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Shown his seat, Kakashi settled quietly at the long table with members of his own family. The wood-paneled banquet hall within the Hokage's Tower was already densely crowded; smelling of too many perfumes, hair oil and a hundred cups of hot tea, and lit only by warm sunlight through the many windows, like it was a barn. His mask was too thin to filter much of the smell, but then again that wasn't its purpose.
It was a yearly formal dinner, honoring the retired veterans in the village, as well as those who had died. Kakashi had to attend - he had plenty of dead friends to honor - beside the fact Sakura wanted to go. All of the influential clans had at least one representative tonight, and among others he noticed within his limited field of vision the Hyuuga, the Uzumaki, the Nara... the Uchiha.
While he wore his least abused uniform, his wife and daughter kneeling on the cushions next to him each wore similar red kimonos - though Sakura's was obviously the finer garment. She looked uneasily across the crowd. Really, it didn't surprise him that her eyes had already slid down the long table and lingered on that other, before looking back up at her husband. There was a question there for him in her eyes. About that one down there in the blue kimono with the black hair, kneeling next to the Hokage – Sasuke. Why were they all still sitting so far apart? Of course, Kakashi couldn't forget that this was a man she had loved in her adolescence. Was he threatened by the notion that she wished she could speak to, could still know and understand that man?
There were already plenty of reasons for their position at the end of the table. It was not a slight, but rather their relative economic importance to the village. The Hyuugas were always cozy with the Hokage. As was the Uchiha family, small though it currently was.
Much had changed to accommodate the former missing-nin within the village. Temporary imprisonment, parole, and eternal-probation, Sasuke was an absolute pariah, living under the unfaltering eye of the ANBU and all those who still wished him dead - Sharingan or no Sharingan, wealth or no wealth. Thus, Sasuke had become something of a shut-in, seldom venturing beyond the borders of the vast emptiness of the Uchiha compound.
The chasm between them was a side-effect.
Now, even though mostly banned from combat, Sasuke was his superior in many things, as Kakashi had always known he would be. Just as he had known Naruto would one day take on the mantle of Hokage. As he had known Naruto would bring Sasuke back and keep him as close as the other man would allow.
Kakashi told himself that he avoided the man on the simple basis of needing to protect his young family. Sakuke had so firmly rejected his teachings and embraced darkness so fervently, that Kakashi had found it difficult to trust him, even after agreeing to allow him back. The dogs didn't like the Uchiha, which was never a good sign. Sakura wasn't stupid, but emotions could be clouding her judgment. They might be clouding Kakashi's at the moment, as wistful as he was feeling.
He wondered whether this distance was also something his former student also maintained for his own safety – for his pride too, burying resentment and fear; maintaining what he had told Sakura and Naruto long ago. But it was stupid to believe that attachments made a man weak. He had to have grown out of such foolishness by now.
Of course they didn't talk about it, so Kakashi would never know. How easily the distance could be crossed if only one or the other would step forward. It was a shame. Life was so brief. And pride was so fragile.
It pained Sakura. He couldn't stop her from weaving her longing glance down between the pitchers and floral arrangements. No more than she could stop him from surreptitiously reading his favorite novel, while the latest speaker from the village council stood up and said his piece in front of the gathering.
Kakashi thought that he caught Sasuke looking as well, in that offhand, subtle way only a ninja could covertly peer at his subject. Was he wondering why it had come to this, considering how, or whether they should find out if certain bridges could be rebuilt and crossed again? Naruto certainly sat at his friend's side easily enough, but Naruto wasn't the sort to let things like propriety and polite understandings get in the way of something he needed. Friendship. Brotherhood. Love.
He felt Sakura's hand at his elbow. “Naruto will be over for tea tomorrow,” she said softly.
He didn't look up. “And you want to ask if it's alright if he brings him?”
“It had crossed my mind,” she said. Their daughter had her head in her mother's lap and Sakura smoothed her hand across the girl's pale hair, while her gaze tried to catch his.
He shrugged, actively staring into his book. “You don't need my permission.”
“So that means 'no'.”
“Let me think about it,” he said, almost under his breath.
“That means 'no', too,” Sakura grumbled. Their daughter, not understanding who they were talking about, looked back and forth between them, puzzled.
Kakashi looked up sharply at Sakura and fixed her with his one-eyed stare, but her answering look was just as expressive and just as stubborn. They knew each other too well. Kakashi sighed, shaking his head. “Very well. You've caught me at a weak moment.”
She snorted. “You're never weak. Tell me you don't want to talk to him.”
“I do. But there's nothing I can think to say.”
“I'm sure you'll think of something,” she said, adjusting one of her sleeves. Something about her tone of voice caught his attention.
“You've already invited him, haven't you?”
She kissed her husband's cheek. “So what if I have?”