A/N: The timing in this chapter goes here and there and everywhere, so be on your toes.

Disclaimer: This is, after all, Fanfiction, so, hopefully, you can draw your conclusions from that.

Thoughts

Sakura POV (First Person)

Kakashi POV(First Person)

Chapter 2- In the Dull Kunai

"Kakashi-sensei!"

You look to me, and you seem tired. Drained. You turn wearily and raise and arm slowly. You look like you have a thousand pounds dragging beneath each eye, and twice as much on your shoulders, weighing you down. You haven't slept in days. I know. Stepping in for Tsunade who had disappeared during the fight… They've found her, though. I think. It's hard on you. I know. It's even harder on me.

Seeing you like this hurts, Kakashi. "Sakura-chan," you say quietly, lifelessly, your eyes sad and dull. "How are you?" Before, when you said that, it felt like you cared. Now, it was a force of habit. What had happened, Kakashi?

It was like a part of you has died.

It feels like I have died and gone to hell.

Kakashi, have we gone to hell together?

I don't want to go to hell with you, Kakashi. I want to die and go to heaven and spend my days with you, by your side, because, I know, that in a land of fantasy, in heaven, where whatever I want comes into being, is the only place I can be your Sakura, and you can be my Kakashi.

Is that truly the only way, Kakashi?

"I'm good." I say, but I do not have to ask you how you are doing. I can see it, in you eyes.

You nod, and turn to the memorial, where you can be with those you truly love. Your heart is so full, Kakashi. I know. I know it is unfair to ask, but will there ever be room for me?

Sakura could feel their gazes boring into her as they stared unabashedly. She wanted to hide behind her hands. She wanted to turn and run. She wanted to let the ground open up beneath her and swallow her up. She opted to running to Kakashi and the safety of the dark corner where he and his friends were seated. Sure, she was now sitting with Konoha's biggest playboy and practically sitting in the lap of Konoha's resident sex god, but, Sakura had always been good at slapping away tentacles.

--Six Hours Prior--

It was impossible to escape them. Here Kakashi was, smashed between an old, rusted dumpster and a cranky, elderly cat with one grey eye and several scars marring it's storm gray coat, it's face 'masked' in black fur. It peered at him balefully at it sat, perched on an upturned trash can with an old pizza box that had become the stray cat's home. Kakashi could here them in the distance, baying for blood like hounds, pawing the ground in hopes of sniffing him out. Though the intense stench was burning into Kakashi's too-sensitive nose, it was worth it if he could just escape.

Whether it was bad karma or something else entirely, the odds were not in his favor.

There were roughly one hundred kunoichi, eager to sink their claws into Kakashi, patrolling the streets. Kakashi had managed to get his unfortunate team of young, impressionable ANBU to henge into him and run around the streets to set them off his trail. One of his ninkin (ninja dogs) accompanied each of the four ANBU carrying giant whiteboards and uniform black pens (how they managed to write without opposable thumbs, Kakashi would never know). Pakkun sat at the foot of the Hokage Monument with a four-way radio and directed them, receiving information of new proposals which he noted and wrote on the Master Tally Sheet. It was a very professional operation, run by incredibly intelligent dogs.

Angry grey clouds rushed across the sky, covering the sun in minutes as rain poured from the sky, rushing down in sheets. Kakashi's hair flopped dejectly. He had heard Kurenai and Anko complain about humidity and their hair, but they didn't know the half of it. Kakashi's hair did the craziest things. Once, he'd woken up on a hot, damp summer day with hair in the shape of a silver mushroom. It had taken several broken combs, a hair dryer, a kunai, and many, many bottles of gel to get it into its regular shape. On a good day, his hair naturally sat in its gravity-defying rat's nest, but on a bad day, anything could happen.

There was a reason why his entire house was booby trapped. If you even brush the light switch to the far left, you'll be turned into a ribbon sandwich by an army of flying kunai suspended on invisible wires; step on third step and you'll find Mrs. Watari's baby grand squashing you into a pancake; turn the door knob more than ninety degrees and a poisoned senbon well quietly find its way into your jugular. Kakashi was a cautious shinobi, especially when it came to his reputation.

Few were stupid enough to wander into his apartment. Naruto had, once, and the only thing that had saved him was the kyuubi within him and a strategically placed cart of ramen. One very important lesson was learned: Never Visit Kakashi When He Is Sick. Nothing good can come of risking you life to get into his house only to be turned away.

The grey cat mewed mournfully before slinking away into a nice, dry corner shielded from the rain by a terracotta roof. Kakashi couldn't risk movement. It was far too dangerous, and Kakashi wasn't keen on seeing Obito quite so soon.

It seemed that he would be there for a while.

--Thirty Days Prior--

The war was over, and it was eerily quiet in Konoha. There had been morning but, eventually, life must go on. The chunin exams had come and gone, and, finally, Sasuke was promoted from genin to chunin. It had been kind of sad, though. Sasuke had literally held one boy at arm's length as he struggled to swing at the older shinobi who was a head and shoulders taller than him. Sasuke had soon put the boy out of his misery and discreetly pressed a pressure point. Sasuke had passed without a hitch, Naruto, Sakura, and even Kakashi cheering him on (though Kakashi hadn't been quite as verbal as his younger teammates).

Naruto had knuckled down and taken the jounin exams, passing easily, though, before he could let it get to his head, Kakashi reminded him (quite brutally) at an afternoon training session that he could still kick his butt, Sakura's butt, and Sasuke's butt simultaneously in a fair battle (sans kyuubis and curse seals). They all collapsed tiredly in the grass, Kakashi, a bit more dignified, took a seat in a tree and cracked open Icha Icha Seductress. While his cute munchkins turned little soldiers turned shinobi argued and nailed each other with stray acorns and the occasional tree, he lazed about, reminiscing.

Kakashi could remember when they had been wee little shinobi-wannabes with giant egos and even bigger foreheads. They had been normal teenagers with hang ups and zits and a sense of superiority which Kakashi had been quick to stamp out (though he could do nothing about the zits. Poor, poor children). Now, they were seasoned shinobi who had fought a brutal, bloody war and come back the stronger for it. They were wise beyond their years, smart beyond their years, strong beyond their years…

"Whoa, Sakura, what's that thing growing on your face?" Slam! Crunch! Bam! Snap!

…and stupid beyond their years. Oh, were they idiots. Sakura continued pummeling the crap out of a hapless Naruto as Sasuke snickered a safe distance away, looking none the worse for wear. It seemed he had some common sense. Sakura slammed Naruto into a tree, her face flushed adorably. Kakashi smiled. But, they were cute, loveable idiots.

It's the same with kids. Kakashi mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. They're annoying and get under your skin, but they're so cute you can't throw them away. Suddenly, something very orange and very loud hit him in the stomach. Hard. These kids are lucky they're cute. Kakashi wheezed as Sakura followed it up with a kick into Naruto's family jewels, knocking the wind out of Kakashi also. The cuter they are, the more viciously annoying. Sakura was far too adorable for her own good.

Unfortunately, Kakashi knew this from personal experience.

--At the Dull Kunai--

There had been many awkward moments in Kakashi's thirty-five years of life. Every time, Kakashi had managed to remain aloof and unaffected. Hopefully, this time was no exception. Sakura had strolled in wearing an almost non-existent dress (he was sure it was Ino's) and had decided to sit right by the hapless Copy Nin. She had grabbed a chair (unfortunately, it had been previously occupied) and sidled right next to Kakashi, practically sitting In His Lap. Genma looked jealous, but Kakashi would've traded any day, because, unlike Genma, he had morals, and they went against taking his far too sexy student to bed.

Sakura's scantily clad thigh pressed against his clothed one as she leaned over him, reaching for the community pitcher of sake, and, in the process, she gave Kakashi a far too appetizing peek down her shirt. A completely unwanted peek, mind you. Kakashi tore his eyes from his student's cleavage with great difficulty, took a deep breath, and tossed back his shot of whiskey. It was going to be a long night.

"Hey, Hatake." Genma called out, waving his sake bottle drunkenly in the air. "How come Sakura won't sit in my lap, but she'll happily take a seat on you?" Though his words did not betray it, his actions did. Genma had gone beyond 'tipsy' and now was in the land of 'drunk'.

"She's not in my lap, Genma." Kakashi said patiently. The last thing he needed was to have to drag Genma's dead weight back home once he passed out. Maybe Tenzou or Raidou would comply…

"Hai, hai…" Genma looked dizzy, tipping forward tiredly.

"Tenzou?"

"But, Kakashi-senpai, last week, I…" Tenzou began. He wasn't one to turn down work, but was carrying Genma home really all that importany?

"Please?" Kakashi gave his best puppy eyes over Icha Icha.

"…fine." Tenzou had always been a sucker for puppy eyes. Always.

"Kakashi-sensei!"

I turn, and I see you, so bright, so full of life… Your smile fills me with warmth, and the weight on my shoulders doesn't seem quite so heavy. I've felt that I've been drowning for so long, Sakura, but now, I've had my first breath of air in what feels like forever. The darkness is no longer closing around on me. You are here. Your hair flickers around your face, liquid warmth, your eyes glowing with happiness.

"Sakura-chan." I say, and your name feels like honey on my tongue, a taste I never want to give up. "How are you?"

You smile. "I'm good," You say simply, looking up at me with warmth tinged with worry. You study me. I've lost weight, I know. I can imagine you reprimanding me. "You were skinny enough as it was," you'd say, eyes alight with conviction. "Don't you dare starve yourself to death, Hatake Kakashi!"

I nod, and I turn, pushing my hands into my pockets, because I feel suddenly cold as I turn from you. I head to the memorial, the one place that I know you won't join me.

I run from you, Sakura. I fear you, because you make me want to reach out and feel. I feel my heart clench whenever I see you sad, and I feel my soul soar when you smile. You have total control over me, Sakura, and it scares the shit out of me. I would confess, I could confess, but I won't. You deserve better, Sakura. You deserve someone bright and full of life, like you. You deserve someone who still knows how to smile and to laugh, someone who deserves you.

But, there is no man that deserves you.

And, if there is, he definitely isn't me.