frumpychiccx

[frumpychiccx]

Kakashi Hatake stood atop the Hokage’s office, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other loosely holding a small book- Icha Icha Tactics, though the pages remained unturned. The village of Konoha glowed softly beneath him, lanterns flickering to life one by one like fireflies trying to push back the night. It had been a long day.

Long days had a way of turning into long weeks. And long weeks… well, they turned into long years when you weren’t paying attention. Kakashi sighed.

“Kakashi.”

The voice came soft, almost shy, from behind him. He turned- she was there, y/n, the one person who still called by his name like it meant something personal, not a title. “You’re late” , she teased, arms crossed, though the smile on her lips betrayed her amusement.

“Do you ever think about leaving?” She asked finally, not looking at him. “All the time,” Kakashi answered. She laughed, the sound light but edged with something sad. “And yet you stay.”

Someone had to. That was the unspoken truth between them, someone always had to. Kakashi glanced down at the book in his hand, then up at the sky. “It’s easier sometimes, to be needed than to be missed.” Her breath caught a little at that. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand- rough fingers against her softer ones, the brush of old calluses. She didn’t pull away.

“I won’t miss you,” she said fierce and quiet. “Liar,” Kakashi smirked. Maybe it was the sunset, or the fact that for once, the world wasn’t ending. Maybe it was the ache in his bones or the way her hand just fit in his perfectly. But in that moment, Kakashi Hatake let himself believe in small, quiet mercies, in hands held at twilight, in soft promises, in people who stayed.

“I’ll walk you home,” he offered.

“Only if you promise to not vanish tomorrow,” she teased, eyes gleaming.

“No promises,” he murmured, his hand tightened around hers more. And together, they left the rooftop behind.

[frumpychiccx]

Kakashi Hatake never thought he’d be the type to linger in the peaceful moments. A shinobi’s life didn’t allow for much peace, and that he’d long since accepted that. Missions came and went. Friends were lost. The village moved forward. And yet… there were afternoons like this.

Afternoons when his feet carried him without conscious thought to the same quiet training grounds. The same grassy field where the wind moved softly through the leaves, and the sunlight filtered through the branches.

And where they’d be…

There you were, lying in the grass, face turned to the sky, your book forgotten beside you. The sight made someone in his chest loosen- a tightness he hadn’t known was there until it had eased. He didn’t call out right away, instead, he let himself watch for a moment longer, memorizing the way the breeze gently blew your hair, how your lips curved in the ghost of a smile as you traced cloud shapes with your eyes.

“You always did know how to find the best spots,” he finally said, walking closer.

You turned, eyes lighting up when you saw him, and Kakashi felt that strange warmth again, the one that made his heartbeat ever so faster.

“I thought you were still out on a mission,” you teased.

“I was.” He dropped down beside you, stretching out on the grass, one hand behind his head. “Wrapped it up faster than expected.”

You gave him that crooked grin, he pretended that didn’t make his heartbeat race. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”

Kakashi huffed, staring up at the clouds. “Yeah, something like that.”

The silence between you was easy, it always was. With most people, Kakashi felt the need to fill the space- with jokes, pointed silences, with dismissive remarks. But with you, the quiet was more fulfilling than any words between you would be.

You pointed at a cloud. “Looks like Pakkun.”

Kakashi snorted. “Poor guy, he’d be insulted.”

“He’s cute,” you said. “Like you.”

The words hung there, teasing, light-hearted… but Kakashi’s stomach did a flip. He didn’t need to look at you to know you were smiling.

“Careful,” he murmured. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I don’t know,” you said softly, your voice carrying in the breeze. “It’s gotten me here.”

Instead, his fingers brushed against yours, not quite holding, but not pulling away either.

Maybe someday, maybe soon.

For now, this was enough.