Work Text:
Itachi tucked his feet up a little more, rocking on the branch he was using as a perch and looking at his cousin. Shisui sighed, shifting his splayed fingers and looking at them, tilting his head to one side.
“Shisui-nii?” Itachi asked tentatively.
Shisui tilted his hand again, but lifted his head with a smile. “Yes, Itachi-kun?” Itachi fidgeted and Shisui beckoned to him.
Itachi hopped off his branch and over to his cousin, finding a space for himself at Shisui’s side. “What are you looking at?” he asked, tilting his head to look at Shisui’s left hand as his right arm settled across Itachi’s shoulders, keeping him close. He leaned into the touch happily, relaxing.
“Oh. . .” Shisui hummed, and Itachi looked up to find a small smile on his lips, but a sad look in his eyes. “I’m just . . . looking at my Thread.”
Itachi glanced reflexively at his cousin’s hand, though of course there was nothing there, to his eyes. He looked down at his own, instead, the bright crimson loop around his left ring finger. There was no trail leading off from it, which he knew meant either the person who awaited him at the other end was very far away, or not yet born.
“I can see it,” Shisui explained, lifting his hand and shifting it a little, eyes on the air beyond, “and I’ve followed it . . . a few times.”
“Your Fated?” Itachi asked eagerly, curious, snuggling against Shisui’s side.
“The Thread always goes slack again before I can reach them.” Shisui said quietly, and Itachi gave him a tentative hug. Shisui smiled down at him and returned it. “One day I. . . Well. One day.” he said with a sigh.
“I’m sure your Thread will come taut soon?” Itachi offered hopefully, and Shisui grinned, squeezing him tight.
“Senpai?” Tenzou questioned delicately, watching as Kakashi flexed his fingers restlessly. He’d just jerked like he’d taken an unseen hit, but he wasn’t acting like he was in pain, even the tension across his shoulders was different than he carried when in pain.
“What is it?” Kakashi asked, not looking at him.
Tenzou edged closer. “Are you all right?” he asked carefully, reaching out and just brushing his fingertips over Kakashi’s left forearm.
He dropped his hand and lifted his head, turning his face towards Tenzou with a little smile behind his mask, eye closed. “Of course, my silly little kohai. What could be wrong?”
Tenzou eyed him dubiously.
“Come on, we should keep moving.” Kakashi said, gesturing ahead, and Tenzou nodded and fell in beside him as he started off again.
Tenzou did not point out that they were not only on a training exercise rather than a mission, they were deep within Konoha and it was only the two of them. There was no particular reason to worry about staying on the move.
It took three circuits of the route they had mapped out ahead of time, varying slightly each time, and never remaining still for more than a minute or two, before Tenzou began to puzzle at it, and. . . Kakashi continued to flex his left hand, occasionally darting looks down at it.
When they paused again, Tenzou looked down at his own. His Thread rested there, a bright band - invisible to all eyes but his own, and, one day, the person who he might find at the other end of it. As of yet, Tenzou had never seen it unspool to lead him anywhere - or lead them to him - and while he had been in Root he had been grateful. He hadn’t ever been faced with making the choice to follow his orders or follow his Thread.
Kakashi, though, looked. . .
Tenzou watched as Kakashi tilted his head, looking around to his right, but straightened his fingers. He was looking at them, though he had turned his face away.
It didn’t escape Tenzou that they could have ended this exercise early so that Kakashi could follow his Thread - or that he could have suggested it, when Kakashi made no move to do so - but he remained silent until they reached the edge of the forest, turning back towards Konoha’s centre.
“Kakashi-senpai . . . are you coming along with me?” Tenzou asked, wondering if Kakashi’s Thread led back this way . . . or if the line had disappeared once more. He restrained the urge to look, as it would be the same nothing to Tenzou’s eyes regardless.
“I have nowhere else to be!” Kakashi said cheerfully, draping his arm around Tenzou’s shoulders. “Are you trying to get rid of your poor senpai?”
“Nowhere?” Tenzou repeated before he could think better of it, and his eyes darted to Kakashi’s hand for a split-second.
When he met Kakashi’s gaze again, he saw it hadn’t been missed. He winced.
“Nowhere.” Kakashi said firmly, a flat look in his eye. “Come on, kohai. I’ll even treat you for lunch today, since you did so well.”
Tenzou thanked him and didn’t press any further, taking the clear signal.
Kakashi kept glancing at his left hand from time to time as they headed back together.
Shisui’s throat was tight as he ghosted over the rooftops, following the shimmering guide of his Thread. It had shown up as he was on his way back from his mission and he had reported in and it was still here and. . .
It had been months since Shisui had tried, perhaps a year; had been so long he had wished. . . Always his soulmate left when he tried to follow their Thread, though.
Shisui kept moving, out of the residential parts of Konoha, then through another low-populated area mainly filled with storehouses and as yet empty streets, and into one of the larger training grounds. His Thread led deep into it, taking him across a stream and through an area where half a dozen logs set up as targets and the trees were all scarred and shredded from target practise, and still onwards.
The Thread was still not slackening, and Shisui’s heart raced, fluttering. Could it be that this time. . . Maybe. . .
Shisui was breathless and almost dizzy, hoping desperately as the Thread grew slowly more taut before him, and then-
Shisui trembled as he held out his left hand, nearly stumbling. The Thread led directly to a lean figure slouched against a tree not- not far away. Shisui even knew him - not- not knew him but no ninja in Konoha, and certainly no Uchiha, could say they did not know who Hatake Kakashi was.
Shisui swallowed nervously and forced himself to move forwards.
Kakashi’s head came up, turning towards him, and their Thread tautened even further as Kakashi raised his hand. When it was clear he wasn’t moving - he wasn’t running, as he must have, every time before, long before Shisui could come so close as this - Shisui darted to him, using his specialised flicker.
Kakashi hardly reacted to Shisui’s sudden appearance at his side, and Shisui stilled himself forcibly. He looked between Kakashi’s hand - and his own - and Kakashi’s mostly-covered face, which was incredibly difficult to read. The Thread was so bright a crimson it nearly glowed on Kakashi’s pale finger, disappearing up under his glove.
Shisui raised his hand tentatively, and Kakashi stiffened. Shisui froze.
“I. . .” Shisui faltered. “I’ve been searching for you.”
Kakashi looked at him, then away. “I am . . . sorry.” he said, and Shisui felt it like a knife to the heart. “To have,” he paused, “refused to allow this even to bring us to know one another.”
Shisui’s heart leapt as Kakashi spoke, and pounded when he raised his hand, their Thread shortening even more, drawn in a straight line between their hands. Shisui raised his own closer, and Kakashi took a breath, looking him in the eye.
“I am Hatake Kakashi. You are my Fated. I won’t run from you again, but I cannot promise more.” he said softly, voice steady.
Shisui’s stomach felt like it was turning over. “I am Uchiha Shisui.” he said, his own voice not quite so even. “You are my Fated.” He couldn’t quite keep the smile from his face - joy and relief and eagerness and hope. “All I would ask, and you allowed it, is the chance to know you.”
Kakashi tilted his head slightly, then let their fingers touch, and their Thread flashed brightly, looping around wrists and arms for a moment as Shisui felt the tug deep in his chest, then falling away to draw between them as it had been before.
“I would like that.” Kakashi said, and Shisui threw himself into hugging his Fated, unable to hold back.
Kakashi stiffened, but didn’t strike, even as Shisui recognised how foolish this had been, aside from being presumptuous. But his Fated. No matter how they grew to know each other, what they might become to each other. . . Shisui knew his Fated now, and his heart was fit to burst with joy and hope and the faintest warmth of what he was sure could spark into love if only they allowed it.
Kakashi shifted a little, then brought his arms up around Shisui in return, and he sagged with relief.
Kakashi smiled a little as slender, callused fingers slid over his own, twining them with the warmth of their Thread winding their fates between.
He tilted his head and nestled a little closer against Shisui’s neck, rolling his shoulder to fit more comfortably against Shisui’s side. Shisui hummed contentedly, and Kakashi opened his eyes to look at their clasped hands, their brilliant Thread wound around their hands and fingers.
Shisui squeezed his hand, and Kakashi hummed, returning the snug clasp and tilting his head up to meet Shisui’s eyes. Shisui grinned, bright and sweet, and Kakashi smothered a laugh and straightened properly, bringing them back to the same height, though he didn’t pull free of the curve of Shisui’s arm around him, and kept their fingers woven together.
Shisui raised his eyebrows, and Kakashi leaned into him, nuzzling his cheek. Shisui all but purred, returning the gentle affection, closing his eyes, and Kakashi sighed happily as he slouched down once more, letting his head rest on Shisui’s shoulder.
Shisui flexed their fingers together and shifted to press more of their sides together, and Kakashi hooked one ankle around Shisui’s as he let himself be held close and tight.