Liability | By : ersatzbeta Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kakashi/Sasuke Views: 1336 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor do I make any money from writing this or any other fanfiction. |
This story is chock full of angst, and precious little else.
In strictest terms, this story might be considered an AR. Anything in canon beyond Sasuke's defection at the tender age of thirteen is irrelevant. You can just assume that he made it back to Konoha somehow, though not entirely safe and sound... Sasuke is probably somwhere in the neighborhood of twenty years old. He and Kakashi live together and have carved out a relationship for themselves somewhere along the way.
Anyway, I'm always eager to hear what you, the readers, think. Leave a review, please. (Or not. I understand the whole lurker thing.) Concrit happily taken! ^_^
Kakashi comes in the door, worn and dirty from a mission. He hates bodyguard duty, hates it worse than his brief stint as desk jockey for the Hokage. He hates it more than instructing genin. He hates it more than the nasty little one-man assassination jobs that crop up every so often. The assassinations give Kakashi nightmares, paperwork is a tedious waste of his skills, and the genin. Well. They’re rotten little proto-ninja, most of whom will be killed in their first five years of service. He doesn’t want to know any of them, doesn’t want the obligation of mourning another team.
But body-guarding is the worst. It isn’t right for ninja to be in the open. It makes his skin crawl that he and his charges are such visible targets. This time, though…
Kakashi toes off his sandals and strips out of his dirty clothes, not bothering to move from the entryway. His uniform is covered in slime and mud, both dried and fresh. He takes off his hitai-ate and drops it into the pile of laundry. His mask comes off last, reluctantly, but it too is filthy.
Getting chased into--and through--a swamp was no picnic. Worse, his client had been a groper. While Kakashi had been doing his job, the Daimyo’s ancient, wrinkly, valuable and important aunt had been pinching. And poking. And leering. Kakashi has bruises. Lots of bruises. He twists around and looks himself over. The bruises, concentrated on his hindquarters, have faded into a mess of ugly yellow-green blotches.
It wasn’t that Kakashi had minded being leered at or pinched. Not much, anyway. He had taken the blatant innuendo in stride during their travels. Half the time the old bat had been funny, though he hadn’t dared to encourage her. He would have willingly suffered through it had it occurred at any time other than the middle of an engagement with the enemy….in a swamp. Amazing how she had managed to goose him during a battle where she should be hiding and Kakashi, by all rights, should have been completely focused and, probably, the most alert and aware person there. But any time he’d gotten within thirty yards of the party--hunkered in a miserable huddle in the most protective cover the swamp had to offer--there she was, claw-like hands in pincer formation and eyes twinkling amidst her wrinkles.
But, he has made it home, and here he is, smelly, tired, and bruised from amorous advances the likes of which he hopes never to encounter again. Kakashi wants a shower, and clean clothes and maybe some food before he sleeps for however long he’ll be allowed. He senses that Sasuke is in the house, somewhere, but he decides greetings can wait until he does not give off the charmingly rustic odor of rotten swamp grass.So Kakashi takes a shower. Somewhat relaxed and dressed in a towel, he steps into the bedroom. And he stares. A lot. Sasuke doesn’t often surprise him, but this is unexpected in the extreme. He feels his jaw dropping, has a hundred half-formed questions trying to shoot out of his mouth. He doesn’t say anything. There, on his bed, where there should be blankets and pillows, and possibly Sasuke in some state of undress, well…There are still blankets and pillows, and Sasuke is there too, regrettably not naked. But. It’s wrong. It is wrong on so many levels. There is a basket in the middle of the bed, and Sasuke hovers over it. The basket is shallow, vaguely rectangular. It is lined with a towel and there are kittens in it. Kittens. Baby kittens whose eyes are barely open.
Kakashi sits down at the foot of the bed.
“Sasuke,” he says.
Sasuke looks up briefly. A hint of pink creeps into his cheeks. He hunches down again.
Kakashi thinks of all the possible things he could say. He could yell, demand Sasuke get rid of them. He could choose to ignore the kittens’ very existences. He prepares to deliver a speech on why ninjas make bad pet owners, but what comes out is:
“Did you name them?”
Sasuke looks as surprised as Kakashi feels.
“No,” says Sasuke. “I was waiting for you to come back.”
Kakashi reads between the lines.
“Well,” he says. “I’m not saying yes. We can’t keep all of them. But…”
He watches Sasuke scoot a little closer to the basket, his shoulder tense. Sasuke is all but baring his teeth at him. His body language suggests Kakashi shouldn’t come too close.
The hairs on the back of Kakashi’s neck rise.
“Let me see them,” Kakashi says. “And we can choose one to keep. Maybe.”
He keeps his gestures small, crimps his spine a little in an effort to seem smaller and less threatening.
Sasuke frowns but makes no move to stop him from edging forward. Kakashi balances on the edge of the bed and leans in over the basket. His heart sinks. He glances at Sasuke, sees how anxious he is, and the breath catches in his lungs. His insides twist.
“Sasuke, they’re a little…quiet,” Kakashi says.
“They’re very well behaved,” says Sasuke. “I think they’re napping right now. We shouldn’t wake them.”
Sasuke keeps his eyes on the basket.
Kakashi pets one, running his index finger from the crown of the tiny head to the base of its stubby tail. It is white and small. So very small. He turns away from the basket and instead tries to engage Sasuke in conversation.
“How did you get them? And when?” says Kakashi.
He wants to ask if they have been well behaved all along, but he doesn‘t dare. And it doesn’t matter, in the end. Kakashi feels sick that his first instinct is that it’s Sasuke’s fault.
“They were in a box in an alley,” Sasuke says. Then shrugs. “I don’t know, two or three days ago? Not long after you left.”
Kakashi has been gone for eight days.
Sasuke fusses with the towel in the basket, then settles and re-settles the collar of his shirt.
Kakashi forces himself to sit still. He feels hollow watching him perform the same motions over and over. At last, he reaches out and catches Sasuke’s wrist. He pulls his hand away from his shirt.
“Looks perfect, Sasuke,” he says.
Sasuke looks into his eyes and really sees him for the first time since he entered the room. He flushes and alights from the bed, whisking the basket of kittens off it. He carefully deposits it on the floor, out of the way but in a patch of sun. He ducks his head when Kakashi gives him a look.
“Gotta keep them warm,” he says. “They like being warm.”
Sasuke freezes for a moment, eyebrows knitted together and lips pulled downward. Kakashi sees the gears in his head stutter and struggle. His face smoothes out, and now a faint smile graces it as he turns toward Kakashi.
“Welcome home,” he says. “Mission wasn’t too bad?”
Sasuke stretches gracefully over the bed. Feline.
“It was smelly,” says Kakashi.
He is glad the basket is no longer sitting on the bedspread. He takes off his towel and lays it on the bed. Sasuke watches him, eyes half-closed. He turns around, slowly, displays his bruises. The breath Sasuke sucks in is gratifying.
“What happened?” he says.
Sasuke traces his hands over the damage. He is close enough that Kakashi feels his breath on the small of his back. Sasuke’s fingers move over him, brushing his rear and the backs of his thighs before sweeping up again and following the line of his spine.
“One of the clients was a little hands-on,” Kakashi says, and he is glad to hear that breathy half-laugh from behind him.
It is good to be home. He missed Sasuke and he’s glad Sasuke is here, now. But Kakashi can see the basket on the floor, and the pleasure of Sasuke’s hands eludes him. He walks over to the bureau and pulls out a fresh shirt and a pair of boxers. He puts them on and listens to Sasuke rolling over on the bed. When he turns around again, Sasuke is on his side of the mattress, mouth set in a frown. Kakashi sighs.
“What is it?” he says. “If it’s about just now, I’ll be happy to oblige you later, after I rest a while.”
Sasuke colors pink across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
“No, it’s not that,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s just…did you really mean it? That we could keep one, I mean.”
Sasuke is pointedly not looking at the basket.
“Well,” says Kakashi. “If you have one here, you won’t be so likely to roam the streets looking for strays, right? It would keep you company when I’m gone.”
Kakashi can’t stop the wince. He didn’t mean it like that.
“On missions,” he says. It’s a lame, too-late cover-up. But Sasuke doesn’t seem to notice.
“And you’d have to do all the care-taking of it,” says Kakashi.
Sasuke pulls him down onto the bed. He presses his lips against Kakashi’s. Though he does not smile, his happiness leaks from his eyes and is not quite masked in his movements.
“Which one do you want?” says Sasuke. “You’ve had a look at them now.”
“Not the white one,” Kakashi says.
Sasuke cocks his head, the question written on his face, and Kakashi blusters.
“White fur on dark clothing, you know?”
It sounds weak to his ears, but Sasuke accepts it at face value.
“Do you have a favorite?” says Kakashi. “If it’s going to be yours, you should pick it, not me.”
The way Sasuke looks at him tells him everything. Kakashi smiles a paper-thin smile.
“What did you name it?”
“It’s the brown one. Kuri.”
“Kuri, huh?”
It’s a good name, considering the kind of companionship Sasuke would want from it. Though how Sasuke saw a kitten and thought horse chestnut is beyond him. Kakashi feels hollow. He feels guilty for lying, for telling Sasuke he can keep the kitten. He’ll find a way to make it right, somehow. He promises himself.
“Right then,” says Kakashi. “Kuri it is. Now how about some dinner?”
When Kakashi waves in the direction of the kitchen, Sasuke stares at him like he’s out of his mind.
“What?” says Kakashi. “I’m starving and tired.”
“I can’t cook, remember?” says Sasuke. “Did your client pinch the brains out of you too?”
Kakashi shrugs.
“Hard to tell. Make me a sandwich or something before I fall asleep.”
Kakashi shoos Sasuke out of the bed. Sasuke gives him one more look and, apparently, decides Kakashi really is that tired. He goes, and Kakashi can hear him rummaging in the kitchen through the walls. He keeps one eye on the door as he scrambles to sort through the contents of his nightstand drawer. He comes up with a prescription bottle, squints at the label, and smiles grimly to himself. He pops the top and takes out two tablets, palming them. He sticks the bottle back in the drawer and slides it closed just as Sasuke re-enters the room.
“What were you looking for?” says Sasuke.
He is holding a plate with two sandwiches in his right hand and, Kakashi is amused to see, two glasses of milk are in his left.
“Oh,” Kakashi says. “Seeing if I’d stuck some Icha Icha in there. No luck though. I guess you’ll have to entertain me tonight.”
Sasuke snorts.
“I made you a sandwich because you were too tired to get up,” he says.
“But I never said I was too tired to get it up,” says Kakashi, reaching for the sandwich and a glass of milk.
“That was bad, even for you,” says Sasuke. “Eat your sandwich and shut up.”
Kakashi drops the pills into the glass while Sasuke bites into his sandwich. He nudges Sasuke.
“Switch glasses with me,” says Kakashi. “I don’t like this one.”
Sasuke eyes the identical glasses. He scowls at Kakashi.
“What?” Kakashi says. “I don’t like it. It’s not…”
He scrambles for a reason to reject it.
“It’s not clear enough,” he says. “It’s kind of blue-ish.”
Kakashi holds his glass up to Sasuke’s face. Sasuke lets out an exasperated breath and examines the glasses. At length, he hands over his. He snatches the rejected glass away.
“Whatever,” he says.
He digs into his sandwich, but he glances at Kakashi every few bites and the corners of his mouth lift as he swigs his milk. Kakashi picks at his sandwich and waits for the drugs to take hold of Sasuke.
It happens quickly, catching him three bites from the end of his sandwich. Sasuke yawns once, twice, three times. He blinks and rubs his eyes.
“Your tiredness is catching,” he says.
He lays himself out on the bed again.
“You going to sleep in you clothes?” Kakashi says. “You’ll wake up all wrinkled.”
Sasuke yawns again before replying.
“I’m too tired to care. Been up for days, watching the kittens…”
Sasuke offers one hand to Kakashi.
“If you‘re that bothered,” he says, “you can undress me.”
As Sasuke drowses, half awake, Kakashi gently disrobes him. First the shirt, shifting him from side to side to get the sleeves off his arms and over his shoulders. Then, he unbuttons and unzips the pants. Kakashi cradles Sasuke’s leg in one arm, using the other to take care of the pants leg. Then, he tugs on the other cuff and the rest of the pants slide off Sasuke. Kakashi takes Sasuke’s socks off last, rolling them off the high arches of his feet.
“G'night,” says Sasuke.
Kakashi knows there’s a thank you in there somewhere. Sasuke’s breathing evens out and Kakashi senses that this breathing will lead to snoring in a few minutes. He sits at the foot of the bed and waits. The afternoon sun creeps over the basket on the floor, picking out the dust motes that fall within its light. He wishes it was nighttime instead, that he couldn’t see the edge of the towel peeking over the rim. He scuffs the heel of his hand against his thigh. Kakashi takes a deep breath, forces the air into his nose and out his mouth. In and out. Easy.
Sasuke’s snore startles Kakashi off the bed. The displacement joggles the mattress, but Sasuke doesn’t react. Kakashi nudges the mattress again, deliberate in the placement of his knee against the covers. Sasuke sleeps on. Kakashi allows himself a sigh. He gets a fresh mask and a pair of pants and slips into them as noiselessly as he can, all the while keeping one eye on the sleeper. He half expects him to sit up, open his eyes, and demand to know what’s happening. Sasuke doesn’t need to know. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Kakashi picks up the basket and pads out of the bedroom. He’ll be back before Sasuke wakes. He does not look behind him.
He sets the basket on the kitchen counter. From the entryway, he snags his mission pack and roots through it in the few steps it takes for him to get from the door to the kitchen. Kakashi pulls out and unfolds a piece of grubby canvas. He eyeballs it, measures it against what’s sitting on the counter. It’s big enough. He re-folds it and drapes it over the top of the basket. Next, Kakashi finds a hank of twine in the pack. He hefts it. More than he needs really. He lays a kunai on the canvas, and the string perfectly conceals the blade when placed over it. He takes the basket off the counter and turns to leave. Kakashi hesitates before grabbing his keys. He slips into his flak jacket and settles his hitai-ate firmly over his left eye.
Kakashi locks the door behind him. He isn’t sure whether he’s keeping Sasuke in or everything else out.
It takes five minutes for him to get to the main gates. The on duty chuunin don’t even blink when he exits the village with a basket under his arm. Kakashi snorts. They probably think he’s getting a little alone time with a pornographic novel and a picnic. Anyone who really knows him knows he only does such things at lunchtime. His evenings are spent at home with Sasuke when they are both in the village.Still, the ease with which he slips unnoticed into the forest is a relief. He doesn’t want anyone looking at him too closely, asking too many questions he can’t answer. Even his best explanation is…not easy to understand. He feels awful for doing this, but he loves Sasuke. He has to protect him. As he runs far under the trees, his heart is a solid lump sitting in his chest, despite its frantic beating. The breath saws through his midsection. He runs himself into thoughtlessness.
Kakashi slows when he comes across a third stream deep in the woods. It’s far enough off the beaten path, as it were, that it probably doesn’t see a lot of people. He sees no signs that anyone, ninja or not, has been here in a while. There are a few impressions of wildlife tracks at the edge of the water: deer and raccoon mostly. Not Nara deer, though. He’s nowhere near where their herds are. And there’s no sign of Inuzuka dogs, either. He’d know their pug marks anywhere.He walks along the bank of the stream a little ways, following a game trail. The path starts to veer off from the water and Kakashi threads himself between some large clumps of brambles in an effort to get back to the bank. The outstretched thorns catch his clothing. He pulls free carefully, the basket held high above his head. Kakashi moves through the grasses and mosses, flinching when he startles a pair of mourning doves. They are careless flyers and the noise they make, the flapping and cooing and crashing into the brush again, is deafening. Kakashi leans against an old hornbeam for a moment. He is surprised to find he is sweating. His hands are slick on the reeds of the basket. He tests his grip and, certain it won’t suddenly slip free, walks a few feet ahead to the water.
The stream is quiet and cool here, shaded by hundreds of trees’ crowns massed high between the banks. It is deep, too, he finds as he stabs a branch down into the water at the bank. Better than three feet. He sets the basket on a hillock of velvety moss beside him. Kakashi stretches out on his belly, lets his head and shoulders and arms dangle out over the water. He cranes his neck looking at the underside of the edge. The stream has carved away most of the dirt in this spot, leaving an overhang. He sticks his arm in the water to feel the current.
Surprisingly, the water doesn’t tug very hard. Kakashi gets to his knees and looks upstream. Ah. That explains it. A nearby tree, dead, had fallen at some point and is blocking off this part of the stream. Kakashi looks downstream and tracks the movement of the water. He can see where the stream has changed its direction. The forest is already starting to grow into part of the watercourse, sending out shock troops of marsh plants that creep further into the water than tree saplings might tolerate. Bad luck for the old stream, maybe, but good for what Kakashi is here to do.
He gets to his feet again, brushes grass and leaves and dirt off his front. He gets the string, canvas, and kunai out of the basket. He spreads the cloth next to the basket and over the forest floor, and he stands still for a minute, staring at it. It’s so white against all the green and brown. The emptiness of it consumes his vision bit by bit. Kakashi forces himself to turn away. The afterimage burns against his eyelids every time he blinks.
He forages near the edge of the water for rocks. Fist-sized rocks are the best. Not too little, not awkwardly large. He pitches a dozen or so into the middle of the canvas, stones clacking against each other. It reminds him of ravens’ beaks striking bone. Kakashi shudders as he rips a section of bark off a rotting log. He taps the bark against the ground and eyes the beetles that crawl away.
Kneeling on the canvas, he lays the bark on one corner. The kunai shears through the fabric around the bark and sets that not-quite rectangle adrift on the moss beneath it. Kakashi removes the bark and brushes crumbs of it off the cloth. Without getting up, he moves from the waist and smoothes the cloth over the basket’s contents. His fingers tremble and he forces the trembling into something else; he tucks the edges down and into the basket. It looks like a crude white pillow is laying there. It makes him want to vomit.
Then he reaches for the rocks. He cradles each one as he lowers it into the basket. Kakashi turns them over in his hands, searching for the best fit as he makes a rectangular layer out of the oval stones. They are the same size as the kittens, the same as a human heart. His blood runs cold, colder. He picks up a rock and sees a reddish smear on it and he almost throws it away reflexively before he realizes he’s cut his palm and can’t feel it. It’s not the stone. It’s him.
The canvas is empty of all but two stones. Kakashi moves them off to the side and hefts the basket onto that now smudged whiteness. He folds the edges of the cloth up and over, swaddling the burden in the middle. He tucks the edges in, neatly, smoothly. He takes the time to get it right. Kakashi lays the remaining two stones on top. Then, he starts to wrap the twine around the bundle. He secures it from every angle he can think of before he ties it off and cuts the end with his kunai.
Kakashi stands. He hesitates a long moment before picking up the canvas-wrapped package. It is lighter than he expects and the muscles in his arms are tense and strained for no reason. He walks to the edge of the water. It looks darker than it had before. Kakashi lifts his face to the sky. The light from between the trees is much dimmer now. It barely warms his face. He needs to go home soon, be back in bed before Sasuke wakes. He steels himself. He kneels, the basket still in hand.
Carefully, gently, he holds the bundle on the surface of the stream. The canvas darkens as it wicks the water. When it is soaked, he leans forward, lowering it into the water. He is thankful that the canvas, even when wet, does not show what it is covering. He keeps pushing the bundle down. It seems like forever under the trees.
Kakashi is numb up to his elbows before the bottom of the package grates on sand and gravel. He pauses, tries to remember how to unclench his fingers when they’re this cold. After a minute, he lets go and gets himself out of the water. He stands and doesn’t even try to brush the detritus from his clothes. Water runs down his arms. It drips off the tips of his fingers and it is instantly absorbed by the moss beneath him. His body goes slack, though he is still upright. Kakashi’s eyes are closed. His breathing is the only thing he can hear.
Eventually, Kakashi opens his eyes again. The light in the forest has faded even further. He shakes himself off and sticks the remaining ball of string into his pocket. He tucks the kunai into the waistband of his pants, and he hopes he won’t cut himself too badly while running. Kakashi stretches his legs against the log that is missing a patch of bark. He makes himself look away. He starts back home.
Kakashi shakes his head while running in the near-dark. It’s a stupid idea. He can’t possibly find a brown kitten for Sasuke. Not in the time before he wakes. Not ever. He can’t. Sasuke isn’t capable of caring for it. His heart twists in his chest and he stops for a minute. He is starting to cry and he can’t run any more. Kakashi forces himself to walk. He is dead on his feet. Sasuke will understand, eventually. And given long enough, he’ll forget he ever wanted one. But Kakashi knows that he himself will never forget. And he’ll never be able to tell Sasuke that he didn‘t bury them in the ground because he was scared Sasuke would dig them back up and bring them home again. The kittens will be completely gone soon, washed away. Kakashi sucks in a shuddering breath and keeps moving.
He is suddenly at the main gates and he breezes past the gatekeepers without a word. He is too tired and rattled to channel his chakra properly, and for the first time in a long time he botches the transport jutsu. Kakashi ends up on a balcony--someone else’s balcony--five buildings away from the apartment. He climbs down quickly, hoping no one will make a fuss. He hurries. Home is in sight.Kakashi doesn’t remember immediately that he locked the door when he left; he rattles the doorknob and puzzles for long seconds before getting his keys out. He stares at them in his hand as if he has never seen them before. He unlocks the door. It swings open on well-oiled hinges and Kakashi steps inside. He strips, adding to the pile of dirty laundry at his feet. He puts his kunai and twine back into his pack. He places his keys on the counter and heads to the bathroom.
Scrubbing harder than necessary, Kakashi showers in water a few degrees short of scalding. He lathers up twice before he’s satisfied that further washing can wait. He towels off before putting on a clean shirt and underwear. He enters the bedroom.
Kakashi lets go of a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. Sasuke is just how he left him, mostly naked on top of the covers and snoring. Kakashi eases his arms underneath Sasuke, lifting him up. The snore cuts off, but he doesn’t wake. He pulls the blankets back with his toes before laying his burden down again. He climbs in beside him. Kakashi presses up against him. He knows it’s going to be one of those nights that he can’t sleep without having Sasuke literally in his arms. If Sasuke were awake, he’d understand, even if he didn’t know the reason why.
Kakashi doesn’t know what he’ll do--what he’ll say--when Sasuke wakes up in the morning and finds the basket gone. He sighs and closes his eyes. He’s had enough lying for a lifetime, but he has to protect Sasuke. Even if it’s from himself. But he’s too tired to think up a story tonight. Kakashi forces his body to relax, though it remains wrapped around Sasuke. He’ll make it up to Sasuke. He’ll make it up to him. He will make it up. He will.
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