Miyu’s hand rises, feeling the smooth, unmarred skin of her face. The masked medic had held a green-glowing hand to her face, and after a few moments of intense itching, the scrapes and bruising had faded. They repeated the motion over her diaphragm, and the sharp ache that had been stopping her from inhaling properly dissipated quickly.
Her gaze drops to her other hand, clasped firmly in Kakashi’s as he leads her out of the Hokage tower. She doesn’t dare speak. Hasn’t dared, since the moment he appeared in the windowsill. The Daimyo had been furious. Had demanded Kakashi’s clan name and position.
Head of the Hatake clan, jounin of Konoha, and fiancé of Sugawara Miyu, he’d said, so confidently. Smiling politely behind his mask, even as he stepped up close, eye scanning the blood on her face, body angled in front of hers.
Protecting her, in more ways than one. Sure, he’s her friend. He’s Itachi’s friend, and, thinking of their all-black uniforms with their grey body armour, had once been, or still are teammates. But to do this? To draw the attention of the most powerful man in the country – Hokage aside – to offer her his protection?
“Kakashi-” she finds her voice at long last, “why-”
She cuts herself off as he squeezes her hand twice in quick succession. This conversation must wait, then. They pass through the village, and Miyu can feel eyes on them. Many civilians blatantly stare at the sight of them, hand in hand, even if he does lead by a whole step, pulling her along behind him.
She thinks about the rumours this will stir, and has the bizarre urge to laugh, wondering when Izumi and Neji will be free next.
Mostly she’s intensely glad to still be alive, hyper-aware of the feel of Kakashi’s hand in hers, of the street beneath her, and the scents of the market district. Of the winter sun on her freshly healed face, and the crisp air, and the knowledge that she will play shogi again.
Part of her is still simmering in fury, in grief, a painful mix of emotions that she’s not sure how to untangle. He had been right there. The man who had caused her such severe emotional stress for a few long months, in the flesh before her. He had killed her family, had wanted to kill her, and he was right there.
Miyu knows that if her life had been different – if she had been a ninja – that he would be dead. His position and the consequences be damned.
It’s a jarring thought, so unlike her usual careful plotting that it jolts her out of her brief reverie.
They’re in her apartment building, but they’ve passed the stairs leading up to her floor. Instead they’re in the corridor behind them that leads to the ground floor utilities offices, as well as a few storage units.
“Kakashi, what-”
He stops suddenly in the hallway and Miyu almost stumbles into his back.
“What were you to him?” his voice is low and dark. Eyeing the stiff line of his back Miyu has to think for a second about who he’s talking about.
“Who – the Daimyo? Kakashi, he tried to kill me-”
“Why?” he demands, half-turning to stare at her with his lone eye. “What were you to him? Why did he resort to-”
“You’re not making any sense,” Miyu’s voice is rising as she frantically tries to process the events of the past half hour, “I – I don’t know what you want me to say-”
He steps closer to her, tall and imposing. Her eyes drop to the shift of muscle in his bicep as he reaches for her. His fingers prompt her chin up, until she meets his gaze.
“He wanted you for himself,” Kakashi’s voice is dangerously calm, and Miyu tries to stifle the mixture of arousal and fear at the way he’s holding himself. Still, but poised – ready to blur into movement too fast for her to see.
“I-”
His thumb presses against her lips and she resists the urge to open her mouth and taste.
“He can’t have you.” Kakashi’s body is close to hers now, warm and magnetic in his proximity. Miyu only swallows as she squeezes her thighs together, hoping to alleviate the building tension between them.
“You’re mine.”
And then he surges forward, lifting her by the waist. Miyu squeaks, yukata half untying as her legs come up to wrap around his hips instinctively, her fingers curling into the collar of his vest. A desperate attempt to hold herself steady that’s derailed the moment she feels him, hot and hard and pressing right against her heat.
Her back hits the corridor wall and Miyu is hyper-aware of his hands as one trails down to the curve of her ass and the other snakes up to her neck.
His fingers press into the sides of her throat and she gasps as it sends a jolt of want straight to her centre.
“Kakashi-” she chokes on her next breath as he presses more firmly against her.
Fuck.
“Mine,” his voice is low and deep, so close to her ear that she can feel the material of his mask against her cheek. He pushes forward and a tiny, strangled sound escapes her because gods, she’s never felt so turned on so fast, fuck –
“Every time he looks at you,” his breath is tickling at her ear, even as he shifts his hips just slightly, enough to set her blood alight, “I want you to think of me.”
His fingers tighten around her throat, and with each heartbeat she can feel herself getting riled up, shit-
“K-”
Her voice dies in her throat again, because the hand on her ass is squeezing hard, and the brief jolt of pain is accompanied by electrifying pleasure that seems to jump from the very tips of his fingers to –
“Kakashi, please-”
Miyu’s not sure what does it.
It could be him pressing against her, or maybe the fingers grasping her throat. Maybe it’s the feel of his short pants at her ear, or the too-tight grip of his hand at her ass as it sends something hot, tingling, erratic – straight to her core –
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Whatever it is, it sends her sharply over the edge, feet torn from beneath her and breath stolen from her lungs.
Her sight whites out and Miyu loses her senses.
When she blinks back to the present, Kakashi still has her pressed against the wall. He’s still breathing harshly at her ear as her limbs tremble in the aftermath of whatever the fuck he just did to her.
“Breathe,” he instructs, voice low and strained.
Miyu belatedly inhales. It’s shaky and unhindered, and it’s with a mournful pang that she realises he’s removed his hand from her neck.
“I’m sorry,” his mask-clad lips brush against her ear, and she can’t supress her full body shiver at the feel of it. “We’re being watched.”
Miyu hopes he doesn’t set her down yet. Her legs don’t feel all that steady.
“I – I got carried away,” he sounds frustrated. He shifts back from her, but Miyu stops his retreat by tugging at the collar of his vest.
“Don’t,” her voice is husky, but now that she can see what little he shows of his face, she offers a shaky smile, “I – well. I don’t think I can stand right now.”
His brow furrows and he looks pained as he murmurs, “Did I hurt you?”
That startles a laugh from her, and Miyu savours the bafflement in his eye as the sound of it echoes through the corridor.
“No,” she’s breathless, flushed, still trembling from the aftermath of her climax, “I’m sure you can guess another reason I may be feeling unsteady right now.”
His grey eye darkens as his pupil dilates, and he leans in just a fraction. Her gaze lingers on the bridge of his nose, and she wonders at what Naruto had told her once.
‘Sensei is from an old clan of Konoha. The Hatake are famous for their grey hair and their link to wolves, and by extension, dogs. Kakashi-sensei specialises in tracking, and his summons reflect that. But even without them he has a super sense of smell!’
Can he… smell her?
Her gaze travels down his mask, and she curiously eyes the outline of his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” she watches as he says it, traces the slight movement of his lips, “I didn’t ask first, I-”
“It’s fine,” she says softly, dragging her gaze back up to his. “I… wasn’t expecting it. But I trust you.”
He nods, then, and gently sets her on her feet. He looks to the end of the hall as she fixes her yukata, sure of the blush on her cheeks.
“Are they still-”
“Yes,” his soft murmur cuts hers off, and once she’s sure her legs are steady enough to carry her, she reaches for his hand and leads the way out of the hallway and up the stairs.
Gods, how is she going to explain this to Itachi?
Hey, how was your day? Mine was fine, almost got murdered, but your dad and the Hokage came to the rescue. Also, I’m engaged to Kakashi now.
Oh, hell. They make it to her door and she unlocks it one-handed, tugging Kakashi into the entrance behind her. She toes her shoes off, and has just stepped up into the apartment when she hears the sliding door open.
She tenses sharply at the sight of a masked ninja, all in black – and recognises his mask from the Hokage office.
“What-”
They stride forward, lifting a hand to tear the mask from their face and –
“Itachi?”
She drops Kakashi’s hand as though it’s burnt her.
Oh, gods, she’s not ready for this conversation. Not ready at all to tell him about the hallway, fuck –
His hands, on either side of her face.
“Are you okay?” the worry bleeding into his tone is so raw and audible that her breath catches in her throat.
“I’m fine,” she assures him, “Itachi, I-”
“I’m surprised you didn’t kill the Daimyo on the spot,” Kakashi says around a yawn, “I suppose if anyone can hold you back, it’s the Fourth Hokage and the impending threat of your father’s disapproval.”
Miyu sucks in a sharp breath at that, and goes very, very still.
“I… you saw?” she sounds so small, so weak, and she hates it, gods –
“I did,” Itachi confirms, taking half a step back and levelling Kakashi with a hard stare. Her face feels too cool without his touch.
“Thank you,” his tone is clipped, “If it were anyone else, I-”
Miyu understands immediately.
“Wait,” her voice doesn’t waver, “I thought – you seemed to be fine with me marrying anyone-”
His jaw clenches, eyes dark and tumultuous. Gods, he’d been… lying?
Ninja, Miyu remembers, and something tight unravels in her chest.
“So,” she continues, voice softer now, “you’re not okay with just anyone-”
“No,” he grinds out, muscle jumping in his jaw. The sight of it sends heat straight between her legs, and she hopes desperately that her knees don’t start to tremble.
“But… if it’s Kakashi,” he shifts, meets the long grey eye of the man standing just over her shoulder, “if it’s you… I can deal with it. Only you.”
Miyu looks between them as they stare at each other in silence.
“Kakashi,” her voice breaks the tension between them, and he drops his gaze to hers. “I – I don’t understand why you did what you did, but - thank you.”
She takes a step back, and bows deeply.
“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you,” the words feel tight coming out, and she knows she needs a long, hot shower to ground herself again after feeling so out of control.
“You can start by attending my book release next week,” he says with an easy eye-crinkle, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, “speaking of, I’ve got some last minute adjustments to make. Excuse me.”
He pulls the orange book out of nowhere, walks to her couch, and falls onto it, frantically writing as he goes.
Miyu blinks at him, and then shifts her gaze back to Itachi, who is looking at her intensely. She remembers the other thing she needs to tell him about.
“Uh,” she flushes, feeling terribly inarticulate, “I – we were being followed, and Kakashi, um-”
She looks to the grey-haired man for help, but he seems absorbed in his work.
“He – I mean, I-”
Gods, she hasn’t stuttered this much since the first time Satsuki asked her if she wanted to be licked out.
“HedidthisthingandIcameagainstthewall-” she says it in one breath, progressively blushing harder, but refusing to look away from Itachi’s face. He deserves this, at least.
“Oh,” Kakashi chimes in offhandedly, “I may have accidentally used my… specialty on her.”
Itachi’s head whips around to face Kakashi, and Miyu can just make out the indignation on his face.
“Accidentally. You accidentally used the lightning jutsu on her?”
“Huh?” Miyu looks to Itachi, “You know what his specialty is?”
“Yes,” Itachi offers her a half-smile, “he’s done it to me more times than I can count. Don’t worry about it, Miyu.”
He turns back to Kakashi as though he hasn’t just shaken the foundations of her world, indignant once again, “I can’t believe you-”
“Stop acting entitled,” Kakashi waves him off, “you just want me to use it on you again.”
She watches the flush start, high on Itachi’s cheeks.
“It’s been two years, can you blame me?”
And Miyu, well. Miyu stands in between her kitchen and lounge room, looking between Itachi and Kakashi as realisation crashes over her, hard.
“You two…” her voice is faint, and she shakes her head to centre herself. “Oh gods. I’m an idiot. All this time, you two had-”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Kakashi actually looks up from his book this time, flashing her an eye-smile. “We’re ninja. You didn’t notice because there was nothing to notice.”
Privately, she remembers a conversation she overheard, back when she had first moved to Konoha. A warning, from Kakashi to Itachi, to – gods, to protect him from being hurt.
Itachi nods. “It’s been two years, Miyu. Besides, we were… rather casual.”
Kakashi at the winter festival. Kakashi attending the clan meeting. Kakashi, believing her, a civilian, and ultimately saving Itachi’s life.
The grey-haired ninja raises his brow at that. “Casual, huh. I guess you could say that.”
And suddenly, like loose pieces on a board, infuriating outliers that she could never make sense of, it all shifts into place. She doubts there was anything casual about what they were to each other.
Two years - that might - well, that probably aligns with when Itachi's health had begun to decline. Had he ended it because Kakashi would have noticed?
“I’m…” she takes a deep, calming breath, “I’m going to shower.”
And then she marches off to do just that, resolutely not thinking about Itachi and Kakashi and how – gods, how hot the thought makes her.
She’s got a lot to work through. The Daimyo, the potential threat he still poses. Being engaged to Kakashi, and the huge waves this will cause in the rumour mill. The Hokage and Uchiha Fugaku, standing their ground for an insignificant civilian, and what she now owes them in return. The hurt and the grief that today has stirred up, leaving healing wounds feeling new and raw.
Miyu steps into her shower, yukata still on, and copes.
