KakaSaku: Secrets (for artsatalex)
Title: “Secrets”
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: PG
Summary: One accidental meeting, two half-hearted revelations and two items of clothing - that’s what it takes to change Sakura’s life. [mild Kakashi/Sakura] Please R&R!
Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishimoto Masashi. Lyrics from Movie Kisses by Thea Gilmore.
A/N: My (pretty poor) attempt at some humour starring rather cranky Sakura and mildly mischievous Kakashi. A bit of nostalgic romance has also seeped in.
Dedication: to my most amazing friend artsatalex for being as awesome as you are! <3
SECRETS
All those movie kisses just last too long…
Sometimes a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. At least when the girl who is terminally bored gets to a fork-road on the road of her life. (That’s what Ino would say, and I must admit I still retain a pitiful habit of listening to whatever Ino says since the time I called her Ino-chan and considered her to be my guru in all things life.)
So this girl applies her new make-up, puts on a really miniature dress with a beaded hem and whips her hair into a set of curls so tight it looks like a cloud of pink cocktail foam. By all standards she is guaranteed not only to turn heads in her directions, but to snap necks. There’s only one problem.
The girl is me.
Now, I have no illusions regarding my looks. I’m flat like a board, I have a scary-looking forehead and very weird hair. I’m a disaster at flirting, and not even a tone of make-up can make me feel more secure. That I can live with.
What I cannot live with is me not being me. Pretense isn’t really my forte, and the doll face batting her eyelashes at me from the looking-glass is someone else entirely. The cosmetics and the stunning piece of cherry-coloured fabric that has the nerve to call itself a dress were presented to me by Ino. The hairdo is also her design. In fact, the whole dance thing is her idea.
I live out a moment of panic, but I am a kunoichi after all. If I can take on a dozen of heavily armed enemy ninja, each wielding some gross crazy ninjutsu, why not a couple of local boys? Come on, girl, you can do it! I can practically see Ino wink at me.
She has sworn none of our boys will be there. The last thing I need right now is someone like Naruto laughing his head off seeing me dressed up like this.
By the time I get to the club I’m really wishing I had something to cover me up with. Like an overcoat. A very thick fluffy winter overcoat. The kind they wear in the Snow Country. Alas, it seems to be the hottest night of the summer this year, so I would most likely die of hyperthermia if I had one.
At least I’d feel decent.
The club is crowded, noisy and generously showered with glaring neon lights. It’s the most clichéd night club I’ve ever been to (considering I’ve only been to one), and I instantly know I don’t like it here. And if I don’t like the setting, I most likely won’t like the people I’ll meet here.
I might as well ask Sai to draw an improved copy of Haruno Sakura that would fit here. Handy, really.
So it comes as no surprise that I go in and go out right the next instant. The truth is, I’m scared. Lonely, too. I’m pathetic, and my knees wobble, and my chest is tight, and the dress suddenly feels invisible.
I decide to go back home, change into my slobby leggings and a very old pink t-shirt, down a bucket of cherry ice-cream and pretend the evening hasn’t happened. But as I go, I see a shiny poster at the entrance of an old movie theatre which makes me change my mind. I’ve found myself a far more pathetic way of indulging my depression. Watching a cheesy ‘lurve-till-death-do-us part’ melodrama in a very old, cheap and uncomfortable cinema. Alone.
Oh yes!
I buy a ticket and stoically sit through the first forty minutes when one of the fellow spectators suddenly catches my attention and I feel like… You just can’t describe such a feeling! Imagine all four of your wisdom teeth started growing at once. There, you get the picture.
The place is empty save for a few weepy teenage girls (somehow I feel a lot older than I should and far more cynical; blame it on a certain someone - dark hair, Sharingan eyes, smug attitude and a vocabulary consisting of two words, ‘avenger’ and ‘hn’ - if the latter can even be called a word!), and it’s hard not to notice him. Bushy hair, one eye shut, a mask concealing the better part of his face.
My thoughts are turning into one big, loud ‘ouch!’
I turn away, raise my hand to my face and hope he hasn’t seen me. Something tells me he is looking at me, but I’m three rows ahead of him, and it’s dark, and I don’t look like my usual self. Maybe he won’t-?
I’m probably leaking my chakra all over the place, but he doesn’t have to feel it, does he?
By the end of the movie I feel as if someone has been a jerk enough to use my brain for a needle cushion. I sneak out of the cinema and sigh with relief. Phew!
Alas, lady luck is such a-. I glance back for a moment and freeze: he is standing right behind me, and I can tell the perv is grinning beneath his mask.
“Now I have something to blackmail you with,” he declares cheerfully.
I wrinkle my nose. “As if you’ve just been looking for an excuse.”
My whole life floats before my eyes. But hang on! Why am I being so dramatic? So my sensei saw me dressed the way no sensei should ever-ever-ever see his student dress and he’s probably going to tell everyone. So what? But then…
My turn to grin. Tee hee.
“So do I.” I wink at him to make my words more convincing.
Kakashi frowns, then looks himself over. Probably imagines himself wearing a dress like that. Ugh!
“I doubt it. What with?”
“We-ell, a person like you is rather expected to go see some hot adult stuff, not schmoopy soap about flowers and butterflies and never-ending caramel kisses.”
His jaw hardens.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”
I stick my tongue out at him. We’re square.
“I’ll walk you home,” Kakashi suggests.
Not a good idea. I’ve only just escaped a gory death by embarrassment.
“I was your sensei,” he continues as his gaze drifts slowly down. “It is my duty to protect your virtue.”
Oh, he’s pushing it!
“What are you looking at over there?” I fume. “There’s nothing to look at!”
He snaps his head up so fast that I can almost hear the vertebrae in his neck crack. I think tomorrow might be a good time to continue my studies of Tsunade-sama’s famous one-finger blow. Just in case.
Meanwhile, Kakashi-sensei takes off an oversized shirt he is wearing over his sleeveless garment and hands it to me. I accept it with gratitude, though I can’t stop glowering at him. And then we find ourselves walking quietly down the street, and the silence holds until he breaks it curiously:
“So-o-o… What’s with the outfit?”
“Don’t ask,” I answer wearily. Then I (typically) break down: “It was Ino’s idea! We were supposed to meet at this club, you know, the one further up the street (Oh, he knows, I’m sure he does!) but things haven’t gone exactly the way we planned, so…”
“Not a good place,” Kakashi interrupts. I’m getting apprehensive when I see concern and disapproval written all over his face. He is being protective and this time he has a reason for that. “Don’t go there. And best tell Ino not to. It’s just not-.”
“Like she’ll listen to me,” I snort. Although... If can somehow tip Shikamaru off.
Kakashi hums thoughtfully. Things with Team Shikamaru are tricky these days. There’s just three of them instead of the regular four, and Shikamaru is getting more and more Asuma-ish these days. It generally pisses Ino off, though I can tell she is grateful for it in her own unspoken way. I still have to think up a strategy, but now I’d rather focus on the matter at hand.
“Your turn,” I state. “What’s with the mush?”
“I got bored.”
“Yeah, right.”
We fall silent once more, and little by little I notice that he has fallen in with my step and we walk so close that my shoulder nearly brushes his forearm. I squint up at him, watch a sliver of moonlight glide over his calm, relaxed face. He probably had his own reasons for being at the cinema just as he has his own reasons for everything. He’s a mystery to me after all the years I’ve known him. And maybe… just maybe he’s the only one who can make me feel not so lonely.
“Still looks nice,” Kakashi comments. I cock my head. “The dress,” he elaborates.
“If you continue, I’ll-.”
His open eye curves into a joyful crescent. “Point taken.”
We make it to my place (in one piece, which is already a minor victory). I walk up to the door, then turn around and smile at him. Maybe he’s flirting with me. Maybe I want him to flirt with me. That makes me blush and question my sanity, but seems like that’s the case.
I’m half-way into the hall when Kakashi suddenly utters:
“It’s for a friend.”
I stand still, my back on him. Let him think what he will. I’m interested, but I won’t ask. Fortunately, he can see how far my curiosity goes.
“She used to like that type of movies.” Oh… a she-friend? “She would always ask me out, but there was a war. Besides, I never really wanted to, you know, waste my time.”
I smile sadly. His friend somewhat reminds me of, well, me. I wonder who she was if he remembers her fondly and even takes time to do the things he doesn’t like for her. I wonder if someday someone who I used to want to go to the movies with will look at a sakura tree and remember me with the same warm nostalgia that I can hear in Kakashi-sensei’s voice now. We haven’t meant much to them, that girl and I, but I know we shall never burn out from their memory, if only to stay as ghosts of subconsciousness.
He doesn’t go on, and I don’t push. I vanish into the pleasant darkness of my hall and while I walk up the stairs to my room, I smile. Wow, I’ve had a date with Kakashi-sensei. And here I thought my life couldn’t get any weirder!
I sit down on the bed, and it strikes me that I’m still wearing his shirt. I look out of the window, but he’s already gone. Okay, I’ll give it back tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll hold it until he needs something with long sleeves to cover him up (that would be a bit of revenge).
The shirt is grey and clean and not too new. It holds no scent; if I didn’t know, I wouldn’t identify it as his (unlike Naruto’s clothes that always look bunched up, painfully bright and smells vaguely of miso-ramen and work-out sweat). Kakashi-sensei’s just like that. Sometimes I’m not even sure I know him, but somehow I think he knows me.
That’s why the next night I end up budging nervously in front of that old movie theatre. Before I can ask myself what the hell I’m doing, I sweep myself inside, enter the dark hall and promptly find him. It’s nice to know I haven’t been mistaken. With his silvery hair and the mask on his face, he looks even more like a memory than an actual person.
I lower myself on the seat behind him, lean to his ear and whisper:
“Double blackmail material then?”
He tilts his head backwards slightly. His lips move, the fabric taut over the outline of his face.
“Not exactly fair, don’t you think? Where’s the dress?”
“It’s gone on honeymoon with your shirt.” Can’t believe I’ve just said that! “Now shut up and let me watch the mush.”
Kakashi chuckles. His unruly hair tickles my face. I giggle and push it aside as the screen is brightened with the main heroine’s cheerful smile when she lays her eyes upon her future Prince Charming.
Ah, things are definitely looking up.
July 18-August 3, 2008
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: PG
Summary: One accidental meeting, two half-hearted revelations and two items of clothing - that’s what it takes to change Sakura’s life. [mild Kakashi/Sakura] Please R&R!
Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishimoto Masashi. Lyrics from Movie Kisses by Thea Gilmore.
A/N: My (pretty poor) attempt at some humour starring rather cranky Sakura and mildly mischievous Kakashi. A bit of nostalgic romance has also seeped in.
Dedication: to my most amazing friend artsatalex for being as awesome as you are! <3
SECRETS
All those movie kisses just last too long…
Sometimes a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. At least when the girl who is terminally bored gets to a fork-road on the road of her life. (That’s what Ino would say, and I must admit I still retain a pitiful habit of listening to whatever Ino says since the time I called her Ino-chan and considered her to be my guru in all things life.)
So this girl applies her new make-up, puts on a really miniature dress with a beaded hem and whips her hair into a set of curls so tight it looks like a cloud of pink cocktail foam. By all standards she is guaranteed not only to turn heads in her directions, but to snap necks. There’s only one problem.
The girl is me.
Now, I have no illusions regarding my looks. I’m flat like a board, I have a scary-looking forehead and very weird hair. I’m a disaster at flirting, and not even a tone of make-up can make me feel more secure. That I can live with.
What I cannot live with is me not being me. Pretense isn’t really my forte, and the doll face batting her eyelashes at me from the looking-glass is someone else entirely. The cosmetics and the stunning piece of cherry-coloured fabric that has the nerve to call itself a dress were presented to me by Ino. The hairdo is also her design. In fact, the whole dance thing is her idea.
I live out a moment of panic, but I am a kunoichi after all. If I can take on a dozen of heavily armed enemy ninja, each wielding some gross crazy ninjutsu, why not a couple of local boys? Come on, girl, you can do it! I can practically see Ino wink at me.
She has sworn none of our boys will be there. The last thing I need right now is someone like Naruto laughing his head off seeing me dressed up like this.
By the time I get to the club I’m really wishing I had something to cover me up with. Like an overcoat. A very thick fluffy winter overcoat. The kind they wear in the Snow Country. Alas, it seems to be the hottest night of the summer this year, so I would most likely die of hyperthermia if I had one.
At least I’d feel decent.
The club is crowded, noisy and generously showered with glaring neon lights. It’s the most clichéd night club I’ve ever been to (considering I’ve only been to one), and I instantly know I don’t like it here. And if I don’t like the setting, I most likely won’t like the people I’ll meet here.
I might as well ask Sai to draw an improved copy of Haruno Sakura that would fit here. Handy, really.
So it comes as no surprise that I go in and go out right the next instant. The truth is, I’m scared. Lonely, too. I’m pathetic, and my knees wobble, and my chest is tight, and the dress suddenly feels invisible.
I decide to go back home, change into my slobby leggings and a very old pink t-shirt, down a bucket of cherry ice-cream and pretend the evening hasn’t happened. But as I go, I see a shiny poster at the entrance of an old movie theatre which makes me change my mind. I’ve found myself a far more pathetic way of indulging my depression. Watching a cheesy ‘lurve-till-death-do-us part’ melodrama in a very old, cheap and uncomfortable cinema. Alone.
Oh yes!
I buy a ticket and stoically sit through the first forty minutes when one of the fellow spectators suddenly catches my attention and I feel like… You just can’t describe such a feeling! Imagine all four of your wisdom teeth started growing at once. There, you get the picture.
The place is empty save for a few weepy teenage girls (somehow I feel a lot older than I should and far more cynical; blame it on a certain someone - dark hair, Sharingan eyes, smug attitude and a vocabulary consisting of two words, ‘avenger’ and ‘hn’ - if the latter can even be called a word!), and it’s hard not to notice him. Bushy hair, one eye shut, a mask concealing the better part of his face.
My thoughts are turning into one big, loud ‘ouch!’
I turn away, raise my hand to my face and hope he hasn’t seen me. Something tells me he is looking at me, but I’m three rows ahead of him, and it’s dark, and I don’t look like my usual self. Maybe he won’t-?
I’m probably leaking my chakra all over the place, but he doesn’t have to feel it, does he?
By the end of the movie I feel as if someone has been a jerk enough to use my brain for a needle cushion. I sneak out of the cinema and sigh with relief. Phew!
Alas, lady luck is such a-. I glance back for a moment and freeze: he is standing right behind me, and I can tell the perv is grinning beneath his mask.
“Now I have something to blackmail you with,” he declares cheerfully.
I wrinkle my nose. “As if you’ve just been looking for an excuse.”
My whole life floats before my eyes. But hang on! Why am I being so dramatic? So my sensei saw me dressed the way no sensei should ever-ever-ever see his student dress and he’s probably going to tell everyone. So what? But then…
My turn to grin. Tee hee.
“So do I.” I wink at him to make my words more convincing.
Kakashi frowns, then looks himself over. Probably imagines himself wearing a dress like that. Ugh!
“I doubt it. What with?”
“We-ell, a person like you is rather expected to go see some hot adult stuff, not schmoopy soap about flowers and butterflies and never-ending caramel kisses.”
His jaw hardens.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”
I stick my tongue out at him. We’re square.
“I’ll walk you home,” Kakashi suggests.
Not a good idea. I’ve only just escaped a gory death by embarrassment.
“I was your sensei,” he continues as his gaze drifts slowly down. “It is my duty to protect your virtue.”
Oh, he’s pushing it!
“What are you looking at over there?” I fume. “There’s nothing to look at!”
He snaps his head up so fast that I can almost hear the vertebrae in his neck crack. I think tomorrow might be a good time to continue my studies of Tsunade-sama’s famous one-finger blow. Just in case.
Meanwhile, Kakashi-sensei takes off an oversized shirt he is wearing over his sleeveless garment and hands it to me. I accept it with gratitude, though I can’t stop glowering at him. And then we find ourselves walking quietly down the street, and the silence holds until he breaks it curiously:
“So-o-o… What’s with the outfit?”
“Don’t ask,” I answer wearily. Then I (typically) break down: “It was Ino’s idea! We were supposed to meet at this club, you know, the one further up the street (Oh, he knows, I’m sure he does!) but things haven’t gone exactly the way we planned, so…”
“Not a good place,” Kakashi interrupts. I’m getting apprehensive when I see concern and disapproval written all over his face. He is being protective and this time he has a reason for that. “Don’t go there. And best tell Ino not to. It’s just not-.”
“Like she’ll listen to me,” I snort. Although... If can somehow tip Shikamaru off.
Kakashi hums thoughtfully. Things with Team Shikamaru are tricky these days. There’s just three of them instead of the regular four, and Shikamaru is getting more and more Asuma-ish these days. It generally pisses Ino off, though I can tell she is grateful for it in her own unspoken way. I still have to think up a strategy, but now I’d rather focus on the matter at hand.
“Your turn,” I state. “What’s with the mush?”
“I got bored.”
“Yeah, right.”
We fall silent once more, and little by little I notice that he has fallen in with my step and we walk so close that my shoulder nearly brushes his forearm. I squint up at him, watch a sliver of moonlight glide over his calm, relaxed face. He probably had his own reasons for being at the cinema just as he has his own reasons for everything. He’s a mystery to me after all the years I’ve known him. And maybe… just maybe he’s the only one who can make me feel not so lonely.
“Still looks nice,” Kakashi comments. I cock my head. “The dress,” he elaborates.
“If you continue, I’ll-.”
His open eye curves into a joyful crescent. “Point taken.”
We make it to my place (in one piece, which is already a minor victory). I walk up to the door, then turn around and smile at him. Maybe he’s flirting with me. Maybe I want him to flirt with me. That makes me blush and question my sanity, but seems like that’s the case.
I’m half-way into the hall when Kakashi suddenly utters:
“It’s for a friend.”
I stand still, my back on him. Let him think what he will. I’m interested, but I won’t ask. Fortunately, he can see how far my curiosity goes.
“She used to like that type of movies.” Oh… a she-friend? “She would always ask me out, but there was a war. Besides, I never really wanted to, you know, waste my time.”
I smile sadly. His friend somewhat reminds me of, well, me. I wonder who she was if he remembers her fondly and even takes time to do the things he doesn’t like for her. I wonder if someday someone who I used to want to go to the movies with will look at a sakura tree and remember me with the same warm nostalgia that I can hear in Kakashi-sensei’s voice now. We haven’t meant much to them, that girl and I, but I know we shall never burn out from their memory, if only to stay as ghosts of subconsciousness.
He doesn’t go on, and I don’t push. I vanish into the pleasant darkness of my hall and while I walk up the stairs to my room, I smile. Wow, I’ve had a date with Kakashi-sensei. And here I thought my life couldn’t get any weirder!
I sit down on the bed, and it strikes me that I’m still wearing his shirt. I look out of the window, but he’s already gone. Okay, I’ll give it back tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll hold it until he needs something with long sleeves to cover him up (that would be a bit of revenge).
The shirt is grey and clean and not too new. It holds no scent; if I didn’t know, I wouldn’t identify it as his (unlike Naruto’s clothes that always look bunched up, painfully bright and smells vaguely of miso-ramen and work-out sweat). Kakashi-sensei’s just like that. Sometimes I’m not even sure I know him, but somehow I think he knows me.
That’s why the next night I end up budging nervously in front of that old movie theatre. Before I can ask myself what the hell I’m doing, I sweep myself inside, enter the dark hall and promptly find him. It’s nice to know I haven’t been mistaken. With his silvery hair and the mask on his face, he looks even more like a memory than an actual person.
I lower myself on the seat behind him, lean to his ear and whisper:
“Double blackmail material then?”
He tilts his head backwards slightly. His lips move, the fabric taut over the outline of his face.
“Not exactly fair, don’t you think? Where’s the dress?”
“It’s gone on honeymoon with your shirt.” Can’t believe I’ve just said that! “Now shut up and let me watch the mush.”
Kakashi chuckles. His unruly hair tickles my face. I giggle and push it aside as the screen is brightened with the main heroine’s cheerful smile when she lays her eyes upon her future Prince Charming.
Ah, things are definitely looking up.
July 18-August 3, 2008