Warning: Mentions of Anxiety attacks, nothing graphic so I hope it doesn't make anyone uncomfortable.

Note: I've reread this piece so many times I literally can't tell if it's good or not anymore. Lemme know if it's repetitive, boring or anything...

Beta'd by the lovely Kakashisgf.

A/N: I went back and split this chapter in two. My beta and I agreed that the structure of my story would look better with smaller chapters than longer ones. That's good news for you because it means faster updates. I still think it'll be 25-30K in total.

EDIT (19/3/2019): My beta and I are going through the story and fixing mistakes we've previously missed.

I - Back and Forth

It was within Kakashi's nature to appear apathetic and aloof-it was a coping mechanism, a shield. He'd been hurt, had lost and lost and lost and fought and died and he'd swear on his mother's grave that there wasn't a piece of him left that hadn't cracked and shattered and been rebuilt only to shatter again.

But they were shinobi, born and raised to wade in the gruesome and the ugly and remain intact to do it a hundred times over, a thousand times if need be. Until one day they laid down their lives in service-and they were expected to do it proudly, unfalteringly, because what was more important, more honourable, than dying for one's village and ideals?

He wanted to scoff. To tell them to stuff that shit where it belongs, but Kakashi, the son of the White Fang, the Copy Ninja, the best Jounin of Konohagakure, had known nothing but war since he was born, had been chasing his death since the day he'd learned to walk. He'd been conditioned to think only for Konoha, to fight for Konoha and to die for Konoha, the village that took everything away from him and expected him to give more.

When they'd driven his father to death, when they'd shunned him for the things he'd never done, when they'd let Naruto grow up eating scraps even when Minato-sensei had given his life to protect them-he'd thought he could never learn to love Konoha the way he ought to.

But, as he gazed down at the white knuckled grip on his hand, at the death and blood and ruins around him, heard the terror and the rage in the distance, saw as everyone, the young and the old fought to their last breath to protect-well, he now knew they didn't do it for Konoha, or for their village or for their ideals. They did it for what those represented. For home, for family, for the people they loved.

And Kakashi, for how much he'd lost, still had people to fight for. Someone very important-perhaps the most important-to fight for. For her, he would fight for their village like he loved it.

Sakura let out a tremulous breath. She was covered with gore and sweat and she smelled like adrenaline and smoke and fear, but her eyes never lost their fire of determination, never wavered in the face of death and pain. Kakashi thought she'd never looked more beautiful than in that second, when she turned to meet his eyes, hers a fierce, unyielding emerald like she was set to burn the whole world down to ashes, and he knew then that she'd die for him just like he'd die for her.

"Kakashi." She turned, twisted to face him even when the tension lining her body seemed strong enough to shatter her bones. There was a brief lull in the fight, a moment of much needed reprieve for his aching body and heaving lungs, a moment in which the world was suspended on edge, and everything was silent and heavy in preparation for the next storm. Sakura's touch on his face brought him back, anchored him-he knew it was dangerous how every part of him readily discarded all their surroundings until he was only and vividly aware of her and every tenacious breath her body drew in.

She drew him closer to her, her forehead pressing against his, and he wanted so badly to melt into her like so many times before, wished desperately he hadn't taken their moments for granted. She took another breath, measured and heavy, like she was drawing strength and conviction from the contact between them. "I'm going to do something crazy."

He searched her eyes for the meaning of that, wishing he could trust her but knowing that his fear of losing her would always overpower every rational thought that had ever crossed his mind. It made his heart sink, heavy and burning like coal in his lungs-crazy never led anywhere good, not in this world.

The diamond on her forehead unleashed, he could feel it slithering across her skin-across his skin, wrapping around him, too. And suddenly it was like he could breathe again, like every gulp he took in wasn't the one keeping him alive but the one anchoring him to earth. It filled him with a surge of power that seemed to seep down to his tired bones, and it was thrilling, intoxicating, like life being pushed back into his body.

Kakashi's heart began racing in earnest, and he rasped out, "Sakura, what are you doing?"

Multiple characters surfaced on her skin, vivid and glowing an eerie green, and if he thought he could breathe, he was wrong, he couldn't. Kakashi had been in many situations in his life when he'd been scared-terrified-but he had never acutely tasted fear on his tongue like he did now, when he wasn't sure if Sakura would live or die or what kind of crazy she was attempting.

"I'm going to get us out of here, you just hold on tight," she promised, a fervent, hoarse whisper murmured against his masked lips just as the world exploded in blinding light and he lost consciousness.

...

A steady, beeping sound pulsed somewhere far away, like the rhythm of a heart. The more Kakashi focused on it, the more he became gradually aware of other sounds. The shuffling of papers somewhere far away, the soft breathing of someone nearby, the sting of a needle in his arm.

He was lying on something soft and clinical, the bland smell of hospital deep in his nose. Kakashi shifted uneasily, feeling returning to his limbs. A migraine pulsed readily behind his shut eyelids, throbbing away like there was no tomorrow. He ached like he'd been launched from the peak of a mountain face-first into the dirt and left there for a few hours.

A groan threatened to escape his lips as he became acutely aware of the crippling tension residing in his bones and he opened his eyes to be met by bright white. Holy mother of- he winced at the light, wondering where the heck he was.

It was entirely possible that he'd been captured by an enemy and was now an experiment of some mad scientist-possibly Orochimaru himself-and that was not a comforting thought at all. Except, as Kakashi scanned his surroundings, he discovered he was in Konoha's Grand Hospital. Which should be impossible seeing as it was the first place to go down, their enemy trying to cut off their medical support.

"Kakashi," murmured a quiet feminine voice from beside him. He'd know that voice anywhere-his head snapped in its direction and he instantly lost all the air in his lungs.

Her bright, bubblegum hair was piled in a messy bun atop her head with a few stray strands framing her face, her eyes a wide, brilliant shade of emerald. She had a small graceful nose and delicate, plumped lips. She also didn't look a day over seventeen.

"S-Sakura?" he croaked in a broken whisper, his throat painfully raw. He resisted the impulse to cough, fearing that the pain would be unbearable.

She shushed him, leaning closer, her lean fingers brushing gently through his hair. She moved damp silver strands off his forehead, her thumb briefly tracing his brow. "We made it."

At his confused look, she elaborated, a small smile twitching her lips. "We're ... back in time ... but in a different reality I suppose, seeing as you're the same age as me."

Kakashi's eyes widened in alarm, his brain cataloguing every sensation in his body to spot the anomaly. He forced his arms up despite the pain, bringing them closer to his face. They were shorter, very pale and lacking some of the scars he possessed. His palms weren't as calloused, his fingers leaner.

Sakura's fingers wrapped around one of his wrists and gently lowered it back onto the mattress. "I know it's crazy. And I'll tell you more about it later ... but there's something else you need to know first ..."

Kakashi, still reeling from what she'd told him, could only hold his breath and stare at her.

"Your father is alive."

...

It was an otherworldly experience when he walked the streets of Konoha again. The air was light and fresh, lacking the scent of smoke and charred wood. Laughter and chatter replaced the sounds of agony and fear. People bustled about like overly enthusiastic swarms of bees getting to work, like tomorrow was for granted and there was no rush, no imminent death.

He had escaped the hospital even when he knew it'd get him in trouble with Sakura. But he needed some time-proof-to accept that this was real. A lot of people who had been dead for a long, long time were alive in this world.

Minato sensei, his teammates … his father.

An irrational, impulsive part of him he thought he'd long since buried wanted to tear the village down searching for them. And another part of him was, well, terrified, but that was a given. Mostly, he was numb with disbelief, his limbs heavy with exhaustion.

He let his legs carry him somewhere familiar because as beautiful and unbelievable as this bright reality was, it was too much for his senses. He'd been living and breathing war for years now; he'd nearly forgotten what it was like to walk without the threat of death at every corner.

When Sakura found him in the Yondaime's ear, she didn't try to kill him like she usually might when she'd hunt him down after he'd escaped the hospital. Instead, she settled in the space next to him, her head pillowing comfortably against his shoulder. Her head of pink tickled his chin but he buried his face in it anyway, inhaling her familiar scent. She smelled wonderfully of water, spring and sunshine, comforting and deeply ingrained in his memory. It made the tension leave his shoulders instantly.

His arm moved of its own accord, wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her closer to his chest where she proceeded to bury her face in his neck and inhale him just as deeply.

"How?" he finally asked, when he was sure his voice wouldn't crack under the weight of his emotions.

"Forbidden scroll. Serum," she responded in short. "Something only medics of my caliber can hope to concoct ... I wasn't counting on it though until Naruto..."

She seemed unable to finish that sentence, her breath hitching quietly. His hold on her tightened, as if he could protect her from her pain through physical contact.

"Anyway," she cleared her throat, voice still thick, "I'm … on a team. With the Naruto and Sasuke of this world and ... Hatake-sensei."

Kakashi was confused for the whole of three seconds before he startled so profoundly, his knee jerked up and Sakura's warm palm dropped on it and gently pressed it down, "It seems in whichever world I am, I'm meant to have a Hatake teach me."

"... Have you met him?" he rasped, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Yes," Sakura replied faintly, and he felt the ghost of her smile against his skin "He looks so much like you it's kinda scary. But he's ... more laid-back. Slightly less strict. Has a better fashion sense too."

The last one held a teasing lilt, and Kakashi's throat constricted. He pressed his face against her hair and took another trembling breath. "Thank you," he murmured with thick emotion, wrapping his other arm around her in a tight embrace.

Her smile widened, like the flutter of a butterfly over his chin as she tilted her head back and pressed a small kiss there, her palm cupping his cheek. "There isn't a thing I wouldn't do for you, Kakashi."

...

Kakashi chewed slowly, deliberately, his eyes fixed on his plate. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever felt so tense, so volatile. He'd quickly understood that joint lunches between his team and Sakumo's team were a common, normal occurrence.

It was hard, the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, to open the front door of their traditional house once again and walk in to be greeted by his dad. Sakumo, who had the kindest smile and the warmest aura. Sakumo, who'd once been the centre of his life, who'd been the first trainwreck of many to follow that had shaped Kakashi into the broken, desperate man he was today.

It was like seeing a ghost except when he blinked, Sakumo didn't disappear, unlike when he was six, returning home from a mission and for a split second he'd see the image of his father bathed in the sunbeams streaming through the window, smiling at him. Sakumo would then open his mouth, and Kakashi could swear he'd almost hear the words, and his eyes would burn from the strain, but when he inevitably blinked, Sakumo was gone, and the sunlight didn't seem very warm and comforting anymore.

Everytime, Kakashi would be left with the word 'why' burning in his throat like lava, unanswered and plaguing him. Had he not been enough? Had Sakumo not cared enough about him to stay?

Kakashi didn't want the answers to those questions anymore, but of late, every time he blinked and his dad didn't disappear, the broken child buried in the depths of him would fight to claw its way out, desperate to know. And Kakashi would clamp his mouth shut and breathe because this Sakumo didn't know.

He inhaled and exhaled, slow and measured. Anxiety sat in his chest like cement, and he could barely breathe around each bite he took to maintain the pretense of normalcy. He could feel Sakura's eyes on him, could almost sense her worry from across the table, and he wished he'd had the foresight to sit next to her.

He saw less of her these days than he was comfortable with, as they no longer lived together. In another world, she wrapped around him every night like his favourite blanket, keeping the nightmares away. And now, with the glaring absence of her warmth by his side, he'd never felt more alone. It was a very irrational, nonsensical experience that despite getting back everything he'd lost, everything he'd wished for, it was Sakura who filled his thoughts.

And all of this-the chatter, the happiness, the sickeningly false sense of peace that shrouded his house and its occupants-it was grating on his weary nerves. It felt as if it would all burst into stardust at the gentlest of touches, that this illusion might collapse and invert on itself any second.

"Oi, Ka-ka-shii," Obito growled, startling Kakashi out of his thoughts. He looked up to find the Uchiha scowling at him, clearly irritated. Naruto by his side was struggling to swallow down his laughter. Seeing those two personalities side by side was disorienting. "I asked if you're ready to get your ass kicked this time."

Kakashi stared at him, uncomprehending. "I'm … sorry?"

"Oh my god Obito, you broke him," Sasuke snorted, dark eyes holding a hint of humour and lacking all the malice typically associated with his character.

"In training, baka," Obito sneered, pointing a challenging finger at him. "I'm kicking your ass this time."

Feeling oddly out of place, Kakashi shrugged uncomfortably and tried to recall how he might've responded to such taunt at this age. "Good luck."

It seemed to be the correct response, for Obito jumped out of his seat and was proclaiming to the world that he'd wipe training ground three with Kakashi's face, everything be damned.

Kakashi had never been particularly claustrophobic, but the atmosphere of the room was leaning on too heavy for him to handle much longer, and he was sure if any of them paused to pay attention, they'd notice he was barely able to breathe under the weight in his chest.

"Excuse me," he choked out, when he was all but gulping at air through his mask, the legs of his chair scraping audibly across the ground.

He was out of the door before anyone could ask what was wrong with him, his feet crossing the backyard rapidly until he arrived at a familiar lake. He stopped to rip his mask off and suck in lungfuls with the desperation of a man who had been drowning and had finally broken through the surface.

Kakashi collapsed at the edge of the dock, drawing one knee to his chest and pressed his forehead against it as he focused on regulating his breathing.

Not long after, he heard approaching footsteps accompanied by a chakra that was cool and fluid like the rivers in spring. Sakura lowered herself in the space beside him, eyes ahead as she, too, drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. "Are you okay?"

When he didn't answer, she tilted her head in his direction so that her cheek rested on her knee. "Is it your anxiety again?"

Kakashi managed a nod, chest too tight for much else.

Sakura shuffled closer to him, a green aura engulfing her palm. She gently pressed it to his back, forcing it bone deep. He felt his body relax at the careful, soothing ministrations of her chakra, and his heartbeat slowed down soon after so that he could breathe again.

He wanted so badly to lean into her, but he was afraid someone would see or appear just in time to witness that what he felt for this woman ran so deep, made up such a significant part of his person and purpose, that it couldn't be concealed. And in this reality, those feelings, the connection between them, it was never meant to be there.

"There," she said quietly when she was done, her hand squeezing his shoulder before it withdrew to her side, "all good now."

They sat in silence, watching the calm lake that reflected the setting sun in the horizon, taking on a beautiful, deep orange hue. It was peaceful, warm like the presence next to him, and Kakashi allowed himself to fully relax for the first time in a week. "I've missed you."

The confession was murmured quietly, the cool breeze carrying it to her. Sakura smiled, secret and shy, and it was so endearing on her younger face. "Yeah? I've missed you too."

They shared a brief smile, and Kakashi was about to lean in and kiss her, witnesses be damned, when a voice called for them. Kakashi let out a soft curse and stood abruptly, tugging his mask back in place before he turned to face Naruto. "I'm coming," he groused, hoping Naruto didn't sense what had been about to transpire in the atmosphere.

"What happened back there?" Naruto frowned, thumb pointing in the direction of the house as Kakashi jogged closer to him, completely oblivious to the fact that he'd nearly caught Kakashi and Sakura in a liplock.

"Nothing," Kakashi insisted, carrying on past Naruto without looking back at Sakura in fear the blond would read the longing Kakashi felt in his gaze. "Let's go kick Obito's ass."

...

Kakashi could feel Sakumo's eyes on him, no matter how much the older Hatake tried to be discreet. Ever attuned to his surroundings, Kakashi could sense every shift and ripple of his father's, could hear every whisper that drifted through the wind.

Whatever warranted that scutinity … well, perhaps his dad was just worried and Kakashi needn't overthink the implications of each glance. After all, he'd had a panic attack during lunch, which not only was out of character for him, but also bizarre. To an outsider, to any person oblivious to the fact that he was a time traveller, it would appear as if there were no trigger, nothing to set him off that way.

"Alright, team." Sakumo clapped his hands lightly, but the sound echoed anyway. "With Minato out on a mission, we'll take it easy and focus on hand-to-hand combat. Naruto, you'll be sparring with Obito; Sasuke, you're with Rin. That leaves you two."

Kakashi blinked and made sure his face remained impassive. Why would his dad pair him with Sakura?

Sasuke made a disgruntled sound, displeased to have gotten paired with Rin. Kakashi took some pleasure watching her get so offended as to land a solid hit on Sasuke's face and send him rolling backward like a ragdoll.

Sakura snorted from beside him, and he echoed the sound, albeit quieter and more reservedly. "Shall we?"

Kakashi sighed and then took in a steadying breath. "Yeah." And then, to get himself pumped up for the upcoming spar and hoping this would drag him out of his slump, he smirked with challenge. "Let's see if you've grown rusty in my absence."

As expected, Sakura's eyebrows quirked, unperturbed by his jab, and cracked her knuckles ominously. "Bring it on, Hatake."

She came at him with a speed that almost matched his famed one, but not quite. No one ever beat Kakashi when it came to speed. The silver-haired ninja nimbly side-stepped the attack and knocked her elbow aside, veering her off track, his hand already coming down to hit the back of her neck in a blow that would end the match.

The hit never connected, of course. Sakura ducked and rolled onto the ground, out of his reach, quickly changing directions and knocking his feet from beneath him.

Instead of crashing into the ground, Kakashi back-flipped and landed neatly on his feet again.

They traded blows, lethal in their accuracy but toned down in strength to avoid fatal injuries. They danced and twirled around each other in a flurry of kicks and ridiculous acrobatic moves that had the both of them snorting in amusement. It was familiar and welcome and so in tune, twisting and turning around each other like magnets.

It was obvious to anyone with an eye for detail that these were two bodies accustomed and attuned to each other on a very primal level. They moved like water, like waves, crashing and twisting and bending and wrapping around each other in a way that spoke of years of practice, of battles fought and won back to back, of intimate knowledge of each other's strengths and weaknesses, and it took Sakumo's breath away to watch them fight like their bodies were made of the same matter, like their souls were a dividend of one, like neither of them knew how to breathe without the other.

Each move was deliberate, calculated, each glance meaningful, each smile loaded with secrets, and for once he felt like an outsider, like he was violating something sacred and private.

Feeling discombobulated with the strange emotion, Sakumo looked away. Because Kakashi moved around Sakura like she held his sun, earth and moon, and he craved nothing but to be crushed beneath it all.

...

What ended the match was Kakashi catching Sakura's ankle in his palm (which sent a spike of pain up his arm) and flipping her over, pinning her to the ground. They proceeded then to flip each other over and over again, bodies twisting together in an intimate tug and drag, legs tangling. They were both dirty now, sweaty and out of breath, and there was sand lodged in very uncomfortable places, alongside a few bleeding gashes littering their arms.

Finally, they both had each other in a choke hold, Sakura beneath him, pinned to the ground by his body, her every curve pressed deliciously against his, her eyes fierce and wild with something his body recognised on a very primal level, and he was drunk on the feeling of her, on the adrenalin of battle, on the sight of her lips inches away.

"Do you concede?" they demanded at the same time, which caused the both of them to smile. Her pretty pink lips twitching up at the corners, her flushed cheeks complementing the sight.

"Tie?" Sakura suggested, peering into his dark, dark eyes, and he wondered if she could read the desperation he felt for her in that moment.

"Tie," he agreed, and reluctantly they released their hold on each other and Kakashi helped her back onto her feet.

He winced as another quiver of pain raced up his arm, and Sakura grinned triumphantly, her palm already glowing green as she pressed it to his arm. The pain immediately dulled and then disappeared.

"So ... have you grown rusty or have I grown stronger?" she hummed, working methodically on his injuries, surface wounds and light gashes.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head rather sheepishly. He'd noticed that he'd lost some of his killer agility, although he was sure no outsider would notice. "No, I've just grown younger."

Sakura huffed out a laugh. "Evidently."

"Bad look?" he bit the corner of his lip, trying to resist the helpless smile that wanted to bloom on his face and feeling thankful his dad wasn't glancing his way right now.

"Nope," Sakura immediately disagreed. "Equally charming." To which Kakashi's smile widened, his eyes creasing in a familiar motion.

"Makes me wonder though," Sakura hummed as the green glow of her hands faded and she rose on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, voice deceptively light, "if what's under your clothes changed too."

A spike of want rippled through him, fierce and all consuming, as she backed away and they locked eyes again, hers mischievous, his dark. And he ached for her, truly, in every way, beyond the cravings of his body, he ached for her.

Kakashi couldn't resist learning in to breathe in her ear in a heated whisper, "Why don't you find out?"

"Sakumo-sensei, Kakashi and Sakura-chan are being gross!" Obito's voice boomed out of nowhere, and the couple were forcefully reminded that they weren't alone. They quickly parted, putting some distance between them and turned to face a smug-looking Obito, who was covered in mud from head to toe.

Next to him, Naruto was in similar condition.

They both were staring at him and Sakura, and Kakashi felt his face heat up and was thankful for his ever present mask. He always knew it was dangerous how readily and easily he lost himself to Sakura. They were in the middle of a training session; he should've never let his guard down.

"Says the guy covered in mud," Sakura sneered in reply, although there wasn't any real heat behind the words. Obito's smile turned sheepish, and he scratched at the back of his head as awkward chuckles tumbled from his mouth.

Sakumo dropped from a nearby tree, eyes holding a hint of curiosity, "Tie?"

Sakura shrugged, "Seems like it."

Kakashi's dad looked somewhat intrigued, although he tried to conceal it. Something unknown in his dark eyes made Kakashi unfathomably uncomfortable. "Well, match is over, you are free to do as you please."

Sakura turned to look at Kakashi and said by way of question, "Yakiniku? I'm hungry."

It was a poor getaway tactic really, the subtleties of her body language spoke of the same burning need he felt in his bones, and he knew there would be no eating anytime soon, that her hunger was for him.

"Lead the way," he responded, and Obito's jaw dropped open.