I've never been a terribly prolific author of fanfiction, but I write it. Anyone else like Naruto? I love Naruto. Kakashi has always been my favorite character, and Kakashi/Sakura my favorite pairing (with everyone being consenting adults obviously). I also love a good songfic. So when Avril Lavigne's I'm With You came on while I was running last spring (this fic is over a year old! How did that happen?!) my mind started spinning (running's good for that) and this was the result. It's a one shot, ignores Boruto, and diverges from canon towards the end of Shippuden. Spoilers through the end of Shippuden. It's 5000 words long, so bring a snack! Warning, feels ahead.
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With You
Rain in Konoha could be the sign of rebirth, a freshening of the soil that fed the roots of the trees from which the village gained its life, empowering the Hidden Leaf and all its inhabitants. But this was no such rain: this day, the rain had come down heavy and cold, not a breeze stirring the leaves, but a chill biting deep into any exposed flesh. Winter gripped the Leaf deeply, drenching the village in a stinging lash that was just short of snow. Windows and doors were shut tight against it and chimneys seeped tentative smoke into the twilight, residents attempting to drive out the chill as night began to fall. Not a soul trod the streets who did not have to, except one.
Kakashi was sixteen.
Konoha had been rebuilt for the most part by now. The Leaf was resilient, but despite its recovery from the Kyuubi’s attack, it would never be the same. The academy he had graduated from had been razed by the fox, and future students would never try to sit quietly in the back row of classroom three in the bench that squeaked no matter how little you moved, or compare the wall paint to different shades of snot, or find the elaborately decorated KH he had carved into one of its desks. The city had been rebuilt, yes, but some things could not be.
The Copy-Nin, Sharingan Kakashi, Friend-killer Kakashi, Anbu captain Kakashi, elite jōnin Hatake Kakashi, the sixteen year old orphan boy with the wild silver hair, the scar, and the mystery face, tilted his head back and allowed the rain to soak his face. His hands gripped the railing of the bridge tightly, fingernails attempting to dig into the freshly painted wood. This bridge, too, had been rebuilt- a gathering place now empty of any but himself. Obito was still dead. Rin was still dead. Now Minato-sensei was dead. And Kushina, whom Minato had entrusted him to protect. She was dead, and the demon that had killed her was sealed inside his sensei’s unacknowledged son. Failure. Sometimes it seemed his entire career had been a long succession of failures.
It’s a damn cold night. Kakashi thought, opening his eyes. His hitai-ate was pushed up onto his forehead, exposing eyes both red and black to the sting of the rain. It did not seem to matter whether the rain hissing against his corneas instigated the tears, or whether they fell of their own accord, drawn from the gnawing pit of despair that had taken up residence in his chest. No one would ever see them anyway, not with the rain. He was utterly alone, in any case. There was no one trying to find him or bring him home. Darkness had fallen, only the occasional lamp lighting the streets. The rain hammered down relentlessly, but Kakashi was unaware of the cold, or the sound of the rain on the bridge around him. He closed his eyes again. He had thought more and more often lately that maybe his father had had the right idea… a little bit of lightning in a storm like this, a tumble into the fast moving river below… no one need ever know what had happened to Sakumo’s son. Another missing body to be recorded and forgotten.
Whump.
Just as his fingers had been flexing to initiate a Chidori, something had collided with Kakashi’s leg. He flinched sharply and looked down, jerked out of his reverie, one hand automatically reaching up to slide his hitai-ate down as he realized that the object was no threat. It was not, in fact, and object: it was a person. A girl, he was sure, looking down at the thatch of pink hair that covered the face buried somewhere in his thigh. Her arms were wrapped around his leg, and they squeezed with surprising strength.
“Yo,” he said warily, and the small face turned up to look at him, pale and heart shaped, with large expanse of forehead beneath the pink locks plastered across her face. A pair of concerned jade-green eyes stared up at him. She couldn’t have been more than two or three.
“Don’t be sad. I’m with you.”
“What?” Completely nonplussed, Kakashi stared at the child still wrapped around his leg.
“You looked sad. That’s what my mama always tells me when I’m sad. She says, ‘I’m with you, and it’s all going to be ok.’ So don’t be sad! I’m with you!”
Kakashi’s first instinct was the punt the little girl back across the bridge, but this feeling was quickly shoved aside by something else, something he couldn’t quite describe that filled the pit of his stomach with warmth. It didn’t quite drive away the gnawing in his chest, but did cause the teeth to ease. His eye crinkled upwards into a smile as his lips curved beneath the mask, and despite himself, he reached out to place a hand on top of her head, and ruffled her sopping hair.
“Thank you. I feel better now. Now where-“
“Sakura! Sakura!” A frantic female voice called, and a woman came dashing around the bend in the corner, and skidded to a halt at the base of the bridge. ”Sakura, there you are! What have I told you about running off like that? Oh, shinobi-san, thank you for finding her.” Haruno Mebuki bowed at Kakashi, then beckoned to Sakura. “Come Sakura, let’s get out of this rain!”
“But I didn’t-“ Kakashi began to protest, but the little bundle of pink energy cut him off.
“OK shinobi-san! You go home and have some cocoa and feel better! I’m going to be a ninja when I grow up too!” she executed a slightly wobbly crescent kick, then raced back to her mother. They joined hands and dashed off, alternately scolding and laughing as they faded into the rain. Kakashi stared after them, then thoughtfully formed the seals and shunshined back to his apartment. Surely there was some cocoa hiding in the back of one of his cupboards…
***
Kakashi was twenty-seven.
He stood on the same bridge, and this time, his fingernails did bite into the wood. It was raining. Why did it always rain at times like this? This time it was a steady drizzle, what they called a “soft day” in some parts of the world. It wasn’t winter, so the cold did not bite deep, but a chill still crept up Kakashi’s spine, causing the flesh to creep. He shuddered, and the trickle of water that had been threatening the bottom of his hairline broke loose, cascading down his back through the gap between vest and shirt his movement had caused. The chilly water soaked through the fabric instantly, causing it to cling to the groove of his spine between the muscles of his back. Tiny splinters forked up from the railing and drove themselves beneath his fingernails. Kakashi turned his face up to the darkening sky.
Why?
“Sensei?”
The voice startled him, almost as much as the fact that he had not sensed anyone’s approach. He lowered his chin and turned to look, though he already knew who it was. Sakura stood at the edge of the bridge, questions in her eyes. Her hair lay limp against her head and neck, and he could tell that she, too, had been out in the rain for a long time.
“Sakura. What are you doing out in weather like this?”
Kakashi’s eye crinkled in its signature not-quite-real smile. His student’s mouth twitched, then curved upward as well. It was a small hint of her usual broad smile, but it was something.
“The same as you I think, Kakashi-sensei. Thinking. Missing them. Wondering what’s next. Hoping I might meet their ghosts here.” She stepped onto the bridge and crossed to stand by him, looking out over the river. Kakashi watcher her brow furrow thoughtfully. Her hands were clasped loosely behind her, the fingers of the right curled around the pinky of the left. “I wanted to be alone, and sometimes it seems like the rain helps me think.”
“Well then, I’ll let you-“ He had begun both his sentence and the hand seals to shunshin when she cut him off.
“But I’m glad I ran into you. I have good news!” Sakura smiled a real smile then, turning to face Kakashi. “Tsunade-sama has agreed to take me on as her student!”
“That’s wonderful, Sakura. I’m proud of you.” And he was, the smile genuine this time, skin crinkling all the way back to the hairline at his temple as he slid his hands into his pockets and slouched. “So-“
“So you don’t need to worry about me any more.” Sakura interrupted him for a second time, and now there was something steely about her. He had seen it before, but never quite like this. “Tsunade-sama is going to help be become the strongest kunoichi Konoha has ever seen. I swear it! Sasuke is gone, and Naruto is training with Jiraiya-sama, now I have Tsunade-sama to teach me. I’m going to work harder than anyone else, and earn my place as a shinobi!” He could almost see the
shannaro! threatening to escape her, but it was gone as soon as it had come, and her face melted back into a smile. “But sensei,” her eyes crinkled, and she stepped closer to him. “Don’t worry. We’ll always be a team. And I’m with you.”
“Eh?” The sound escaped Kakashi before he could stop it, as the gears of his memory turned rapidly, attempting to parse the phrase from somewhere in his past.
“It’s what my mom says whenever I’m sad or something’s going wrong. She says, ‘I’m with you, and it’s all going to be ok.’ So, I’m with you, sensei. And it’s all going to be ok, someday.” A tear trickled down her face, but even as it did so, this time she really did punch the air. And before he knew what has happening, Sakura had flung her arms around Kakashi’s neck- which was quite a feat at her height- and was hugging him. He stiffened, then slowly relaxed, allowing his arms to gently embrace her shoulders, one hand patting the back of her head.
“And I’m with you, Sakura-chan.”
***
Kakashi was thirty-one.
This was not his first war, and the experience hadn’t improved since last time. Death and destruction carved deep chunks out of his world. So many had died. Obito had come back from the dead, or at least what he had thought was the dead. Naruto blazed with the light of the Nine-Tails, and Sasuke radiated cold power. He had seen Sakura shatter acres of ground with her fist, seen her bring comrades back form the brink of death- bring him back from the brink of death- seen her, Byakugo unfurled, rise high on the head of the massive Katsuyu she had summoned to the field of battle, then leap through the air, illuminated by a massive burst of green chakra, as Katsuyu scattered into thousands of tiny clones, dispatched to heal and protect. He had seen her pierced by Madara, and thought his heart would stop. He had seen the fear in her eyes as they warped dimensions, seen her falling towards a pit of lava and snatched her from the air. He had seen the final shattering of her love for Sasuke when the Uchiha explained that he had only saved her from the Tsukiyomi because she happened to be there. She had always just happened to be there, for him.
Now Kakashi watched Sakura as she watched Naruto and Sasuke battle Kaguya. Her fists were clenched so tightly that blood began to pool under her fingernails. She shook like a brittle leaf in the wind, her eye blazing with fear and determination at once, her depleted body still seeming somehow to radiate with the power of her enormous chakra. This was war. Her first. Hopefully her last. Through the chaos and noise, the blood and the death and the threat of imminent destruction, Kakashi’s world narrowed to his former student’s face, and all everything else seemed to die away, granting him a moment of calm.
“Sakura.” He reached out and squeezed her arm. She turned automatically to look at him, her face still paralyzed. With two black eyes, his smile crinkled the whole of his face above the mask that still shielded his curving lips, the scarred eye tugging lopsidedly. “I’m with you, and it’s all going to be ok.” Sakura’s eyes widened, her mouth forming into a silent O. Then she returned the smile, laying her hand on top of his and giving it a gentle squeeze. When her eyes opened again, her smile had turned into a feral grin, more like a wolf baring its teeth, the roar of battle rose up again, and they both returned to the task at hand.
The sound her fist made when it connected with the back of Kaguya’s head would haunt him forever.
***
Kakashi was thirty-two.
He stood a little ways behind Sakura, hands in pockets, watching. She stood on the path outside the main gate of Konoha, staring at the place from which Sasuke had disappeared. Pardoned of his crimes, he had decided to leave the village, for a time at least, and asked Kakashi not to see him off or let anyone else do so. But he was not surprised to see Sakura there; so unsurprised that it was why he had come. He had known she would and so, for some reason, he must also. The rice-farming committee would be in hysterics that he had skipped out on their meeting, but they would have to get used to his ways sooner or later.
“I know you’re there, Kakashi.”
At some point during the war she had stopped calling him sensei, and it felt right. Kakashi slouched forward to stand next to Sakura, and glanced sideways at her. Her fingers were laced together before her, palms face up. Her eyes were dry, if slightly wistful.
“He’s gone,” she said, unnecessarily.
“Yes,” he replied, with just as little purpose.
“I don’t love him. I haven’t for years now really, but I thought I would just come talk to him one more time, at least try…” Sakura laughed, a bitter tone to her mirth, turning to face him. “Why is everything so confusing? Maybe I’m just out of my mind.”
Kakashi mirrored her motion, and reached out to catch both her hands with his. “Sakura, you’re not out of your mind. I understand… at least I think I understand. It’s confusing and sad and… we worked so hard to bring Sasuke back, and that’s all over now. But don’t worry,” her words came unbidden to his lips, “We’ll always be a team. And I’m with you.” He made to release her hands as he lowered his own, but her left hung firmly onto his right. She turned shining jade eyes upon his quiet black ones as she murmured,
“Take me somewhere new?”
Her burning desire to get out of the village, just for a short time, to leave it all behind, was palpable, and this he understood without question.
“Maa, I think I can get away with one more mission before they pin me to that desk…”
***
Kakashi was thirty-nine.
It was raining on his wedding day, but he didn’t mind. Good things always seemed to happen when it rained. It had been raining, in fact, when he’d asked Sakura to marry him.
Their relationship had grown up slowly, like ivy creeping on a stone wall, growing stronger and more tightly entwined the further it climbed. That day at the gates of Konoha had been the beginning, even if they didn’t realize it at the time. They simply seemed to fall together as though it was the most natural thing in the world- which in the end, of course, it was. Sakura was there throughout his tenure as Hokage, becoming one of his most important advisors. And he in turn supported her efforts to expand the scope of their already cutting-edge hospital and the mental health programs. No one questioned it when they began to walk through the streets hand in hand, when messengers began to find one or the other of them at the opposite home, or when, after his formal resignation as Hokage and Naruto’s elevation, Kakashi stripped off his mask and kissed Sakura for the whole village to see. There were wolf whistles and blushes aplenty, but no one was surprised. They all knew, and the shinobi community bursted with pride that two of its finest had found love with each other.
They began living together without quite noticing. Kakashi had finally returned to his family home, and Sakura had joined him on the project of cleaning, refurbishing, redecorating, and generally restoring the place to a livable condition. She spent many nights there in the process, and gradually more and more of her things began to migrate to the house. When Kakashi vacated his apartment, all of her things that were there ended up in the house. One night when Sakura appeared in his living room with a poof, complaining that she had no pajamas at home, he had casually suggested that they bring the rest of her things over in the morning. And suddenly they had been living in the Hatake family home for six months, then a year, then two years. Sakura was in every part of the place, and he knew it could never be home without her. They were united in a rock-solid, unshakeable faith that they were in this forever. A shinobi’s forever isn’t always very long, but no matter how long theirs was, they would spend it together. And yet, they had never talked about getting married.
Kakashi hadn’t been sure, that day, if he was doing the right thing. He had always been of the opinion that you should talk about getting married before anybody proposed. Sakura had never expressed any particular desire or put any pressure on him to get married… but she’d never said anything against it either. They’d already talked about all the important things: cohabitation clearly worked by now, finances mostly separate, no kids, team before mission, the smell of brussels sprouts was forbidden from the house, muddy dogs must wipe their paws before coming inside, etc. And yet somehow, the question of marriage had never come up. For all intents and purposes they were already married, so why did he feel a burning desire to make it official? He had used a henge when buying the ring, so as to avoid awkward questions from the jeweler. The little velvet box had burned a hole in his pocket, waiting for an opportune moment.
They had planned a picnic that day, walking out to a small lake near the house carrying a basket full of all their favorite things. All of the ninken came with, gamboling about and getting into play fights, running ahead and running back, playing like ordinary dogs in their time off. It began to rain just as they reached the lake, a few pitter-patters here and there. Neither of them was daunted by a little rain, and so they settled on some large rocks near the waters edge, spreading out their rustic banquet under the cover of a handkerchief tent. Kakashi watched Sakura’s hair (she had grown it out again, and today it was half up in many small braids) get slowly wetter and wetter as they laughed and talked and ate. Her skin seemed to sparkle in the greyish light, and he thought she had never looked more perfect. He straightened suddenly, cocking his head.
“I’ll be right back! I hear Bull getting into something.”
Before Sakura could reply, he had darted off into the nearby trees. She shrugged and went back to nibbling at a dango stick, humming softly to herself. Time passed. She finished her dango and leaned back, supporting herself with arms stretched out behind her, the cold surface of the rock somehow comforting beneath her palms. Sakura turned up her face to the rain, allowing it to tickle her closed eyelids as the drizzle began to come down harder and more evenly. She was already wet, so what was the point of hiding under cover?
“Ey, brsh ld-“
A familiar bass voice was struggling to say something, and Sakura immediately sat up and looked around to see Pakkun, trotting towards her on the bank. There was something in his mouth obscuring his speech, and as he halted a few feet away, he spat out a small object onto the muddy ground.
“Hey, boss lady. The boss has something for you,” the pug nodded, indicating the object. Sakura hopped down from the rock and strode over to the spot. She could feel the texture of velvet on the surface of the object through the mud that covered it, but didn’t make the connection until, bemused she opened the tiny box. Her gasp covered the sound of Kakashi materializing in front of her, on one knee on the soggy bank.
“Sakura,” his mask was pooled around his neck, and his whole face lit up as he smiled, eyes curving. It was just as well he was kneeling- his knees were shaking. “I can’t imagine my life without you. I’ve already had more life than I ever thought I’d see, and I can’t wait to see the rest of it with you. We don’t need a ceremony to tell us what we are to each other, but being able to call myself your husband would be the greatest honor of my life. Will you-“
His back hit the ground before the words "–marry me" had fully left his lips, and he found them covered by those of the kunoichi who had just tackled him with the full force of her body. Her arms wrapped around him and her fingers fisted in his hair, and they both gasped for breath when she finally broke the kiss. Soaked to the skin, covered in mud, with the uproarious laughter of a very cheeky ninken in the background, they grinned at each other from extreme close range.
“Yes,” Sakura had whispered, tracing Kakashi’s scar with one fingertip, “Yes. I’m with you. Forever.”
And so, today, all of Konoha celebrated the wedding of Haruno Sakura, the greatest medical shinobi and strongest kunoichi in the world (they were sure), and Hatake Kakashi, Rokudaime Hokage, hero of the Hidden Leaf, genius ninja, and (so the grumblings of every nin Sakura’s age said on the street) one lucky bastard. Rain drummed down on the canopies that covered the seating area of the ceremony, but it seemed to be beating a welcoming march for the couple that stood below an elaborately decorated awning. The water cascading off the sides was a waterfall of blessing. Eight neatly bathed and combed ninken lined the front row before the assembly of their friends and family. Sakura was radiant, her Byakugo almost seemingly to pulse with the excitement of her chakra. This being a formal occasion, Kakashi had allowed himself to be talked into wearing his former Hokage’s robe, but there was nothing to be done about his hair, which stuck up as wildly as ever. Sakura had laughed and said she wouldn’t know who he was without it like that anyway. Neither of them had eyes or ears for anything but the other as the ceremony went on. When at last it ended and they joined hands, leaning towards each other, there was a collective gathering of breath as Kakashi reached one hand up to pull down his mask- but at the last second, Sakura flicked open her fan, hiding their faces from view as he completed the gesture and lowered his head to kiss her. The groan from the audience was audible, and they giggled together behind the fan.
Kakashi was thirty-nine, and his life was just beginning.
***
Kakashi was old. His silver hair had turned white at some point along the way. Shinobi who managed to reach old age tended to live for a very long time, and he had stopped keeping track a while ago. Whenever someone asked how old he was, he crinkled his eyes and said, “Old enough to still be here.” He had discarded his mask long ago now, and his face usually held a gentle smile. Being old was a luxury he had never thought he would experience. Sure, his body had slowed down over the years, but that hardly mattered. The shinobi world was in an unprecedented era of peace. Many of the younger residents of Konoha had no idea who the ancient man walking slowly but steadily down the streets was at a glance, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Let Sharingan Kakashi become a piece of history. He was Old Man Hatake now, and had been for a long time.
Sakura had never looked old, not to him. Her petal-bright hair had faded to a pastel hue, her eyes had acquired some crows feet, and her steps too had slowed. But her vitality always shone through, giving her an eternally youthful quality, even when her students had begun to address her as "hii-obaasan". Perhaps it was for that reason that she had gone first: Sakura had always given so much of herself to others; maybe she had not kept enough for herself to outlive him. He had knelt by the side of their futon that day, years ago, with her hand in his, stroking her hair as her gentle breaths grew fainter and fainter. Her chakra was so small he could barely sense it. Kakashi knew what was coming, had known for some time as she slowly declined; worked less and less, then left the house less and less, and then the bed. His face was calm, but his heart was shattered. His hand stroked her hair endlessly. She had not spoken for hours. He was no longer sure she could. Try as he might to prevent it, tears welled up in his eyes, and broke to stream down his face. The salty drops landed on her face. To his shock, her eyes flickered, then opened. Sakura stared up at him from the pillow, the same Sakura he had loved all this time.
“I’m with you,” she whispered, and her gnarled fingers separated themselves from his, lifting shakily up until she poked him in the chest. “Here. Forever. I’m with you.” Her hand fell back, and he took it up again, even as her eyes drifted closed.
Several hours later, he ceased stroking her hair.
Kakashi meandered his way home. He had a cleaning and gardening service now, that came to help him with the upkeep of the Hatake family home. He nodded to the workers as they made their way off the property for the evening, remarking about how it looked like rain that night. Kakashi smiled. He loved the rain.
The night was chill, but his home was warm. Kakashi pottered around making tea, wearing the frilly pink apron Sakura had hated until he started wearing it. Hers, still hanging on a hook in the kitchen, was dark blue and patterned with pugs. He made one cup just the way she liked it, with an extra squeeze of honey, and set it on the windowsill, before retiring with his to the bedroom. He always let it steep a little too long. Something about the bitterness on the back of his tongue was comforting. Unlike Sakura, who could spin a cup of tea out for hours, he always gulped his down scalding hot. Setting the empty cup down by the edge of the futon, Kakashi burrowed beneath the covers. He had come to appreciate warmth and comfort more and more with every year that passed, and some thoughtful member of the cleaning staff had placed hot irons in the bed to warm it for him. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes. Rain drummed hard on the roof, but the volume did not keep him awake. Rather, it lulled him with a steady rhythm he imagined he could still hear after sleep had claimed him.
He was not sure precisely when the transition occurred, but one moment he was still vaguely awake, wrapped in the warm cocoon, then he was asleep, the echo of the rain thrumming in his mind; then, his body was stiller than it had ever been, and the rain had stopped. Kakashi blinked. And yet, the ceiling of his bedroom did not appear before him, nor was he aware of the physical sensation, only a feeling of lightness, and the sense that everything was very white. He turned, suddenly aware that he was on his feet. He was also aware that he was free of the stiffness and subtle pain that had followed him for years; that his limbs felt straight and strong, that his vision was clear and unclouded. And in the field of that vision there appeared a figure he had not dared to hope for. Slowly, from a swirling cloud of pink petals, Sakura materialized. She was young and strong, looking just as she had at twenty-five, that day by the village gates. Her smile was as broad as ever he had seen it, and in the jade reflection of her eyes, he saw all the wisdom and memories of their lifetime together. Kakashi breathed a sigh of relief and understanding, and returned the smile. He reached out to her, and she took him by the hand as he spoke,
“Take me somewhere new.”