my eyes are so itchyyy
title: doubt and trust
pairing: kakashi/sakura
summary: “you can be selfish, you know. i won’t mind.”
notes: because i have to make up for this.
“Kakashi-senpai.” He looked up from his book to find Sakura sitting at The Bench. (Not a bench-The Bench, as it had been officially dubbed from The Incident eleven years ago.) “Back already?”
He smiled politely. “It was a simple mission, really. Not that I’m complaining-Hokage-sama must know that my bones are getting weak from old age.”
She patted the spot beside her on The Bench, and he easily came to sit at her side. “Really? You look pretty beat up.”
“Branches are nasty things, especially when you’re travelling in a hurry.” He nodded.
“I heard kunai and nukenin were also pretty nasty things. Where are you hurt?”
“It pains me to see my favorite student not trust me.”
“Former student, Kakashi-senpai. And I can’t trust you if you don’t trust me first.” Her eyes flashed with womanly wisdom that he could’ve never taught her, and he wondered when she had become so independent. “C’mon. Show me your wounds.”
They engaged in a staring contest for a few silent moments, before he sighed. “Just a fractured arm, really. Nothing to worry about.”
“Roll up your sleeve,” she instructed immediately, and he did so without complaint. He had far too much experience to know that it was futile to resist her when it came to her medic duties. “Nothing to worry about? It’s all bruised and swollen! When did this happen?”
“Two days ago,” he said idly, returning to his book as her warm chakra enveloped his injury.
“You weren’t even intending to go to the hospital, were you?”
“Nope.”
“Sometimes, your indifference sickens me,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. She tended to do that when she concentrated.
Three minutes later, she pat his arm. “All done.”
“Mm.” He glanced at it, inwardly pleased at the fact that the pain has gone. “Thanks, Sakura-chan.” He ruffled her hair, and she laughed, pulling away.
“Do you think Sasuke would be proud of me if he saw me today?” Her head tilted back and she looked up at the sky, a clear blue-the exact same shade as Naruto’s eyes. There were moments when she reminded him of a girl he knew once, long ago-one that had loved him with the same passion that Sakura loved Sasuke.
Loved. Not love. She was older now. More mature. More sensible.
“I don’t think Sasuke would care,” he told her honestly. Her glare was short-lived, and she sighed wistfully.
“I don’t think he would either.”
Silence stretched between them, and he wondered what she was thinking about. Probably the past, probably Sasuke, probably the what-ifs and could-have-beens-until he felt like he was intruding in her thinking time, so he made a move to stand up.
“You’re tired, aren’t you, Kakashi-senpai?”
Her question was so broad, that he wasn’t sure how to answer. “Yes. I’m tired.”
Her smile was small, weary. “Will you tell me about it?”
“I don’t see the point of putting more weight on your shoulders. You’re far too young to hear about an old man’s worries.”
What hurt the most was probably how she was all kindness and selflessness. Never once did she make a move to touch him-lay her hand on his, pat his shoulder-she just sat there with that sad smile and those soft features and he wondered if he could finally just slow down and breathe.
“You can be selfish, you know.” Her voice reminded him of fields of green and blossoming daisies. “I won’t mind.”
He looked at her for a long moment, trying to decipher what it was that she wanted from him, what he wanted to say, how much he could say. He smiled wistfully under his mask. “There’s nothing to explain. I’m just tired.”
“You should rest,” she advised gently.
“Yes, I should.”
“Right now.”
“Now?”
“Right here.”
He laughed softly. “The Bench is not an ideal place to sleep, as I’m sure you know.”
“I’ll be your pillow,” she offered, all sincerity and good will. He was proud, to have trained a woman like her. She would make a fine wife one day-Sasuke missed out on something great.
“Don’t be silly.”
“Don’t be stingy,” she retaliated, and he could say nothing to that. There was a thick moment of contemplation, the careful weighing of pros and cons-but when he looked into those wide eyes, so honest and yet so wise, he seemed to forget why he should say no.
And so, with much caution and care, he shifted so he could lay his head on her lap. It was tense and awkward for the first minute or so, but eventually, he relaxed, and she did too.
“You can trust me,” she said quietly, more to herself than to him. Hesitantly, her fingers went to his hair, threading through the locks. Her touch was much more comforting than it should’ve been. “I-I need someone to trust me. Sasuke never looked twice at me, Naruto wants to protect me so he never tells me about his problems…even after all I’ve done, I still feel so small.” He looked up at her eyes, so green and so honest and just so sad-and he wondered what he could do for her, because he was tired of standing around and watching all of those he held dear just fall away from him.
And maybe, sometimes, helping wasn’t a difficult thing. Helping didn’t have to constitute as doing something for someone-Sakura didn’t need that. She was a simple person with simple needs.
Closing his eyes, he laced his fingers over his stomach. “I’ll trust you,” he said.
He could feel her smile through her touch.
pairing: kakashi/sakura
summary: “you can be selfish, you know. i won’t mind.”
notes: because i have to make up for this.
“Kakashi-senpai.” He looked up from his book to find Sakura sitting at The Bench. (Not a bench-The Bench, as it had been officially dubbed from The Incident eleven years ago.) “Back already?”
He smiled politely. “It was a simple mission, really. Not that I’m complaining-Hokage-sama must know that my bones are getting weak from old age.”
She patted the spot beside her on The Bench, and he easily came to sit at her side. “Really? You look pretty beat up.”
“Branches are nasty things, especially when you’re travelling in a hurry.” He nodded.
“I heard kunai and nukenin were also pretty nasty things. Where are you hurt?”
“It pains me to see my favorite student not trust me.”
“Former student, Kakashi-senpai. And I can’t trust you if you don’t trust me first.” Her eyes flashed with womanly wisdom that he could’ve never taught her, and he wondered when she had become so independent. “C’mon. Show me your wounds.”
They engaged in a staring contest for a few silent moments, before he sighed. “Just a fractured arm, really. Nothing to worry about.”
“Roll up your sleeve,” she instructed immediately, and he did so without complaint. He had far too much experience to know that it was futile to resist her when it came to her medic duties. “Nothing to worry about? It’s all bruised and swollen! When did this happen?”
“Two days ago,” he said idly, returning to his book as her warm chakra enveloped his injury.
“You weren’t even intending to go to the hospital, were you?”
“Nope.”
“Sometimes, your indifference sickens me,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. She tended to do that when she concentrated.
Three minutes later, she pat his arm. “All done.”
“Mm.” He glanced at it, inwardly pleased at the fact that the pain has gone. “Thanks, Sakura-chan.” He ruffled her hair, and she laughed, pulling away.
“Do you think Sasuke would be proud of me if he saw me today?” Her head tilted back and she looked up at the sky, a clear blue-the exact same shade as Naruto’s eyes. There were moments when she reminded him of a girl he knew once, long ago-one that had loved him with the same passion that Sakura loved Sasuke.
Loved. Not love. She was older now. More mature. More sensible.
“I don’t think Sasuke would care,” he told her honestly. Her glare was short-lived, and she sighed wistfully.
“I don’t think he would either.”
Silence stretched between them, and he wondered what she was thinking about. Probably the past, probably Sasuke, probably the what-ifs and could-have-beens-until he felt like he was intruding in her thinking time, so he made a move to stand up.
“You’re tired, aren’t you, Kakashi-senpai?”
Her question was so broad, that he wasn’t sure how to answer. “Yes. I’m tired.”
Her smile was small, weary. “Will you tell me about it?”
“I don’t see the point of putting more weight on your shoulders. You’re far too young to hear about an old man’s worries.”
What hurt the most was probably how she was all kindness and selflessness. Never once did she make a move to touch him-lay her hand on his, pat his shoulder-she just sat there with that sad smile and those soft features and he wondered if he could finally just slow down and breathe.
“You can be selfish, you know.” Her voice reminded him of fields of green and blossoming daisies. “I won’t mind.”
He looked at her for a long moment, trying to decipher what it was that she wanted from him, what he wanted to say, how much he could say. He smiled wistfully under his mask. “There’s nothing to explain. I’m just tired.”
“You should rest,” she advised gently.
“Yes, I should.”
“Right now.”
“Now?”
“Right here.”
He laughed softly. “The Bench is not an ideal place to sleep, as I’m sure you know.”
“I’ll be your pillow,” she offered, all sincerity and good will. He was proud, to have trained a woman like her. She would make a fine wife one day-Sasuke missed out on something great.
“Don’t be silly.”
“Don’t be stingy,” she retaliated, and he could say nothing to that. There was a thick moment of contemplation, the careful weighing of pros and cons-but when he looked into those wide eyes, so honest and yet so wise, he seemed to forget why he should say no.
And so, with much caution and care, he shifted so he could lay his head on her lap. It was tense and awkward for the first minute or so, but eventually, he relaxed, and she did too.
“You can trust me,” she said quietly, more to herself than to him. Hesitantly, her fingers went to his hair, threading through the locks. Her touch was much more comforting than it should’ve been. “I-I need someone to trust me. Sasuke never looked twice at me, Naruto wants to protect me so he never tells me about his problems…even after all I’ve done, I still feel so small.” He looked up at her eyes, so green and so honest and just so sad-and he wondered what he could do for her, because he was tired of standing around and watching all of those he held dear just fall away from him.
And maybe, sometimes, helping wasn’t a difficult thing. Helping didn’t have to constitute as doing something for someone-Sakura didn’t need that. She was a simple person with simple needs.
Closing his eyes, he laced his fingers over his stomach. “I’ll trust you,” he said.
He could feel her smile through her touch.