Chapter Text
Egotism isn't one of the principles that they teach you at the academy, but it's a trait that Kakashi occasionally indulges in all the same. It's hard not to when the ground you walk on is woven with gold, at least in the eyes of others. Men and women alike look at Kakashi with what's typically called desire, so sometimes he might pretend he doesn't notice the lingering looks. But he's only human, and he can't help how others perceive him. Despite this, he doesn't really accept their clumsy advances—not like when he was younger, a lonely teenager looking for absolution from strangers. Kakashi has since outgrown such pastimes.
This doesn't explain why he's on the wrong side of the village with a stranger mouthing at his throat. Getting drunk isn't really his thing, and yet here he is, with the sting of liquor still on his tongue because drunk Kakashi has trouble sticking to his own rules. The mouth dips lower, to his collarbone. He laughs, finally looking at his would-be lover properly. The bar had been dim enough that all he could ascertain was that she was slight of frame, too weak to be a kunoichi. Out here, pressed up against a wall, under the lamp light, her features are clear: dark hair and even darker eyes, set above a nose that he's sure would slot up against his well enough, when they get to kissing.
"You don't waste much time, do you?" he says, words muffled against the crown of her head until she breaks away and looks up at him, like he's stating the obvious.
"Wasting time when I'm with the infamous Copy-Ninja doesn't seem like a good idea. Does it?" Her voice is light enough that Kakashi could almost mistake the words, but there's no mishearing that moniker.
The thrum of alcohol loses its warmth in an instant. It's a mood killer to be reminded of who he is. It always has been. But Kakashi can endure it for one night, playing up to expectations once again, standing up on stage even when trying to be intimate.
"We can take it slow," he says, the sentiment like gravel between his molars, insistent despite his dampened ardour. He's reaching out a pale hand, to trace at her jaw the way they always like it when she speaks again.
"Do you keep the mask on in bed then?"
Kakashi drops his hand. He can feel his face twisting into a grimace, disappointed at how the night is turning out.
It seems this might be a lost cause.
There's not much that won't make him roll his eyes but this probably doesn't even deserve a response. Still, Kakashi isn't one to kiss and turn away, so he tries for a gentle rejection, slinging an arm around the girl's shoulder under the guise of charm.
"This has certainly been an experience," he starts, leaning down so she can better understand through the haze of beer. He's about to go on his signature spiel of needing to go deal with shinobi paperwork when a shrill whistle sounds out from somewhere ahead of them.
Kakashi tilts his head at the appearance of Asuma and Genma. They're both out of their fatigues, probably on their way to bar hop during some rare downtime. It's just Kakashi's luck that they choose now to show up.
"I didn't realise you know how to have fun," calls Genma, voice echoing in the silence of the night. He's swapped out his customary senbon for a cigarette, pausing to take a drag and Kakashi does roll his eyes now, turning slightly to spare the girl from any embarrassment.
"Immaturity really is your forte, Genma. But don't blame me when you go home alone tonight." He grins, exaggerating the action so they can see even through the mask.
Asuma remains quiet, which is strange because he's known to be far more crude than Genma. He's squinting, scrutinising the scene for a bit longer than what Kakashi deems to be necessary.
"Is that you, Mai?" Asuma says, inching forward as he does so. Kakashi blinks, uncertain as to who's being addressed before he remembers that there's someone at his side.
So, that's her name.
"You know each other?"
Mai extricates herself from Kakashi's grip, cheeks burning red despite the chill of the night.
"Yeah. She's Iruka's cousin." It clicks into place why Asuma looks so devilish right now. Iruka's cousin. The one that he's always proudly lauded as a little sister. Kakashi leans away, trying to be discreet in creating distance between them.
Well, we were bound to meet at some point.
"Oh, yeah. I was escorting her home because I know how many strange men lurk the streets at this time."
"It looked like you were doing a bit more than just escorting," Genma teases, wiggling his eyebrows in suggestion.
"That sounds more like the kind of thing you might do. I, on the other hand, am an honourable shinobi. Isn't that right, Mai?"
"Yeah, sure. Can you please walk me home now? I have an early morning tomorrow." Mai's shivering, cold finally hitting her now that the fun is over. She's a good liar for a civilian. It's probably a result from having Iruka as a relative. He's more strict than most and Kakashi can imagine that gets tiring for a young woman trying to explore the world.
Despite his earlier distaste, a pang of sympathy hits. Kakashi shrugs off his haori and drapes it around her. "I'll see you guys later. I trust that you won't be spreading any nonsense about. Right?" Kakashi might be addressing the both of them but it's Asuma who he's looking at. It would be a major pain if Iruka caught wind of this.
"Have you no faith?" Asuma waves him off. "Go on. Have a nice walk."
Kakashi is too drunk and too tired to offer up a retort. He takes a step forward and Mai moves to follow but stumbles, looking more like a newborn calf than a grown woman. He draws her close, holding her by the arm for support, ignoring the fading titters from behind them.
"Where do you live?"
"On the other side of town."
It's just Kakashi's luck that not only does he pick up Iruka's cousin of all people, but now he's escorting her home in all her groupie glory when what he wants is to sleep. The one relief is that they didn't go any further, so he's really guilty of nothing but being too nice when she hasn't done anything to deserve such a courtesy.
I'm going to wake up with the worst hangover.
***
He does, in fact, wake up with a hangover. It feels like he's taken three shuriken to the back of his skull. The thrum of blood rushing through his head is present no matter how deep he tries to bury his face into the covers. It's probably a sign he should get up and join the world of the living, instead of moping in his room.
Kakashi groans when he stumbles out of bed. The warmth is already seeping out his limbs as he trudges into the bathroom. It's startling to see his reflection this morning: more ghoul than man with how the hangover has robbed him of all colour. It's a wonder that he got up at all. But Kakashi is used to discomfort, has actively sought it out for more than a decade now, so a headache is less a hurdle and more an inconvenience.
Hiruzen has mandated that all ANBU get regular leave and Kakashi is currently on his. There's not much to do but train. Once, Kakashi may have enjoyed the prospect of lounging about but it's now second nature to guard the Hokage. He has trouble shaking off the second skin of stealth that he wears with him everywhere. Even as he stands here, alone in his kitchen, there's trepidation in waiting for an invisible threat.
Alone.
That's another thing that's bothering him. Kakashi is alone. The old clock on the wall says that it's already noon but he awoke to an empty apartment. Of course, he's aware that Mai was safely walked home but it's not her that he has in mind. Gai knows that Kakashi is on leave. He had been mentally preparing himself to be bombarded with challenges and yet, Gai isn't here.
Oh well.
It's could be a blessing in disguise. Whatever deity is out there has given him a break. He should probably savour it. Kakashi opts for a light breakfast before heading out to the training grounds to exercise his skills against the same training dummies that have been there for years.
Three days pass like this, training and reading Icha Icha in turn. It should be blissful but Kakashi is bored.
It's unlike Gai to be this quiet.
While Kakashi has seen a lot of his comrades on his daily walks around the Leaf, Gai's boisterous presence has been missing. Kakashi knows his schedule well enough to know that he's not on a mission right now so what gives?
"Are you listening?"
"Yes, Anko. I'm listening." Kakashi was not listening, choosing to let Anko's words wash over him. It's a comfort to have her ramble on, recounting her latest mishap with enthusiasm. But she would probably not take it as a compliment and he isn't willing to test that theory.
"So, you're coming?" she asks, picking up her pace to keep up with Kakashi's longer legs.
"Coming?" Kakashi says, slowing slightly as he glances down at her.
"To Paru tonight for food and drinks. Iruka insisted we all gather while you can't use work as an excuse."
"I'm busy tonight."
Anko huffs out a frustrated breath before pulling him to a stop. "Busy with what? You train enough as it is and I know you're not meeting anyone because everyone is going to be there. Kurenai, Genma, Gai-"
Gai.
"You know, I know more than just the shinobi from our class," Kakashi says, cutting her off.
Anko stares at him for a moment. Then she grins, slow and confident, and Kakashi wonders what he's said to warrant such a reaction.
"Believe me when I say, I know." Anko pats at his arm. "You really should come along."
"I'll come." Kakashi had made up his mind the moment he heard Gai's name. "I might be late, though."
"When are you not? I'll inform Iruka. My job is done." Anko nods, looking satisfied.
"And here I thought you were here for my company."
"Maybe next time." Anko is already stalking off, like she's completed a difficult mission, leaving Kakashi in the dust.
***
Seeing as how Anko didn't actually tell Kakashi when to arrive, he ends up only being 15 minutes late, sauntering in while the menu is still being decided on. The Paru is a large establishment but he finds their table with ease, heading straight for the noisy group in the back.
"Kakashi! I think this is a record, don't you?" Asuma says, pulling out the chair at his side and gesturing for him to sit. Kakashi slides in and holds up a hand in greeting.
"Since Anko went to the trouble of coaxing me into coming, I thought I would make an effort." Kakashi's eyes crease as he smiles, casting his gaze around in the low light. It seems everyone is already here. Across from him, Gai sits in silence, scrutinising the menu despite the fact that he orders the same thing every time.
Kakashi is hesitant to speak up. It's strange. He's known Gai his entire life, but for some reason, he's tongue-tied. Gai is usually the one to drag Kakashi into conversation.
"Where have you been, Gai?" Kakashi asks, tone light, examining his nails as he does so.
Gai is doing that thing he always does when he's reading: mouthing the words out of habit, but he stops at the question. "I've been in the village, Rival. Working hard! It's good that Iruka thought of us all gathering like this. I've been craving a good night out, and what's better than seeing friends?" Gai's exuberant, all his teeth on show as he grins, and it would be a lie if Kakashi were to say it's not a comfort.
"I haven't seen you around as of late." Kakashi shrugs, nonchalant in spite of the hurt.
"I have to train to keep up with you, Rival. I can't let you get ahead of me before I've even reached my peak." Gai does his signature Nice Guy pose, jostling Ebisu who scoots further away in silence.
There's a pang in Kakashi's chest at Gai's mannerisms, as familiar as his own body. The restaurant has filled up more now, with the evening rush in full swing and the others are all engaged in chatter, creating a bubble of white noise. Kakashi dips his head forward, closer to Gai in an attempt at more privacy.
"I've missed you," he allows himself to say, a fraction of the truth. Kakashi might feign nonchalance but Gai is more than routine, he's an important part of Kakashi's day and it wasn't until he entered the restaurant that he realised just how much he was missing his friend.
"That's only natural. I am your rival after all." Kakashi frowns. It was not the response he had been expecting. Gai's back to reading the menu, mouth moving silently, not showing the slightest bit of interest in Kakashi.
Asuma must been listening in because he elbows Kakashi, the pressure light and jovial. "I would have thought you were too busy to be missing anyone." The people sitting closest to them at the table quieten down as his voice booms, and suddenly all attention is on Kakashi.
"I'm not quite sure what you mean, Asuma." Kakashi's voice is low and tight with tension, a warning as much as it is a threat but Asuma has never been one to heed warnings.
"I would have thought you'd be preoccupied with certain activities." It's times like this that Kakashi considers what would happen if he were to harm a fellow jounin. Asuma's lascivious grin is bordering on unbearable. Would becoming a missing-nin be worth it?
Probably not, Kakashi thinks, half-disappointed with the conclusion. He sits up straighter, meeting Asuma head on.
"Are you referring to my training? I can assure you that I'm keeping it to a minimum for my leave."
"You're definitely training something but I don't know if it's appropriate to talk about at the dinner table," Ebisu mutters, leading to a chorus of laughter from the most immature members of their party.
"I, for one, think Mai is a good match for you. Good job on finally committing, Kakashi." The room grows warmer at Anko's words, and Kakashi glances at Iruka who's deep in conversation at the other end of the table with Shizune.
"I see you all have nothing better to do than spread baseless rumours. Asuma, you gave me your word."
"I may have but Genma didn't. You know he's always gossiping with Gai and Ebisu."
Kakashi sighs, a dismissive sound that has Asuma changing the subject. When Kakashi swivels to his left to ice the other out, his eyes meet Gai's whose gaze flickers away in an instant.
Strange.
The waiter interrupts before Kakashi can confirm whether Gai really is avoiding looking at him.
"Can I take your order?"
They go in a circle, each recounting their preferred meal. It's when they get to Gai that Kakashi is tripped up.
"I'll have the dragon roll."
"The dragon roll?" Kakashi repeats, questioning his own hearing. "You always have sashimi."
Gai squints at him. "I like the dragon roll too."
"You've never had it." There's something crawling under Kakashi's skin—something is different but he can't tell what.
"I have," Gai huffs, seeming to have taken offense at Kakashi's disbelief.
"You're up, Kakashi. He's waiting." Asuma drags his attention back to the waiter, and Kakashi says the first thing that comes to mind.
"Sashimi."
He doesn't miss how Gai frowns.
It's only after—when they're all stumbling out the doors into the bitter night air; half of them too drunk to walk straight—that Anko latches onto Kakashi's side for stability. He's beginning to feel like the resident steward for alcoholics.
"He has had it before, y'know," she says, the letters slurring enough that Kakashi rolls his eyes. Anko always ends up puking before anyone else.
"Who's had what?" He asks, enunciating carefully. The others are all walking on the narrow path ahead, clutching each other in a similar fashion.
"Gai. He's had dragon rolls."
"When?" Kakashi asks but Anko slumps over—guaranteed to be useless until morning. He supports her weight out of habit, lugging her along but his mind is somewhere else entirely. He can see Gai, somewhere in the line in front, his head bobbing as he walks. It's the way he always walks whenever he's drunk, putting just a bit too much energy into each step. He hadn't waited for Kakashi when they left, hadn't even looked at him.
For the first time, Kakashi feels out of place by Gai's side.
***
It takes a while for Kakashi to get home. There had been quite the commotion when Iruka had insisted on sleeping in the gutter for the night. It was only Kakashi's wavering conscience that ensured he sent the drunks safely on their way before he finally trudged back to his apartment.
He arrives to a cold hallway. There's been a draught coming from somewhere for weeks but Kakashi figures that it'll help when spring rolls around. Mai still has his haori so he's been sporting goosebumps the entire night, chakra regulation doing absolutely nothing for him.
"I'm home," he calls out, into the dark.
There's no answer. He's pretty sure that a person can be driven mad by talking to themself. One day, he'll have to stop doing it. It wouldn't bode well for an ANBU member to lose their mind. Not unless he wants to be put down like a dog.
I really must be tired.
It's close to three in the morning but there's a restlessness that's been nestled beneath his skin since he entered Paru. Kakashi is missing something. He's sure of it.
His feet lead him into his room, going straight for the rickety desk he's had since attending the academy. All the drawers but one is left unlocked. The others hold nothing but stationary and spare copies of Icha Icha. He fishes the key out of a hidden cubby and unlocks the drawer to reveal a bundle of letters. There's a thin layer of dust coating the topmost letter, a testament to how long it's been since he last looked at them.
Kakashi settles at his desk and gingerly unwraps the twine from around the bundle. There's a brief moment where he studies the gold leaf adorning the newest envelope, crumbling despite the care he's taken to preserve it. He pushes it aside and goes for the oldest letter.
The thing is, Kakashi can't place exactly how he received this letter. It must have been when he was around thirteen, posted to him at some point or the other. But Kakashi isn't unknown and hasn't been for a long time. It's not like he hasn't received others, all clearly marking the sender in the hopes that he would reach out and reciprocate. So, when he received this letter—with the flimsy envelope and his address written in stodgy handwriting–he didn't consider it to be anything special.
It did, however, have one marked difference. There was no return address. The envelope had been left blank where it would usually be written. It's the only reason Kakashi had opened it up, to see who had chosen to omit this information. Except, there had been no name either.
So, he stuck it in a drawer. And when the other nameless letters came, he stuck those in a drawer too.
Kakashi might not remember the exact circumstances of how he got the letter but he remembers the content well. He's read it enough times that he can picture the print in his mind, the way the pen must have burst because the ink bled just a bit too much, the last sentence which was stricken through. Still, he pries open the envelope, taking his time before pulling out the yellowing page.
In plain script, it reads as follows:
You're really cool. I know that it might not be important to you but I've always thought that.
That's it. Just a simple message of admiration. The following letters followed a similar theme with one arriving every eight weeks like clockwork. Over time, the handwriting improved, becoming swooping cursive and the card stock increased in value. By the time he was an adult the letters started including interesting tidbits from the sender's life, but they always ended with an observation about Kakashi.
What started as curiosity ended up as a habit. There's a certain comfort to be derived from reading the letters: tracing the script whenever it wanders off the line, laughing at a joke that was probably never that funny.
He's not sure why tonight has driven him to look at these cards again but he watched a person he's never met grow up through them. It's probably not a good sign that one of Kakashi's most enduring relationships is with a string of letters that span a decade. Especially, considering the letters stopped coming over two months ago.
***
The frosted grass is speckled with dew drops but Kakashi is laying down on the ground, stretching his limbs out as he watches the sky come into clarity with the sun. He had a fitful sleep, totalling less than an hour, and had left his apartment while it was still pitch-black. There was nowhere to go other than the park so here he is, with the earth pressed against his back and his shirt soaking up the remnants of rain.
He thinks he could fall asleep here, away from the stinging emptiness of his home. But imagine the rumours that would breed. Kakashi Hatake a Homeless Vagrant?!
It's not like he can't function without sleep. He did it often enough, in the early days after his father's demise. Then again with each consecutive death. The waking world was a nightmare but it had nothing on Kakashi's dreams, where he was always stuck in moments of tragedy, his chidori buzzing endlessly no matter how much he tried to turn away.
Maybe, I deserve this. A cranefly hovers above, obscuring his unimpeded view of the sky. Maybe, I don't deserve to be content when they're all dead. Kakashi jolts when the cranefly grazes his skin, pulling him out of the idea and back to the space of the living. He hasn't had that thought for a while, now. But that doesn't mean it can't be true.
He stops looking at the sky and rises to his feet. There's better things to do than feeling sorry for himself.
It's only when Kakashi is in the heart of the village, passing by the marketplace that is slowly rumbling to life, that he realises he doesn't have a plan in mind for his day. Training is all well and good but there's only so many times he can visit the training grounds to batter the dummies.
I should check in on how everyone's doing from yesterday.
It's such a good idea that Kakashi even pops in to a cafe to buy porridge, as a sort of hangover gift. He heads straight for the nearest house, which just so happens to be Anko's. She lives right off Main Street, that tends to be rowdy even at the best of times but the rent is cheap so she puts up with it. There's a good few minutes where Kakashi is left standing at her doorstep with no sign of anyone being inside despite his insistent knocks. Then there's a bang and the door swings open to reveal a disheveled Anko, wearing inside-out pyjamas.
"What are you doing here?" she rasps, still seeming to be half asleep, judging by the way her eyes are crusted over with night dust.
Kakashi lifts the bag in his hand—making sure the scent of cinnamon wafts in her direction—with his signature eye smile. "Porridge."
"No."
Anko attempts to close the door but she's slower than usual and Kakashi easily holds it open.
"That's no way to treat a guest."
"Guest? You're a pain in the ass." Still, Anko relents and turns, dragging her feet as she leads into the kitchen. It's small but infinitely warmer than Kakashi's place, decorated with pictures and paintings of them all over the years. There's even a few featuring Kakashi, despite his camera-shy nature.
"You never visit me." Anko snatches the porridge from him, setting out two bowls at the table for them. Kakashi doesn't point out that she hasn't brushed her teeth.
"I was here for New Years."
"Two years ago."
Kakashi smiles, again. "It still counts."
Anko ignores that and sits, already digging into her food. Kakashi sits opposite her, stirring his porridge for the sake of it. "Thanks for dropping me off home."
"You remember?"
"No, but you were the only one sober enough to do so."
"You're all alcoholics," Kakashi says, pointing at her with his spoon, accidentally flinging a chunk onto the table between them.
Anko narrows her eyes and he hastily picks up a tissue to wipe at the mess before she can instruct him to. "I heard that you got drunk all by yourself a couple of days ago. So, I don't think you can talk."
"I wasn't alone," Kakashi mutters, looking down at his hands that are still red from the cold.
"You said that was a rumour." Anko's pauses, putting her spoon back down to study him with a shrewd eye. Kakashi hates when she has that look on her face, it means she's seeing through him.
"Why are you here, really?"
"I told you."
"Cut the crap."
He pushes his bowl away, taking his time to consider his words. "Yesterday, you said that Gai has had dragon rolls but you passed out right after." It's hard not to feel foolish about bringing this up but Kakashi can't suppress the niggling feeling that it matters.
Anko looks quizzical, brows knitting together. "Yes. So?"
"Well, when did he?"
"Oh. I just meant he goes there often enough with Sora and she loves dragon rolls."
"Sora."
"You know, Sora." Anko frowns, taking in his blank expression. "Don't you?"
Kakashi has a bad feeling about this. "Who's Sora?"
Anko looks away, avoiding his eyes under the guise of wiping at her face. "I thought Gai told you everything."
Kakashi thought so too.
"They met on a mission a while back, one out of the village. He introduced her to us a couple of weeks ago."
Ah, Kakashi thinks, that's why he's had no time for me.
Gai's in a relationship.