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“So!” Misaki began as she used a couple of back handsprings to dodge the shuriken that Kakshi had thrown at her from, it seemed, multiple directions. She wouldn’t normally go for such flashy acrobatics in battle, but they were only sparring casually, and she liked the flips. Of course, that meant sacrificing some speed and therefore much of the distance she’d managed to keep between them so far, so as soon as she’d gotten back on her feet once more she had to body flicker away from a kunai to the gut. (Casual was relative for jounin.) “Oh, I’m gonna get you for that. But! As I was saying, I’ve been thinking—“
“Oh no!” Kakashi despaired mockingly, already ducking under the spray of senbon that she fired at him in response.
He wasn’t so quick to get away when she immediately followed up by pouncing at him. There was a series of metallic clangs as their kunai clashed again and again, neither making to disengage until Misaki felt static electricity arcing up her arm from where Kakashi’s hand had just barely brushed against her. A weak lightning jutsu, meant more playfully than anything. She flipped away—Kakashi choosing not to follow—and wiped a bit of blood from a shallow cut on her cheek, sticking her tongue out at him. He smirked.
“I was thinking—“
“Always a dangerous occurrence.”
“Kakashi! You’re the worst,” she huffed, half accusingly and half laughingly. Ignoring the temptation to stomp her foot, she rushed him again. This time they exchanged a flurry of jabs, sans weapons.
“And you’re cute when you pout like that,” he said nonchalantly as he stepped out of the way of a would-be strike to the shoulder. It was so disarming that she froze for a split second, surprised, and couldn’t quite jump fast enough to avoid Kakashi’s foot sweeping her legs out from under her. She recovered her footing with another handspring.
He didn’t give her another second, though, and the intensity of the spar rocketed up a few notches. Blows traded moved faster and faster, every other one a ‘near miss’ that only just glanced off of her, sending more faint ripples of electricity across her skin. And now she knew he was teasing her.
Time to fight fire with fire.
Misaki’s own chakra nature tended towards water, but she had quite a few other elemental jutsu under her belt. She could certainly match the weaker lightning jutsu he was using—and she did, of course, because it would throw him off of the real idea that was formulating in the back of her mind. It would be a bit tricky to accomplish, but she would at least damn well try.
She started slow: in between charging up her fingers with the smallest amounts of electricity, she whipped up a faint wind jutsu to ruffle his hair. When he showed no particular sign of knowing that it was her, she guided the jutsu toward the back of his neck, and was extremely satisfied to see the slightest hint of a shiver. The air from this particular jutsu was more directed than the last, and with how little chakra she put into it, it was enough to mimic the sensation of someone blowing a soft breath of air at its target.
That, of course, tipped him off to her true intentions, but she couldn’t just stop before completing the last step, now could she?
On impulse, Misaki decided not to use a jutsu for this one. She kept light on her feet, dancing around him and extending her jabs out to the farther reaches of her range as much as she could without over-balancing. This forced Kakashi, when he couldn’t block, to twist more as he dodged, staying in a smaller area. He kept his guard up, clearly wondering what she planned, but she was determined to finish this her way.
When she finally spotted the smallest opening, she took it with enthusiasm. Using a bit of chakra to boost herself up over his head, she threw her arms around his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist from behind. He tried to throw her off, but she held on tight, and he couldn’t exactly reach her while she was on his back. She hooked her chin over his shoulder and blew directly into his ear.
This time it was Kakashi who froze.
Giggling, Misaki’s hold loosened, and what happened next was a bit of a blur. The world tilted, and the next thing she knew she was on the ground, her wrists pinned on either side of her head, Kakashi straddling her hips. “Well now,” he drawled, his face very close to hers, “I think that’s my win.”
She stared up at him with wide eyes, a flush spreading across her face that had nothing to do with how much exertion they’d just put themselves through. “What were you saying earlier?” he prompted when it was clear she was lost for words.
“…I don’t remember,” she said faintly. Kakashi hummed, tilting his head.
“Aa, then the danger has passed,” he teased.
“Just you wait,” she muttered, but even that sentiment came out slightly breathless.
“Oh? Maybe I will,” he said. “I’m feeling very comfortable at the moment. Aren’t you?”
She wondered if it was possible for her face to turn any redder. Kakashi was, as ever, wearing his mask, and he hadn’t uncovered his Sharingan for this particular spar, so very little of his face was visible—but the intensity of his uncovered eye alone seared into her, belying the lightness of his tone. Her pulse thudded in her ears and she knew he could feel it, with the particular way his fingers rested on her wrists.
Kakashi leaned over further and pressed his masked lips to the spot just behind her ear. His breath through the thin cloth sent goosebumps along her skin, and Misaki leaned into him, wanting more. An amused huff escaped him, but he did oblige, pressing kisses down along her jawline. She sighed, and he pulled back, practically radiating smugness.
“You are an infuriating man, you know that, right?” she said, but the corners of her mouth were ticking up.
“What’s that? I’m an invigorating man?”
There was a half second’s pause before the giggles burst out of her all at once and without restraint. “That was so lame!” Misaki exclaimed, pushing against his hands without any real intent. They both knew she could have gotten out of his hold if she really wanted to, especially since his grip was still kept light enough that even a civilian could twist away if they tried.
“Maa, Saki-chan, you wound me,” Kakashi lamented. But he was absolutely smiling under that mask of his.
“So lame,” she emphasized, still giggling.
He heaved out a sigh and leaned over again—and her laughter cut short with a hitched breath at the sudden feeling of his bare lips against her neck. When had he even pulled his mask down? She hadn’t noticed him letting go of her either of her wrists to do so.
Kakashi trailed open-mouthed kisses along her throat, occasionally dragging his teeth (sharper than she’d expected, way back before he first let her see under the mask) lightly across the sensitive skin there. “Oh,” Misaki gasped, squirming underneath him as he sucked briefly at her pulse. “‘Kashi—“
“Hm?” he said, pulling back again with a smirk. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah. You, you awful scarecrow,” she huffed. It was only the work of a moment to twist her hands free of his grip and pull him down into a burning kiss.
(It would be awhile before she remembered what she’d been trying to bring up in the first place.
But honestly? She didn’t mind at all.)