Prompt #2
You stood in front of the ruins of a far off village that once was. Smoke was still rising from the ashes of buildings that once stood proudly. You looked around, surveying the dusty cobblestone streets that were once familiar to you as a child. You swallowed hard, your eyes landing on a repair shop sign that was now crisped and burned from the fire that ravaged the village.
“Looks like we’re too late,” you heard your teammate say. “The village is destroyed.”
You turned around as a knot formed in your throat. You wanted to ask if there were any survivors, and you wondered if your father had made it through the blaze. Somehow, you felt sad that he had perished despite everything he had put you through. Your stomach churned as you kicked some rubble, thinking of yourself as a young shinobi, constantly the source of your angry father’s disappointment.
You swallowed again, looking around. You thought of the first time your father’s fist landed on your jaw. The first time he told you that you were a disgrace to your family bloodline. The first time he pushed you down, daring you to fight him back.
“You’re nothing!” He had shouted to you, smashing a bottle of sake against the counter. “You’ll never be a reputable shinobi. You will never be the ninja your mother was. You’ll never become anything!”
“[y/n]?” You heard Kakashi’s voice behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts as a soft hand fell to your armored shoulder, “everything okay?”
You looked up at him, his tall stature allowing your chin to barely reach his collarbone.
“You look a little pale,” he commented. “Stomach queasy?”
You shook your head, frowning. “No, that isn’t it.”
“Captain Kakashi,” your teammate called to him, detaching him from your conversation. “I may have found something!”
Kakashi gave you a curt, reassuring nod as if to say everything would be fine and that this was just another run of the mill mission. But you couldn’t help but notice the acidity rising in your throat at the thought of your father and the abuse he put you through. You were happy to have left and found the leaf village so many years ago.
****
Later that night, you walked into your small apartment and dropped your bag. It landed with a thud on the hardwood, rickety floor and you ran your fingers through your [h/l], [h/c] hair, exhausted.
Sitting down, you put your head in your hands and took a deep breath, trying not to relive the abuse your father had given you at such a young age. Your mother had died in childbirth, and your father had always blamed you for it, despite medical advances telling him that there was no avoiding her impending time of death.
There was a knock at the door, and you sighed heavily, getting up to answer it.
Kakashi stood on the other side of the threshold, the bags under his eyes somehow deeper from their long journey.
“Hey,” he addressed you softly.
“Hey,” you replied, feeling your muscles relax at the sight of him. He was your teammate, but you had also grown close to him recently in an awkward, undefined relationship type of way.
“I just came to check and see how you were doing. You seemed to be having a tough time back there.”
You scoffed under your breath, turning to allow him to enter. You watched as he carefully took his sandals off and walked with you over to the couch.
“It’s nothing, really,” you replied, trying your best to brush off the situation.
“I know it’s not, [y/n],” he spoke, raising his eyebrows lazily. “I can always tell when something is bothering you.”
You turned to him, frowning. A few beats of silence passed between the two of you before you spoke, “that was my home village. I had hoped I would never return there.”
Kakashi blinked, raising his eyebrows even further in surprise, “was it now? Why didn’t you say anything?”
You could feel your chin quivering and you scolded yourself. The back of your throat ached to cry.
“Because I didn’t want to draw attention away from our mission objective,” you said definitively. “A shinobi is supposed to be able to suppress their emotions and memories in order to succeed in their mission. I didn’t want that to get in the way of our that.”
“Well,” Kakashi began, “you could talk about it now.”
You looked at him, eyes grazing over his hidden features. His voice welcomed your response. You tilted your head to look at him, wondering why he was so curious.
“I grew up there, my father and I. My mother died when I was born,” you told him quietly.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I understand that more than you know- growing up without a mother, that is.”
You nodded, “I’m sure your father was more welcoming to his only child than mine was.”
Kakashi frowned, tilting his chin up in curiosity. “You could say that.”
You nodded again, looking away, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even-”
“Why did you leave your village?” He asked you.
“Don’t ask me that,” you shook your head.
“And why is that?” His voice didn’t demand answers but instead welcomed you to reply. His casual tone caused you to swallow hard, pursing your lips.
You hadn’t told anyone about your father’s abuse in all your life.
“Because it makes me look weak,” you retorted, your own self-pity seeping out from your words.
Kakashi smiled softly at you, his masked lips curling up in a reassuring smile.
“I can guarantee you, [y/n], nothing you tell me will make you look weak in my eyes,” he replied quietly. “You don’t have to tell me why you left, but I thought you ought to know that I think very highly of you as a kunoichi.”
The hand that had been lying limp on the couch next to you was suddenly being soothed with his. Calloused fingers grazed the back of your hand as you lifted your gaze to him. Despite his hidden mouth, his eyes gave away his smile.
You smiled meekly in return, letting go of his hand and wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt his body stiffen under your sudden and uncharacteristic sign of affection. Finally, he wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing you closer to him.
“Thank you, Kakashi,” you whispered to him.