Author’s Note: Posting this early, because Canada Day stuff has me exhausted. I don’t think I’ve been this social in over a year... :P
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His lips trace the well-known paths across her skin, following a map of his own discovery. Guided by sighs and whispers, etched into a space only he can see.
The thing about the Sharingan is it grants constant, perfect recall. Even when she reclines in front of him, completely bare but for a smile and the intention of her eyes, he can see the markings on her skin. Not the constellation of scars that pepper her skin from before—old kunai wounds, powder burns from exploding tags, that stab wound—because he doesn’t even need eyes for those. His fingers find those unerringly, every time, brushes against them with reverence and apology, even though he wasn’t the cause of any of those.
(Not directly, thank the gods; he’s left enough marks on her soul, he’s not sure he could stand to see a physical reminder of his sins on her body.)
It’s something beyond this realm that he perceives. Memory superimposes wispy ribbons of black down her cheeks and beneath the line of her jaw, the underside of her breasts and backs of her knees. It’s as clear to him when she is at rest as when in the throes of battle, and the sight warms him.
He presses his mouth against the outlines of her power, trying to convey gratitude and worship to the gift that keeps her safe, that keeps her with him. Even when he is far away.
He doesn’t put much faith in his own abilities to protect—life and experience have shown him he is a failure at trying to spare others pain. That she has something within her to keep her safe, to fortify her against harm, something that has nothing to do with him—
It’s a relief.
She’ll never break, he knows.
She’s already shown that to be true, over and over. That strength grounds him in turn, as if her might follows him wherever he goes. As if somehow, the markings stretch out and surround him as well, like a string of fate.
He still can’t figure out what he ever did to deserve her. Why the only constant in his life has been leaving and returning to find her waiting.
The first time, after everything, he thought it was a mistake. The second time, mere coincidence; she just happened to be there when he slipped through the village gates.
But every time after that…
He presses his forehead against her, imagines he can feel warmth at the centre, the seal of her power and kindness and love.
By the third time, it was established, understood.
He wonders, sometimes, if it wasn’t so long ago, ages before he followed in the footsteps of his brother and his mentor.
And then she smiles, and he decides it doesn’t matter. What matters is here, in the present, where they can set their own precedent.
Kakashi believed he has read every love story trope there is.
Enemies to lovers?
Check.
They were roommates?
Check.
Fake dating?
Check.
Being a closet hopeless romantic and an open bookworm, he believed he knew all there is in a love story. An expert - so to speak.
Though he didn't expect to be able to witness one unfold before his very eyes – and get a front row seat at that.
The dismissal bell finally rang, and all the kids in Kakashi's third grade class ran away like bullets fired from a gun, eager to go home for the weekend. He stayed behind to fix some things and headed outside as well. He raised a questioning eyebrow when he saw two of his brightest students at the swings. It was a rarity to see any student stay after school on a Friday after all.
He approached them slowly, but Sasuke was still able to spot him. "Shouldn't you two be at home right now?"
"Hi, Kakashi-sensei!" Sakura beamed. "We're waiting for Itachi-nii and Izumi-nee. The Uchihas invited me to dinner!"
"Ah, I see," the teacher smiled. "But it's quite new not to see Naruto with you guys." The three were childhood friends and the bond that they shared is a common knowledge. The trio's mothers were close, and thus it was passed on to their children.
A scoff was heard from the raven-haired boy. "It's his fault he caught a cold." In a low voice that Kakashi only heard due to his sharp ears, he added, "I only wanted Sakura over anyway."
Said girl suddenly stood up from the swing and positioned herself in front of her best friend, dusting off some dust on her pink flower-patterned dress that matches her hair. "Ne, Sasuke-kun, let's go to Disneyland when Golden Week comes!"
The boy visibly winced and sighed. "Can't. I'm going camping with my brother."
"Can I come?"
He shook his head slowly. "It's for boy scouts, Sakura."
At the news, emerald eyes lost a bit of their sparkle. "Oh..."
Lifting up his index and middle finger together, onyx orbs twinkled as he gently poked her forehead.
"Mou, Sasuke-kun..."
"Maybe next time, okay?"
The sight was enough to make Kakashi clench his hand on his chest, unable to control a wave of giddiness that washed over him.
Sakura pouted and Sasuke just ruffled her hair, a soft smile on his face. It took all of Kakashi's willpower not to melt into a puddle of goo.
He has a reputation to uphold, after all.
The silver-haired teacher settled with a soft chuckle. He can clearly remember a familiar scenario like what happened just minutes ago, and it included one Uchiha prodigy as well.
'Speaking of the devil.'
Itachi arrived with Izumi and the two quickly approached them. After saying the formalities, Kakashi's former student proclaimed that they needed to go since the Uchiha matriarch was expecting them not to be late.
"Bye Kakashi-sensei!" the two children chorused while waving to their teacher. Kakashi gave a wave of his own and didn't stop until the four of them reached the school gate. Sasuke held Sakura's hand while his brother did the same to Izumi. Looking at their backs, he didn't fight back a smile.
'Itachi and Sasuke are brothers indeed', Kakashi mused.
