had been there for the same purpose, and the silence. Kakashi was a silent man, who didn’t invite people over to simply enjoy their company, or to share meals. He was alone majority of the time. The only people who would come by on a semi frequent basis was Gai challenging him to whatever idea popped into his head next (though Anko truly believed that this was just to keep tabs on his mental state), and her coming over (bi-weekly at this point), to fuck and leave. Anko felt sad thinking about this as she helped set him down, his head drooping forward.
She retreated over to the kitchenette, and while examining the bottles left haphazardly on the counter, got him a glass of water. As she made her way back to the half naked lump sitting on the couch, she asked “what the hell happened? Did something even happen? What is going on?” She was met with silence before a soft chuckle could be heard from him. “I unno… this point. S’ mad n had a few n guess. Time s it?” he slurred. Anko handed the glass to him, which he reluctantly took and began to sip, before she headed to his bedroom to look for some clothes. “I got here around quarter to three, and its now… fucking nearly four am. What time do you last remember?” she called out from the bedroom. As she came back out, she found the glass of water gone, and Kakashi laying down. “No. Sit up. I do not have the patience for this. You are a literal buzzkill” she groaned, while pulling him back into a seated position, and forcing a shirt over his head. She followed by putting his pants on him, taking note of how he wasn’t resisting. She stood back and looked at her handywork (he looked like a poorly dressed scarecrow), before attempting to get him up to bring him to bed. The chance of her getting home before 4:30AM decreased every second; she did not want to delay getting him into bed.
She walked him to his bedroom and helped him into his bed. “Didn mean to do it. ‘S jus’ so tired of this… an it felt better. But now I don’t… Sorry.” Anko didn’t respond. There was not point in having this discussion. He wouldn’t remember it and she was too tired to be empathetic.
Tucking him into his bed, she left his room without saying a word.
Kakashi opened his eyes and saw he was in his bed. He thought to himself I don’t remember getting here… Looking over at his alarm clock, he saw 7:54PM. Laying there in the silence, he tried to remember.
He had gotten back from a mission at 11PM the night before. It wasn’t an easy mission, there was a lot of civilian casualties, most being children. Kakashi was experienced enough to recognize and understand that he was having a difficult time processing it. Was it because he had his own team of kids? God knows, either way, he was struggling. He had gotten home from his report at the Hokage Tower, and poured himself a drink, or 10. They were stronger than what they should have been, but he didn’t care. He just wanted his mind to settle. Even with the liquor going through his system, the aches and pains began to set in. Wounds he neglected to have checked over upon his return were throbbing. A few pain pills later (too many but he knew his limits through trial and error over the years), the only thing keeping him up were his thoughts. A few sleeping pills should do the trick. I just need damn sleep… and with that, he took some.
This was his last memory. With caution, he sat up in his bed, head spinning from either hunger, dehydration, or the remnants of the hangover. Groaning, he then got to his feet that barely carried him to the living room where he remembered leaving a bit of a mess to find… no mess. “The hell” he mumbled to himself. He felt a ping in his abdomen, signalling his need to use the bathroom. He continued his pained journey to relieve himself and stepped into the bathroom. It smelled of citrus. Confused, he looked around and found an air freshener that he had never saw before. As well, it was clean. All towels, clothes, and other items were where they belonged, not at all where he remembered them being when he got home last night.
After he finished his business, he went to the kitchen to get water. Before he had the chance to open the cupboard, he saw a glass of water on the counter, some Tylenol and a note. With a frown, he read the note, You owe me big time, Anko.