Chapter Text
[. . .]
"You have to stop the world just to stop the feeling."
[. . .]
Chapter 1
Not So Secret Admirer
[. . .]
"...Hah... Hatake Kakashi has—has a crush on you!"
11-year-old Nohara Rin's exclamation has you stopping mid-slurp of your noodles. You slowly turn your head in her direction, munching cautiously at the sight of her red face and wobbly smile. For a moment, you halt all thought, eyes narrowing in an attempt to scrutinize every available detail on her face that may give away just what prompted her to say something so random.
You blink, cheeks full. "Wha—?"
"My teammate," Rin clarifies, hunching her shoulders less with embarrassment and more with sadness. She fiddles with her fingers before nervously tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ears. She doesn't look at you, but at her food on the counter of Ichiraku's. "He um. I just thought you should know? Minato-sensei was talking about it yesterday, and—"
You use your chopsticks to stuff the short, dangling ends of the noodles in your mouth and swallow. "Hold up," You point at her with your chopsticks as she clamps her mouth shut and looks up at you with wide, vulnerable eyes. What? "Could you... repeat that?" You squint at her.
Rin scopes the area briefly before leaning forward toward you, one hand cupping the side of her mouth. She licks her lips and scrunches her brows. "My teammate Hatake Kakashi has a cru—crush on you!" She hisses, pulling back just as quickly. Her teeth clench her bottom lip worryingly.
Okay. So it seems you hadn't heard wrong.
Rin is spewing nonsense.
You level her with a flat look. "Two things," You start, putting up two fingers. She straightens. "One, it sounds like it pains you to say that. Two," You furrow your brows. "Who is Hatake Kakashi?"
Rin's jaw drops.
You continue staring.
And Teuchi comes bumbling out with a happy grin, presenting you with your third serving of Shio Ramen at high noon.
[. . .]
Your name is... well. It doesn't matter what your name is.
What matters is that your Aunt died burning inside the incendiation of your forest home caused by raiders.
You're three years old.
Well. Back then, at that traumatizing point in your life. By the time you're thinking back on this story, you're about thirty-two, give or take. But that's the future. You'll start from the beginning.
You're three.
You don't remember your birthday, nor the season, so it doesn't matter much. But you're sure of your age then. Three. Because that day, your aunt had dressed you in your best clothes, humming as she brushed your hair and tied the red cord around your waist. She said you were going to visit the shrine—to give thanks for growing strong, to pray for more years to come.
Shichi-Go-San, she'd called it.
You didn't really understand, only that it was special, and that she smiled the whole time, and to a child, that's really all that matters.
That was your last celebration and the last time anyone told you that you'd grow up to be healthy, or happy, or anything at all.
That night was when everything burned.
And that was also the same night when a legendary Shinobi of great importance, and later on, wild foreshadowing, saved you. The White Fang, in all his tired glory, had found you wandering with blood on your clothes and collected you into his arms to take you to a new home. Konohagakure. Which just so happened to be part of the same territory that your old village was a part of, Fire Country—the main one, and you hadn't even known.
Anyway.
With the sob story now addressed, you'll now fondly retell a summary of your following years growing up in Konoha that happens like this: being a clanless orphan amidst an ongoing war, you're shoved into academy life the moment you're inducted into Konoha. You spend the next two years catching up on a skillset you hadn't known you could achieve, surpassing maybe the best of the best, and making several clan children immensely jealous of your newfound talents.
You're a gem—a prodigy among all the "useless filth" of abandoned children.
You're put with the advanced, passing every class with flying colors through your gathered confusion and grief. Evidently, it isn't long before you graduate from the academy at five years old and are shoved under the jurisdiction of a Jounin-sensei.
Nara Shikaku.
He's as lazy as he is intelligent.
Which is both a blessing and a curse.
For three years, you're his only student.
Despite his young age, he accommodates you very well and provides valuable insights into every situation and scenario, fully leveraging your quick learning and compulsive knack for completing everything to a high standard. He always knows what to give you to keep you occupied and continuously advancing—structured exercises designed to refine cognitive precision rather than physical endurance.
Under his instruction, you acquire the ability to analyze battlefield variables, identify behavioral and tactical patterns, and construct layered contingency frameworks to mitigate operational failure. His emphasis on energy conservation and resource efficiency (hint: his naps) quickly conditions you to regard every decision as a calculated expenditure.
Combat becomes an exercise in controlled variables, both measured and predictive, akin to strategic modeling.
It sucks as much as it's useful.
Beyond field applications, his curriculum extends to psychological analysis, negotiation methodology, and the manipulation of information systems as instruments of influence. Which is why he often tells you to relax and "listen". Which. You do, to the point it fries your brain and makes you want to dunk your head into dirt.
There are also other aspects: his training focuses on efficacy without visibility, as well as achieving outcomes through minimal exposure and optimal control. Even his clan's shadow-based techniques are deconstructed into theoretical models for spatial coordination and temporal precision (meaning you built his trust high enough for him to welcome you into his clan, fond of you beyond what you may ever know, helping you understand clan secrets that you probably shouldn't know).
His mentorship cultivates leadership under duress, emphasizing objective evaluation of performance metrics over emotional response.
Ultimately, his instruction prioritizes restraint, cognitive discipline, and strategic foresight—the operational understanding that superior power derives not from force, but from calculated omission.
And it also means that he gives you jutsu's of every clearance, even forbidden ones that you're sure he shouldn't be giving you, but does anyway, always muttering something in between his naps about 'Minato's doing it, why should I care'.
All in all, Shikaku-sensei is a blessing.
And also... as mentioned, a curse.
Because he's lazy as hell.
Despite his brilliance, having Nara Shikaku as a jounin-sensei presents notable disadvantages.
For one, his pronounced lethargy results in minimal hands-on engagement, favoring theoretical lectures and a lot of unsupervised assignments that often leave you craving some form of structure or immediacy. If not for your supposed 'genius' (which, you often feel you lack for some reason), you would've been in trouble from the very start.
He expects constant self-direction, fostering independence but risking stagnation for inexperienced genin (such as YOU), who may not recognize their own missteps until too late. Emotionally, his pragmatic detachment provides little encouragement. And yeah, sure, you understand him now. But before, the younger you was constantly sad, thinking that you hadn't impressed the teenager in the slightest.
(In reality, he'd been very impressed, just vastly unsure of how to process that.
You hadn't understood that whenever he'd buy your favorite treat 'for no reason', it meant that he was very proud of you.)
He has a preference for minimal effort, too. It has, more than once, unintentionally bred complacency, equating efficiency with apathy. What's worse is that your prolonged exposure to his intellect has instilled a quiet arrogance and overreliance on logic inside you, all at the expense of instinct or improvisation. Kind of. You are self-aware and are trying to get better thanks to Shikaku-sensei's teammates—Inoichi-san's and Choza-san's influence.
They teach you, too. What Shikaku-sensei doesn't know how to teach, Choza-san and Inoichi-san are there to compensate.
You become very good friends with their students, especially Gai and Genma. Ebisu... not so much. He keeps staring at you funny.
But... yeah. Shikaku-sensei becomes and still is a huge part of your life.
After three years, you get your teammates. An Inuzuka and another clanless child, making you the only girl with an immense chakra load, apparently. Too much for it to be normal, and you vastly realize that all your 'uselessness' is what the two older children want to be.
They... manage to change your views, somewhat.
That you're overthinking, and that giving your best is just fine.
Maybe.
Except, maybe not.
Because your teammates both die on the same night after you try your very best to save both their lives. That day, that very hour, you had been given the objective of taking over a particularly large base camp between Mist and Iron that had been a critical pushing point. Shikaku-sensei had been sent off elsewhere, leaving only you to lead due to your higher rank of Chunin.
You tried.
But it hadn't mattered.
Because even as skilled as you are, you weren't able to stop Inuzuka Manabu from getting him and his canine companion slaughtered via a flurry of sickle blades from an Iwagakure Kunoichi. Nor could you stop Kurosawa Munan's end, forced to watch, bound and half-conscious, as the enemy took their time with him, tearing his fingernails from his fingers and continuously stuffing gun powder into his mouth until he—
Every breath you drew was laced with ash and iron. And every sound of his pain echoed into you, pulsing in tandem with the throb of your broken fingers. You tried to look away, but your body wouldn't move, your hands were useless, and the only thing you could do was count the seconds until the silence fell.
You failed.
You did your very best, barely coming out alive after using your teammate's corpse as a bomb, and failed.
When you reported back to Konoha after two weeks lost in the fields, Shikaku-sensei had been a mess, and you, someone else.
Because it was then that you realized they were just children.
They had been kids.
And you had been no better.
Time went on. You became better.
And they remained twelve.
[. . .]
You're eleven. It's been a bitter year without your teammates, but you're doing better.
You're no longer restlessly dragging the empty excuse of a chasm that is your body around in no direction. Or wasting in bed long enough for Shikaku-sensei and his teammates to worry, lingering and taking care of you as if you were their own. Or sobbing endlessly into Gai's chest while Genma pets your hair and Ebisu cooks you a hot meal.
It's not the best time, still.
But you're trying.
Isn't that enough?
"We're doing what now?" You ask meekly, peering up at Shikaku with what you hope are big, imploring eyes that suggest 'anything but this, please'?
Shikaku-sensei doesn't look too thrilled. In fact, he seems quite haggard with his dark undereyes and pronounced stress lines that a man of his age shouldn't have. Has been, for the past year, not only because of mounting duties as a developing Clan Head but also because of... the deaths you don't want to think about right now.
He sighs very loudly, shoulders sagging with defeat. He fiddles with something inside his big pants pockets. "Minato came to me, asking to bring you around for some... bonding exercises. According to him, one of his students requested you specifically." He arches a brow at that, as if asking, 'Is there a story behind that?' Stupid genius.
You scowl immediately. You know good and well who it may be.
Rin. Damn it all.
She's sweet, but she's scared to death of you, for some wild reason! You're not trying to bring any bad juju to her team whatsoever just by being there. Besides, after yesterday's random discussion about the feelings of a boy you don't even know, you've been left feeling off after she scampered off with the most pathetic look on her face. You wanted to comfort her, but it wasn't your place because it wasn't you who dropped a secret bomb.
It isn't your business to know about someone else's feelings. Nor hers! Unless that boy explicitly tells you of his feelings, you should never have known in the first place!
Now things might get awkward. And you don't have the energy to dissuade the awkwardness with your usual reluctant cheeriness.
"...We can't bail?" You suggest weakly, scratching the back of your scalp in irritation.
"No."
You run a hand down your face and groan. Great. Just great. Your one and only hope, gone. Shikaku-sensei should know better. Is this Minato bribing him somehow? Or worse, threatening him? Shikaku-sensei is a huge pushover if probed at correctly, and you wouldn't put it past another genius to get the best of him.
You look down at the floor, rubbing at your chin with your index and thumb in deep thought.
Shikaku-sensei always suggests bailing. He doesn't suggest it this time.
You have a funny feeling there are ulterior motives than just Rin asking for you, now.
"Fine," You grumble, kicking at the dirt beneath your feet. You peek a stink eye at a side-eyeing Shikaku-sensei, meeting his hidden challenge head-on. "But you owe me some ramen after this."
"You're going to run my pockets dry."
"Okay, but I'm under whose care?"
"...Being listed as one of my clan's doesn't mean anything. You're chunin, now." He doesn't sound convinced.
"Tell that to Yoshino, then. Or maybe I should...?" You look away, checking your nails.
"Wh—? Oh my god. You're so annoying."
You stay silent.
"...Fine. Stupid brat."
You hide a grin when Shikaku-sensei sighs. Loudly.
[. . .]
It's not that bad.
Awkward at first, but ultimately very productive!
Why?
Because you get to meet someone who will become very, very important to you later on.
Hatake Kakashi.
He's unexpectedly funny to you—for someone who's also eleven.
You discover this fact when the training day is over, and the boy is staring defiantly into your eyes with his arms crossed and his clothes askew following the final spar of the day, just after telling you, with cheeks so red the color peeks out of his mask, that you're a taijutsu-holic with no self-preservation whatsoever.
It's good to finally put a face to the name of your supposed admirer.
He seems your age, you think. A little smaller than you, but it works great for efficiency rather than fragility, in your opinion. Opponents will make the mistake of underestimating him.
(You didn't, though.)
His silver hair falls over his forehead in an asymmetrical mess that tells you he probably doesn't comb often. His eyes look dull and irritated, and they fixate on you with a clear baseline of distaste as they shift imperceptibly while assessing you as hostile. But it doesn't last long, thinning into something unreadable that has you wondering if there had been an internal opinion change about you in real time.
Probably.
Assumptions are hard to make for this guy.
Most of his face is obscured by a mask, so you can't fully tell. It tells you nothing about his expression but a lot about his boundaries. And through the mask, his voice had carried through it crisply and judgmentally. That alone gives you more data than his posture does. Because right now, he's doing his best to control his breathing while projecting himself as superior.
You register all of this in a few seconds, like one would evaluate an unfamiliar shinobi. His stature, demeanor, likely skill level, and how much of a potential threat all circle twice before being shoved aside to look at him with eyes as plain as you can see: that he's a kid, much like you.
And whether you like it or not, he seems to be doing the exact same thing to you.
You just find this better than you expected.
You thought today would go awry. But this... this is a lot better.
After asking Shikaku-sensei for a run-down of Minato's genin team, the explanation he gave had been... grave. You were already aware of Rin and her expertise, but hearing about her terrible team dynamic really had you shaking your head with profound disappointment. You thought you had told her to act professionally and maturely rather than like a schoolgirl, but apparently it hadn't stuck.
Based on Shikaku-sensei's bystander analysis, Team 7 is a disaster.
Rin, as mentioned, still thinks she's in the academy. She tends to have a preference for another teammate and is almost always forced to be the mediator between said two.
Now here's where it becomes worse: beloved Uchiha Obito and the infamous Hatake Kakashi.
Those two are like water and oil.
You know Obito by association because Rin talks about him a lot. He's a nice boy whom you had secretly admired for his kindness as a younger gal, but never told because that'd been super fucking weird as you hadn't and still don't know him. Unfortunately, as good as his compassion may be, it doesn't make up for skill. He had been the dead-last in the academy, and though he has vastly improved since then, there's still a lot of work to be done. He's clumsy, always late, and takes a concerning amount of time to master a jutsu.
Hatake Kakashi is, more so, the polar opposite.
He's an asshole, plain and simple. He dismisses his team often, focuses too much on following the rulebook to a tee, and if you don't meet his standards, he either spends his time ignoring or criticizing you so harshly that you begin to wonder if he even registers the concept of encouragement.
Clinically speaking, Kakashi presents as a prodigy with a rigid cognitive framework. He prioritizes efficiency, compliance, and measurable results above interpersonal cohesion. His feedback is precise but abrasive, and stripped of softening language or emotional consideration. He rarely explains himself unless prompted, and even then, his explanations are truncated. It's like his words are resources he refuses to waste.
This can make anyone angry.
Based on this group setting, he demonstrated a high level of situational awareness and a disconcerting ability to anticipate failure points before they occurred. He had corrected these preemptively for everyone, including yourself, often without warning, which had come across as controlling or dismissing, depending on the recipient's tolerance for abrupt intervention.
(Hint: Although you easily adapted, it had pissed you off a little bit when you weren't sparring with him but with Rin or Obito, and he made stupid corrections between each spar about how slow the others were compared to you.)
Kakashi maintains emotional distance as a default posture.
Eye contact is brief. Praise is nonexistent. When he does acknowledge improvement, it's through silence or the absence of critique.
Despite this, his skill level is indisputable.
You're honestly surprised you hadn't heard of him. Or maybe you had, but your grief had blocked out all noise—not that it matters. Because now that you technically know the surface-level of Kakashi's persona, you can't help but be impressed.
His reflexes, chakra control, and tactical judgement exceed the norm by several standard deviations. He learns new material rapidly and executes with minimal error. In short, he operates at a level that makes teamwork difficult, but it's not because he dislikes collaboration. It's because he likely subconsciously expects others to calibrate to his pace rather than adjusting his own.
Where Obito struggles to catch up, Kakashi struggles to slow down.
It is, in every sense, a mismatch of temperaments, competencies, and developmental trajectories.
And poor Rin is in the middle of it.
Rin isn't even bad, is the thing. She's a great kunoichi. Her growing medical knowledge makes her fucking scary, in your opinion. She'd nearly hit very vital chakra and pressure points that would've rendered you immobile. If she just improves her speed, she'd be insane.
Clinically, Rin demonstrates exceptionally high anatomical literacy for someone her age. Her precision is not accidental because her strikes land within a margin of error small enough to indicate advanced spatial mapping and strong kinesthetic memory. She identifies vulnerabilities faster than most genin, and her decision-making under pressure shows a notable absence of panic responses.
You think.
Sparring is one thing, after all. And outside missions are another.
Her primary developmental limitation is kinetic, not cognitive. Reaction-time testing places her slightly below the median for offensive combat roles, though her anticipatory skills compensate for it in controlled settings. With targeted conditioning (such as fast-twitch muscle training, reflex drills, and chakra-conductivity exercises), her output could increase by an estimated twenty to thirty percent within six months.
From a tactical standpoint, she is a high-value support asset with latent offensive potential.
The combination of medical ninjutsu and pressure-point accuracy classifies her as a dual-threat operative capable of stabilizing allies or disabeling enemies with equal efficiency once her speed deficit closes.
If she ever bridges that gap, she will stop being "scary" and start being real.
But Kakashi doesn't see it that way.
You understand why. You were like him, once upon a time, for a very short time. Before tragedy struck and left you alone without anyone to look after, because you'd failed so miserably.
Kakashi doesn't really have the patience for others. He doesn't want to. And until his little ass gets out of that stage, there's nothing anybody can do. Just give him advice, you suppose.
You have no plans for that, currently.
You kind of just want to go home.
At Kakashi's passing negative comment, you blink before extending a snort of suppressed laughter. "Nooo. Not at all. You're just faster than I thought you'd be, and your skill is great. You caught me off guard," You tell him good-naturedly, offering him a small but genuine smile.
Hatake Kakashi merely stares at you for a second before turning away and dismissing you. In the back, Uchiha Obito squawks about how rude he is while your eyes follow his departure back to Minato-sensei's side. Who is looking at you with a cheeky, bastard grin?
Your smile drops, eyebrows furrowing. "What?" You ask politely, ignoring the rapt attention of the others.
"Nothing," Shikaku-sensei drawls from beside Minato-sensei.
You regard Shikaku with narrowed eyes. "You sound like you're lying." You look down at your haggard appearance, "Am I bleeding, or something?"
"Why the hell would Minato be smiling at that?" Shikaku-sensei looks so done with you.
You scowl at him. "I don't know. He could be crazy."
"I'm not," Minato assures politely. He keeps glancing at Kakashi in an obvious manner. Kakashi is ignoring him.
"He is," Shikaku counters.
Minato opens his mouth to retort, but Obito beats him to it.
"He's kind of right, Minato-sensei," Obito pipes in, scratching at his swollen cheek nervously. Minato peers down at him with a small frown. Is he pouting? "You're a bit of a bastard when you make us train. No offense!" He smiles cheerily up at the man as you consider the brutality of Obito's words very carefully. According to Rin, Obito blurts things out all the time without thinking, but often truthful. Minato-sensei must be crazy.
You'll have to keep an eye on that man.
"Obito," Rin scolds with a long-suffering tone. Kakashi's eyes narrow.
They don't seem scared, though. So maybe not?
"I said no offense!" Obito responds quickly, waving his hands placatingly.
"I'm offended," Kakashi drones sarcastically.
Obito whirls on him with a hiss, "Nobody cares what you think."
"Guys?" Between brows, Minato's skin wrinkles worringly. "Let's save the bloodshed for tomorrow, okay?"
Bloodshed? What the hell?
"See," Shikaku deadpans, noticing your look.
Minato's eye twitches. "See what, exactly, Shikaku-san?" He asks sweetly. Too sweet.
Shikaku shrugs and puts his hands up. "You have eyes, don't you?"
"I'm not the one who needs a glasses prescription," Minato hums.
You just stare, processing this added need for information while they argue.
You don't understand how Shikaku-sensei's terrible vision warrants a topic for this manner, nor will you think too hard on it because it is, ultimately, irrelevant and an open secret that Shikaku swears up and down is just a false rumor. But you've seen him squinting at things too often.
Huh.
Is this a challenge of who points at whose insecurities?
"What? Who the hell told you that?" Shikaku demands tiredly.
"Your girlfriend." Minato looks like he's trying not to be smug.
"No way. She'd never. It had to have been yours. She's always meddling."
Minato scratches at his neck. "Don't talk about Kushina that way. She'll kill you."
Shikaku sniffs. "Good. Maybe then I won't have to deal with your nonsense."
"You're just saying that because I didn't offer to pay for that anpan last week."
What?
Wait.
This isn't part of a lesson, is it?
You stare at them blankly.
"Maybe I am."
"It's not my fault you're broke, Shikaku-san."
"It is. Remember? You decided to gamble our entire pot over to Tsume's hardass."
"...I don't remember that."
"I know. You were piss drunk."
Ugh. You're tired.
"Can we go now?" You ask, and somehow at the same time as Kakashi does.
You both snap your heads at each other. You with surprise, and Kakashi with contempt.
"Oh." Minato has the gall to look sheepish. Shikaku-sensei doesn't look like he cares at all. He looks just as tired as you. "Sorry, kids. You're all dismissed!" Minato spreads his arms out with outrageous cheer.
You nod.
But before you can turn around and leap home through the trees, Minato stops you in your tracks.
"Actually—wait, wait, just a second." He steps forward with his hands raised in the universal gesture for please don't flee yet with a bright smile too quick to be natural. "There's just... one more thing."
You blink at him, suspicion rising behind a blank facade. You're quick to notice Kakashi stiffen at his side. Shikaku doesn't bother hiding his sigh; he rubs the bridge of his nose in the usual manner that suggests he's preparing for a long walk home, debating whether something is worth dealing with. You don't particularly like it, but you stay and place your hands behind your back dutifully.
"Yes?"
Minato laughs nervously. Okay. Weird. "So, uh... funny thing. Actually very funny. Hilarious, even."
Kakashi's eyes widen just barely.
But again. You notice.
You don't even need to look at him to feel the don't you dare radiating off his prepubescent soul.
Minato continues anyway.
"Well, Kakashi may have—just a little—sort of asked if you'd be willing to, um, interact with the team more. For training purposes. Team cohesion. You know. Development." He nods too many times. "So I thought I should, ah, ask."
Kakashi inhales sharply. "Sensei," He says flatly. "Stop talking."
Minato blinks. "Oh! Right. Right!" Minato rubs at his jaw, but the damage is already done. "Anyway. Would you maybe want to train with us again?"
"Why not ask me?" Shikaku-sensei asks monotoneously.
"You wouldn't show up," Minato points out without looking at him, still waiting for your answer. Obito looks confused as hell, and Rin looks nervous. They keep muttering to each other back and forth from behind the crazy-eyed blonde and the very stiff Kakashi.
Shikaku says nothing.
You stare at him. At Minato.
Then you slide your attention to Kakashi.
Kakashi glares at Minato with the full force of a child prodigy humiliated in public, then flicks his gaze to you. And upon noticing you're looking, his expression vanishes behind his usual, dull, irritated one.
Shikaku loudly cracks his back, muttering, "And here I thought today was over," as he gathers his things.
You keep staring.
You're... confused. And you feel like there's pressure being put on you for a decision that shouldn't matter. Today has been great, because hanging out with friends is nice once you get over your whining about personal time off. But. That's odd.
The offer isn't terrible.
You just thought... that it came from Rin.
Not from this boy you've only met today.
You cross your arms. "...You... want me to train with you and your team again?" You reiterate carefully to Minato, just to make sure you heard right.
Minato nods enthusiastically.
You side-eye Kakashi. "...Does he?"
"I thought he asked to, Minato-sensei?" Obito pipes up, bless him. Rin tells him to shut up, and Obito shrinks, frowning with a 'what'd I do?'
Kakashi doesn't do anything.
Minato ignores Obito's question, but with yours, he brightens. "Oh, absolutely."
"Sensei," Kakashi tries again with a much more obvious growl that tells you otherwise.
Shikaku glances up with mild interest. Rin and Obito are looking at you with eyes the size of dinner plates.
Oh, what the hell.
You let them wait a beat, just long enough for Kakashi to shift his weight, before answering.
"Well," You pretend to look around, unable to handle their staring. "...I guess?"
"Splendid!" Minato cheers with a clap to his hands. "We'll be here tomorrow at 700 sharp, okay? Bye!" And with a firm grip on each of his students' shoulders (you're not sure where that third one comes from), he vanishes, as the Yellow Flash is prone to do.
That leaves you and Shikaku-sensei alone in the field.
Shikaku slowly turns to look at you. "...Do you even need me to tell you," in reference to Kakashi, probably.
You look at him, tired.
"Nope."
[. . .]
"So Kaka-sensei didn't like you, datteba'yo?" 17-year-old Naruto asks from the cot, wiggling his absent limb, likely in an effort to shake off the phantom pain. His fingers twitch at the edge of the blanket, his brow raised in genuine curiosity.
32-year-old you, who sits by him, shake your head. "Nah. Well," You shrug helplessly with a sheepish smile. "Yeah, he did, I think? But he didn't want to admit it."
"Wow," Naruto wrinkles his nose. "That's just like him, too! That bastard." He reverts to his eager smile, eyes brightening again. "So, when did he admit it? And how?"
You wag a playful finger at him. "Now hold on there, Naru-chan. That comes way later on in the story."
Naruto sags with disappointment.
You tuck your hand back to your lap. "Have patience, and all that."
"Yer' such a hypocrite."
"No I'm not. Anyway," You clear your throat, straightening a bit. "As I was saying... Kakashi didn't wanna admit he liked me at first. But we became fast friends after he was promoted to jounin."
Naruto perks up. "Wait, wait, I know this part, datteba'yo! Sakura-chan was talkin' about it and—" Naruto pauses, furrowing his brows at the sad smile you give him, eyes softening as understanding dawns. "...Oh."
"Yeah. Oh," You supply rather wistfully. "I'll spare the details—"
"Nuh uh. Sakura-chan said you two were trauma-bonded?"
You wince, shoulders drawing inward just slightly. "Eh... Yeah, I guess? You got it." Ugh. How the hell did Sakura know about that?
She's not six anymore, idiot. She knows medical terms.
Oh yeah.
Naruto leans in, enthusiastic. "What does that mean, datteba'yo? And how did that happen?"
You take a deep breath. Here goes.
"Well... It all happened like this..."