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Kakashi's eyes blinked open into a dark apartment, and it took him a moment to come into the space between sleeping and wakefulness.. It was still nighttime, as evidenced by the lack of sunlight. It was not unusual for him to wake up in the middle of the night, but it was unusual for him to not recognize his surroundings immediately.
He was a trained shinobi. The copy ninja. You would think he could identify something as simple as what room he was waking up in. But he had been away on a mission for too long, got lost in the act of stealth and killing, and forgot what it meant to be a human - he was a living blade for the Leaf. It was hard to remember he did, in fact, have a heartbeat.
The walls were too cluttered, the windowsill had too many plants, the bed was too soft, the blanket smelled too much like a person and not anything like the clinical smell of the bleach detergent he uses.
What was this all encompassing feeling, surrounding his skin, seeping into his chakra-exhausted muscles?
Comfort, his brain supplied. He was feeling comfort.
His skin wasn't used to gentle. Hard and hardened, tough as nails, armor protecting his body at all times, and did the protection to his body extend to his mind and heart? It certainly seemed that way. Weapons demanded a sheath, an armor. There wasn't ever anything exposed.
The mask on his face pulled all the way up over his nose, his hitai-ate pulled all the way down over his eye. If he could figure out a way to see with both eyes covered he would. Never yield. Give nothing away. Display even less. Baggy clothes, layers on layers, oversized vest, pockets with secret compartments, pouches with smaller pouches. Just when you thought you understood him, there was another layer, and another six behind that.
His gaze fell on a framed photograph of Gai with his team, and suddenly he remembered.
He was in Gai’s apartment.
If Kakashi was a tightly sealed envelope, Gai was an open book. An entire saga laid out in public for anyone to see, for anyone to know. Every emotion passed his face loudly and obviously, boisterous to a fault. Even his jumpsuits hid nothing, every ridge of his body on display for anyone who could stand to look. He demanded attention, demanded recognition. Even if you weren't saying anything good about him, you had to acknowledge him.
He clawed, scraped, pushed his way to the top of the ranks, not number one, but not at the bottom either.
He was also the only one who came the closest to Kakashi's center.
Every challenge, every visit, every post-mission, Gai was there. Gai was always there, even when Kakashi didn't want him to be. Even when he wished no one was around, there was Gai, with a loud wave and even louder footfalls following behind him, yammering on and on about who knows what. Even when he pushed everyone away, all claws and teeth, Gai stood his ground and forced his way through the barriers.
The cadence of his voice started to sound like home. Kakashi needed the grounding pitch of his voice, the lilt of his phrasing, the declarations of his motivational speeches to help him remember what it meant to be human.
A weapon. A sharpened shiruken, pointed at the heart of every enemy. And when the tip of the blade was aimed at Gai's chest, Gai never shrunk back. He grabbed Kakashi's wrist and pressed it into the skin over his heart until a small drop of blood would form, rolling down the plane of his chest with a triumphant grin, as if saying "Go on, I can take it. If this is what you need, I can take it." He could take anything Kakashi threw at him.
And Kakashi threw a lot at him. Changing moods, weeks of silence, biting words, withering stares, challenges ignored. Gai took them all in stride. every wall that kakashi built, Gai just opened a new gate and smashed his way through.
On the days Kakashi couldn't feed himself, Gai challenged him to a sushi eating contest. On the days Kakashi couldn't feel his body, Gai challenged him to an ice-cold plunge. On the days Kakashi couldn't escape his mind, Gai challenged him to a no-holds spar.
Before Kakashi even knew what he needed, Gai was there with the cure. Before Kakashi even knew he was bleeding, Gai was there with bandages.
So was it any surprise that when Kakashi returned from his mission, more husk than man, his body took him directly into the comfort of Gai? Was it such a shock to him to realize that even when he couldn’t remember his own name, the fabric of his own skin, or the reason behind all the bloodshed, that he remembers the scent of Maito Gai?
Piece by piece Kakashi began to remember what had happened.
The mission, while months long and grueling, had been a success. His comrades had scouted ahead and Kakashi guarded the rear, meaning they all arrived at the village at different times.
Kakashi arrived alone. He always did. No one wanted to be around friend-killer Kakashi for too long.
His mind was a mess, trying to forget the way the enemy’s bones sounded when he twisted their neck, trying to forget the way someone else’s blood feels when it gets on your skin, trying to forget the way his blade slashed through anyone that stood in the way like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He didn’t even realize where he was going until he showed up at Gai’s window. His body automatically climbed in, like he always does. After a mission, before their challenges, Kakashi always enters Gai’s space this way. Like he’s sneaking in. Like he doesn’t deserve to use the front door.
It’s always unlocked for him. The front door and the window. Gai makes it so easy for Kakashi to come around.
Gai was sitting at his kitchen table, finishing up a meal when he turned around and saw Kakashi. If Gai had been surprised or alarmed by what he saw, he kept his face neutral.
“Good evening, rival,” he said gently, not wanting to startle Kakashi behind the cold, white porcelain of his mask. “You have returned from your mission.”
Kakashi said nothing, remained crouched in the window, staring at Gai. The light above his table cast Gai in a golden glow, the light reflecting off his shiny, black hair. Gai had changed out of his jumpsuit into a pair of green sweatpants and a grey t-shirt.
Soft, Kakashi’s mind said. Gai looked so soft in the evening glow.
When was the last time Kakashi felt like that?
The Anbu mask was digging in behind his ears, the mask he wore underneath it was tight around his mouth, the armor on his uniform laced up tightly around his ribcage, every piece of clothing on his skin leaving a mark. Nothing about him was soft. He had never been more uncomfortable in his entire life.
Gai stood up slowly from the table, and reached out a hand towards him.
“Would you like to get cleaned up?” he offered.
A choice. Given to him. Control over how he chooses to proceed from this moment into the next.
Orders, orders, that’s all Kakashi had known. These past few months and his entire life.
Kakashi looked at Gai’s hand, palm wrapped with his compression bandage, his blunt, broken, strong fingers reaching towards Kakashi as an offer.
Kakashi climbed the full way into Gai’s space and reached back out to him.
He took one step, then another before all his strength finally gave out and he collapsed, sleep deprivation and chakra exhaustion catching up to him.
But he did not fall. Gai caught him before he hit the ground, wrapping his arms around his middle, cushioning Kakashi’s head into his chest.
“I’ve got you now, Kakashi,” Gai said in a low voice, and Kakashi felt so overwhelmed he thought he might cry.
Any minute now Gai would realize he’s had enough. Any minute now Gai would kick Kakashi out onto the street when he realized how rotten he was. Any minute now Gai’s body would reject Kakashi when he realized that he was poison.
But Gai did none of that. Gai picked him up, one arm under his legs, the other under his shoulders, and brought him into the bathroom. Slowly he stripped away the layers that made up Kakashi, looking at him with more care than he deserved.
He spoke in a low voice, murmuring what he was doing as he was doing it, giving Kakashi ample time to indicate if he didn’t want something.
When Gai had peeled back enough layers to get to his face mask, he simply grabbed a washcloth from his cabinet and wet it under the sink, turning back around to hand it to Kakashi.
Dumbly, he took it from him. It was warm. Kakashi hadn’t realized he was trembling.
Kakashi stared at it for a moment, then looked up at Gai.
“Can you - “ he croaked out, voice hoarse with disuse. Gai’s eyes only widened slightly before he nodded. He brought up both hands to the top of the fabric and pulled gently down, and Kakashi gasped when the air hit the skin under his mask. The air was crisp and cool, and Kakashi could finally smell the lavender of Gai’s soap. How long had he been breathing in blood?
Gai wordlessly took the washcloth and began wiping gentle circles on the skin underneath. Kakashi didn’t want to know how much blood came off. He didn’t want to think about what he did for it to get there.
Then Gai ran a bath, steam emerging from the spout and filling the little room. Gai kept checking the temperature of the water between moments of helping Kakashi finish getting undressed. Then he picked him up and set him gently in the water, uncaring that his own shirt got wet in the process.
He scooped up water and gently ran it down Kakashi’s back, the warmth of the water settling into Kakashi’s bones, using his hand to gently softly scrub the sweat and blood off his skin. Kakashi shuddered at the skin on skin contact, but something wild in his chest started to relax.
Every touch of Gai’s skin on his reminded him that he was here, he was back, he didn’t have to fight anymore. For now, at least.
The calming scent of lavender and something just so distinctly Gai surrounded him like an embrace. He leaned into every touch like he was starved for it.
Then Gai motioned for him to stand and wrapped him in a large towel, then carried him into his bedroom. He had Kakashi sit on his bed while he rummaged around for some clothes, helping him into a shirt and pants. He also handed him a simple face-mask.
Soft, Kakashi’s mind said again. He felt soft now, too.
Gai turned down the covers of his bed and gently guided Kakashi to lay down, bringing the blankets up under his chin. He sat down next to him with one hand raised, like he was thinking better of it, before running his fingers through the silver strands. Kakashi sighed and felt his eyes slipping closed, succumbing finally, to sleep.
But now that he was awake, he wondered where Gai was. He swung his legs over the bed, and stood when he felt like they would support him.
Gai was back at the table, with a cup of tea in front of him, writing something on a notepad, bushy-brows furrowed in concentration. Kakashi stood there for a moment, admiring the way he pressed the pen down on the paper, before he called out a soft “Hey.”
Gai’s head snapped up. “Rival,” he breathed out. “You’re awake.”
Kakashi nodded. “You’re awake, too.”
Gai looked like he wanted to say something, but Kakashi just crossed the threshold until he was standing right in front of him. Gai looked up at him from under his lashes, an expression on his face that Kakashi didn’t feel brave enough to name just yet.
Instead he reached for Gai’s hand, tugging at it until he stood up, then led him back to his bedroom. Not letting go of his hand, he got back into Gai’s bed, with Gai following behind. Gai watched him, silent, as Kakashi arranged them so that he was draped over Gai’s body, head tucked under his chin, Gai’s arms wrapped around his middle. Gai inhaled for a moment, then his arms tightened on their own, a more active participant in holding Kakashi together.
“Rival - “ Gai began, but Kakashi shushed him gently.
“Tomorrow, Gai,” he said, feeling the pull of sleep again.
There was so much to say, they would have tomorrow to say them. And then hopefully the next day, and the day after that, too.