Chapter Text
Kakashi moves quickly, flitting through the forest on tree branches as he makes his way back to the village. The smell of summer humidity and foliage mixes with the coppery tang of flowing blood. He’s injured, perhaps a few broken ribs but nothing he can’t nurse on his own in the privacy of his dorm. He can feel the blood on his face congealing and sweat cooling as the wind whips past him. The mission he’s returning from was routine, boring at times, typical for a scroll delivery. However, the missing nin who ambushed him at the border proved to be a challenge.
Something catches him off guard as he almost falls to the forest floor when he senses an achingly familiar chakra signature slightly ahead of him. Cursing the reactionary part of his nervous system, he gains his footing in the tree canopy. He crosses an invisible distance, and soon sees the source of warm, yellow chakra walking along the main path into Konoha. He keeps his own chakra confined as he has for years, hoping that even with the noise he might be able to go unnoticed once again.
He takes a moment to detail the scene below him - the bright green jumpsuit and contrasting red hitai-ate tied around the waist, the crunch of soil from each step taken, silky black hair swishing under the filtered sunlight. Gai, always so visible and unafraid to be seen, to be perceived. Kakashi’s breath catches in his throat as he pivots immediately, a reflex from years of avoidance.
Too late, however, as Gai has already called his name aloud into the air. Not loudly, just enough to prove he’s sure Kakashi is out there somewhere. Gai’s bangs part across his forehead as he gazes up, looking for a flash of white hair amongst the leaves. Frozen on a branch directly above him, Kakashi feels a pull he can’t ignore anymore — he’s injured, breathing shakily and can hardly keep his grip on the branch he’s currently perched on. Besides, it’s useless to pretend when someone who knows the exact shape of his soul calls out so wantonly.
Shyly swinging down from the branch, he lands in front of Gai and winces. His chest aches with the physical pain of his cracked ribs and a deeper ache of guilt and insignificance compounding all at the same time. Even with his mask on he feels completely see through, as though Gai’s eyes are boring directly into his thoughts.
Kakashi wishes Gai would do something, anything, to break the unfamiliar tension between them. Gai doesn’t yell. It would be much easier if Gai would yell at Kakashi. Instead he breaks in the quiet, lethal way that only someone like Gai can do.
“I didn’t think I would have seen you out here, like this.” Gai croaks in the smallest voice Kakashi has ever heard come from his throat. Kakashi didn’t know his voice had the ability to be so tender yet so poisonous at the same time. He has heard Gai shout war cries at enemies more times than he could count, yet this small sentence has sent shivers down his scalp in a way that has never occurred before.
Kakashi feels the weight of his decision to slip out the window years ago crash on to him all at once in that moment. He wants to deflect, apologize, explain, do his whole self-sacrificial logic spiral. I didn’t want you to hurt. I thought you would be better without me. I couldn’t stand to see you go through the same grief I did.
“I lost my footing,” is all he managed to creak out, hoping Gai would understand the context behind his excuse. I’m injured, I’m tired, and I don’t know what came over me but I needed to finally see your face.
Gai’s deep eyes never leave his, as he steps forward and grabs Kakashi's sleeve. Not rough or angry like Kakashi feels he deserves, but just enough to anchor him. Enough to remind him of the same feeling when they were children, when Kakashi’s eyes glazed over and mouth went slack thinking of everything he lost in a year.
“You left me there, alone, Kakashi,” Gai says, fingers tangling in Kakashi’s sleeve. Kakashi can see Gai’s other hand twitch, wanting to touch but not wanting to scare him off. “Why now? I’ve waited for you to come around for years. I just about gave up on seeing you again.”
Kakashi feels his chest collapse into itself. To hear that Gai had still been waiting for Kakashi to come around, despite the circumstance, it’s more grace than Kakashi thought warranted.
They’re standing close enough for Gai to smell the copper of Kakashi’s wounds on his face, for Gai’s shaky breath to fan across Kakashi’s mask. It’s the closest Kakashi has allowed them to be since their last day together.
Kakashi finds himself taking Gai in, really taking him in, in a way he hasn’t been able to since they were still genin. Gai’s grown into his face, the sharpness of his cheekbones no longer softened by baby fat but defined. There’s a steadiness to him now that hadn’t been there when they were younger, before Kakashi left. His confidence sits easily on his features. His tan skin glows with a warmth Kakashi can feel radiating off Gai’s body.
Kakashi’s gaze catches on Gai’s eyelashes, thick and dark, absurdly long. Moisture clings to them, tiny points of tears that make Kakashi’s throat tighten. He’s never seen the physical effects of his absence before, but seeing them now — Gai’s bleary eyes, the way he’s barely holding himself together — it feels heavy. Kakashi realizes, with a dull kind of ache, the consequences of only ever seeing Gai from a distance. It’s always been across training fields, through a blur of motion, the quickest glance from a rooftop.
Now, there is no distance to hide behind.
Kakashi can see Gai’s face twist as his lip quivers, eyes watering around the rims. He reaches up tentatively, not sure if this is something he’s allowed anymore, to brush his fingers along Gai’s jaw, up his cheekbone and swipes the almost tears away. He has to force himself to look away before the weight of it all settles somewhere in his belly he can’t carry.
“I shouldn’t have made that decision for you, Gai. To leave the way I did. I’m sorry,” Kakashi breathes out, listening to Gai’s breath stutter and his feet shuffle a half step back. Kakashi takes this as his hint to step back as well, to allow each other to breathe, but Gai’s hand has moved from Kakashi’s shirt sleeve to an almost vice-like grip on his forearm.
Kakashi can see Gai’s pulse hammering in his neck, wondering if Gai can see the same through the mask that reaches down to his collarbones. Unsure if it’s the cracked ribs from his mission or the way Gai refuses to look away, Kakashi’s breathing becomes labored. He’s regretted his decision as soon as his feet landed on the soil, but he’s too selfish to deny himself from finally gaining a chance to see how Gai has been holding up.
Suddenly, his brain catches up with his body. The instinctual pull from his chakra system he worked so hard to subside dims, and he can’t believe he’s allowed himself to get this far. It’s a mistake, reckless for his sake and Gai’s.
Stumbling backwards and taking his arm back from Gai, he uses the last of his chakra to jump up into the high branches, thick foliage covering him completely. He resumes his trek to the Hokage tower but not before risking a glance back to where he stood just seconds ago. Gai - standing there holding his arm to his chest and looking at the rustling leaves in the trees above, lost.
Cracking the branches below with the force of his movements, Kakashi rips his eyes away from Gai, focusing on making it back to the village before his lungs collapse.
He can’t help but let his mind wander as he floats through the forest. That look on Gai’s face as he left was the same expression he wanted to avoid when he snuck through the window after Dai’s funeral. Refusing to let go of Kakashi until forced to was typical Gai, so much so it made Kakashi’s head spin and memories swirl up from every time Gai had been so stubborn in the past.
“Thank you, for all your support!” Maito Gai exclaimed outside of the Academy gates. By his tone he meant it sincerely, and confusion washed over Kakashi’s face. Had I said anything worth being thanked for?
The mid-morning sun casted long shadows as Maito Gai and his father continued towards the Academy entrance while Kakashi and his father walked in the opposite direction. Sandals crunched gravel underfoot, Kakashi watched as his father slowed his pace as Sakumo suddenly paused in thought and turned to Kakashi.
“You can’t slack off now simply because you were admitted to the Academy, Kakashi. At the rate he’s training, that boy will be stronger than you one day.” Sakumo stated, as he crouched to meet his son eye to eye. ”You should ask his name, remember it. He would make a good rival for you.”
”Seriously?” Kakashi looked up at his father in disbelief. Still, he too noticed the tale tell signs of intense training - scuffed sandals and scratched toes peeking out, rough and calloused hands, a ring of sweat stained dirt around the armpits of a green jumpsuit. It was known Maito Dai never made it past genin, but it appeared Gai would be trying his hardest to pass his father’s rank.
“Hey, you!” Kakashi called out, almost immediately regretting it. However, he trusted his fathers judgement. If someone was to rival Kakashi, he would be sure to keep them close enough to see for himself. “Who are you?”
”I am Maito Gai, and I’m going to be the strongest shinobi in Konoha!” Gai said with the biggest smile Kakashi has ever seen someone their age muster. Flexing a slim but lean arm, Gai turned and hurried to catch up with his father.
He wouldn’t admit it out loud, to anyone, but Kakashi was pleasantly surprised when the fall session at the Academy started and he saw one familiar face sitting off to the side of the classroom. Gai’s expression was animated, to say the least. Eyes wide, he beamed a smile to all the students who entered the classroom, nearly vibrating in his seat with a notebook and pen ready. He almost burst from excitement when Kakashi walked through the doorway, waving him over to sit next to him.
Kakashi pretended not to notice him right away, instead choosing to look around the classroom and take in his new surroundings. To his right sat the teachers desk and demonstration stage, chalkboard already dusty white with erased teachings. To his left were tiered platforms with student desks and chairs, three students to a table.
He started up the stairs to the desks, and definitely ignored Gai’s waving and bright smile (seriously, doesn’t his face hurt?). Kakashi contemplated where he would like to spend the next several hours of his day for the duration of the session. Gai did choose almost the perfect spot, off to the side as to still observe their classmates, a few rows back so they aren’t the first to be called on, and near the window - perfect for daydreaming he was anywhere but stuck in a classroom.
Eventually he decided to give in, at least a little, to Gai’s antics. Kakashi sat down in the seat closest to the window, leaving a one-seat gap between himself and his “rival” as his father called him that morning as he left for his first day. Kakashi could feel Gai’s excitement through the desk and shared bench, brimming with energy about to be unleashed.
“So, Kakashi, your dad said we should be rivals? Funny, really, because my dad said the same thing! That any good ninja has someone to keep them on their toes. So I am officially announcing us as eternal rivals! So, Rival, what does your training regimen look like? I never trained with someone who uses ninjutsu before, only my dad, so I’m curious how your training diff—“
Gai’s sentence was ended abruptly as another student eased into the empty space of the bench between them. Although his mask covered it, Kakashi still tried to suppress the smirk threatening to form on his lips as Gai’s mouth clamps shut and his eyes went wide. He was interested in learning how Gai trains without ninjutsu, but watching him flail while still being polite and introducing himself was admittedly hilarious.
“Hello there! I am Maito Gai, your fellow classmate, and this is Kakashi. What is your name?”
”I’m Kotetsu. Sorry to interrupt your conversation earlier. This was the only seat left…” Kotetsu trailed off, eyeing the only other seat available directly in front of the demonstration stage. It would remain empty unless someone had a penchant for catching a stray kunai during practice sessions.
Gai tilted his head, eyes narrowed in curiosity. “Uh, it’s okay! Hey, what’s up with that bandage around your face, are you okay? Is it some type of training technique?”
Kotetsu shrugged, and continued to rifle through his bag for a notebook and a pencil. “I just like it, I guess”
Squirming in his chair, Gai tried to continue his previous conversation with Kakashi. Since Kakashi refused to move to accommodate him, Gai had to either lean forward over the desk, or so far behind he nearly tipped himself off the bench and onto the floor. At one point, Gai leaned so far forward that Kakashi worried about the pot of ink on the desk in front of him, sure it would be tipped over before Gai could get his attention again.
Kakashi looked down to his empty notebook in front of him, and wondered why he was forced to go to the Academy at all. His father had already taught him basic ninjutsu techniques such as shadow clones, walking up trees, manifesting chakra into something tangible. He was a genius, the prodigy of the White Fang - surely he would learn more in the field than in a classroom.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a shuffling of papers and movement of bodies. Suddenly Kotetsu had slid to the edge of the desk closest to the aisle, while Gai had moved to the middle of the bench and was dangerously close to brushing shoulders with Kakashi. Kakashi allowed Gai to settle in next to him, his head tilted while hiding a twitch of amusement behind his mask.
“You see Rival,” Gai whispered conspiratorially, voice low and urgent, “now we can properly compare our training, being next to each other and all. I bet you’ve never trained with anyone like me before, so I am officially going to show you this afternoon —“
Kakashi let his gaze drift to the window, listened without saying anything, and nodded when necessary. Somehow even without speaking he could feel Gai’s energy radiating beside him. Maybe — just maybe — he was a little curious to see how far Gai’s seemingly boundless energy could go.