Notes from the Author

Hello. Before you read this, there a few things that may be helpful to you in understanding the story:

Firstly, the pairing is Kakashi/Naruto. This fanfiction obviously therefore contains yaoi, and if that makes you uncomfortable, stop reading now. There may be other side pairings as well, but KakaNaru is the main focus.

Secondly, if this story is continued it will contain sexual acts. So be warned.

Thirdly, I am from England, and therefore tend to use English grammar, spelling and terms, as opposed to American ones. We wear pants underneath our trousers. :P Most things should still be understandable, however, the school system might be unfamiliar. Just to briefly summarise, we attend secondary school, which runs through ages 11-16, then sixth-form college, which is optional, for two years. After that, we can choose to go to university. I think in high schools the quivalent of secondary and sixth-form college education are grouped together.

Fourthly, I make this stuff up and tend not to research many of the terms I use. Therefore, there are probably loads of mistakes in the medical side of this, impossible operations, completely false terminology, ect. It's my story, I can do what I like. :P

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or it's characters. I make no money from the writing of this fanfiction.

And finally: enjoy!

"Hey, Hatake! You're late again!" The exasperated Chief of Medicine marched across the ward to confront the silver-haired man, forcing him to pause in his casual stroll towards the adjoining corridor. He watched her fume for a moment before responding, the corner of his one visible eye crinkled into the suggestion of a smile.

"My apologies, Tsunade-san, you see, I was on my way to visit a patient when I saw the most fascinating-"

"God damnit, Kakashi! I've already heard that excuse at least four times this month. How do you manage to be this late every single day? It's not like you go home at night, you don't even leave the hospital... where do you disappear to every morning?!"

Kakashi's jovial expression remained fixed in place as Tsunade waited for him to explain himself. Finally she sighed and continued her rant one-sided, brandishing her clipboard wildly;

"And when will you take off that stupid mask?" she near screamed, forcing Kakashi to quickly dodge a violent clipboard-attack, "It freaks out the patients!"

Kakashi chuckled, his eye-smile turning into more of an eye-smirk.

"But Tsunade-san, I am a surgeon - I have to wear a mask," he retorted smugly. The Chief of Medicine's face flushed with frustration.

"Only when you are actually performing surgery, idiot! I don't see you hacking anybody's limbs off at this exact moment in time, so-"

Her lecture was cut short as a stretcher burst through the swinging doors, a heavy-set paramedic quickly wheeling it straight through the ward. Doctors and nurses immediately flocked around the patient, reeling off medical terms and suggestions to each other as they trotted across the floor. They remained in a huddled formation around the trolley even at their brisk pace, obscuring Kakashi's view of whoever was lying unconscious on the stretcher. Finally, the rapid conversation but wrapped up when they heard a medic bark an order to send the injured patient straight down to theatre. As the crowd of medical staff dissolved and the stretcher disappeared through the next set of doors into the corridor, the surgeon saw his cue to leave.

"Well, so sorry to cut our chit-chat sort like this, Tsunade, but it looks like that's me," he yawned, and wondered away towards the same doors the stretcher had been wheeled through. Tsunade just shook her head and resigned herself to the fact that Hatake Kakashi would never change.

Kakashi strolled leisurely towards the operating theatre, knowing from plentiful experience that he wouldn't be needed for at least ten minutes yet. Everything was always so rushed here. There was a constant pounding rhythm of hurried feet on linoleum, constant rushing of figures past the stark white walls, a constant whirring and beeping of machines that seemed to be the very heartbeat of the hospital. Kakashi was determined to take his time.

He considered himself a lazy person; the constant hustling, bustling panic of the place didn't suit him. But even with the ever present tension and frantic, dangerous atmosphere, this was home. He had found a way to belong. Despite his constant cheerful demeanour, he had successfully distanced himself from the rest of the world, preferring to let the rapid flow of life pass him by unaffected. It was just easier that way. He didn't feel the constant threat of death that drove some of the staff to near insanity. He didn't become part of the unified, panicked mass that rooted themselves so deeply into caring for their patients that they died a little inside every time they lost one. He didn't get involved.

His apathy didn't mean he that didn't work as hard as the rest of them - far from it. In fact, he was an extremely skilled surgeon. One of the best in Fire Country. He had performed extremely difficult surgical procedures, pioneered several successful new medical techniques and saved countless lives. But he had learned that despite his skill, despite his high success rate, and despite his recognition, he couldn't save the people he cared about most. Once, that realization had torn him apart. Now, he found himself caring very little about anyone. He did what he could and had long convinced himself that that was enough, that there was nothing more that he could have done. He wouldn't let himself indulge in the happiness that came with a successful operation, if only to avoid that grief that was the result of an unsuccessful one. His life was one long cycle of life and death and fake eye-smiles, jokes that his heart wasn't quite in and nights spent alone in his office, crashed out in a computer chair. Hatake Kakashi was a saviour that needed saving. He glanced lazily at his watch. Despite being constantly hounded by his colleagues, he was never really late.

He always got there just in time.

When he finally did arrive, the always calm surgical team ran through a brief explanation of what had happened. The kid, a blond seventeen-year-old boy, had been found unconscious and bleeding all over the pavement. Somehow, a load of shredded, rusting metal had ended up embedded in his right calf. There were various other injuries all over the boy, but they would only need a few stitches here and there. His leg was a far more serious concern. If the rusting metal wasn't removed, and carefully, the teenager risked losing function below the knee of his right leg, and even if the procedure was successful there was a serious risk of infection. Even so, the operation shouldn't be too difficult. Kakashi was told the boy's name and handed a clipboard of his previous medical notes to look over. The notes were... fascinating. He didn't have time to read the details, as most of the information concerned the boy's psychological health, which wasn't important right now. Skimming over a few past physical ailments, which were mainly just broken bones and nasty cuts, he decided there were no apparent problems that could compromise this operation. It was only when he prepared to get started on removing the metal debris, after he has slid up the dark band of cloth that concealed his abnormally coloured left eye that he actually looked at the patient. And then the name suddenly registered in his mind, wrenching through him like a ton of bricks.

Uzumaki Naruto.

He looked just like his father.

Kakashi slipped through the privacy curtain surrounding Naruto's bed. The teenager lay there in a trouble sleep, a slight frown marring his soft features. Once again, the surgeon couldn't help but notice the similarity between Namikaze Minato and his son - they both had the most adorable scowl. The surgeon was startled by his own fond smile. Since when was he prone to such episodes of nostalgia? Correcting his features, he glanced over the neat bandages covering the boy's right leg from knee to ankle. The operation had been performed with few complications, apart from a slight delay when an unexpectedly large piece of metal had to be cut several times before it could be removed. His work was done. He could assign somebody else to oversee the blond until he was discharged, to check for signs of infection and make sure the wound was healing correctly.

Kakashi made as if to leave, trying to sneak back out through the curtain, and was already halfway gone when he heard Naruto stir. Turning back, he saw the boy blink several times and sit up, clutching his head, then run a curious hand over the stitches on his forehead. The older man felt an uncharacteristic urge to bolt, to get away, but was too entranced by the sight of the blond checking his body for other injuries. Hands slid down his torso and along his arms, noticing and carefully expecting each cut and bruise before moving on, eventually skating his fingers down to the bandage on his leg. This damage was clearly worse than the other injuries. Naruto started intently at the bandage and prodded it a few times, flinching with pain.

Suddenly, Kakashi wished he could disappear. He didn't want to talk to this boy, this apparition from the past. Once again, he just didn't want to get involved. But this feeling was not one he had experienced with other patients, because this time, it was just... different. He didn't understand, and that didn't make sense, because Hatake Kakashi always understood...

He tried again to slink away unnoticed, but Naruto whipped his head around, noticing another presence by his bedside. Kakashi had been seen, and when they made eye contact, he knew he couldn't get away. Those eyes...

"Hospital, huh? Are you my doctor?" asked the boy, his voice perfectly friendly despite the slight, barely detectable edge of discomfort. Kakashi was surprised the teen wasn't intimidated by his ever-present surgical mask and covered eye. Usually, the lack of exposed flesh on his face unnerved and offended patients; many seemed to think he wore it so they wouldn't infect him in some way, as if they were dirty, and his headband... well, that was just plain weird. But Naruto seemed to take it in stride. Perhaps he was just incredibly stupid. The older man eye-smiled, and mirrored the casual, cheerful tone;

"No, I'm a surgeon," he explained, "I just operated on your leg. You need to keep it still and stop prodding it - you'll get it infected."

The blond sheepishly removed his hand but continued to fidget, beaming at Kakashi. It was making the surgeon uncomfortable. The teen thrust his hand forward, offering it to the surgeon.

"Hi, I'm the great Uzumaki Naruto!" he announced, his greeting enthusiastic and far too loud. Kakashi stared at the hand, noticing the blood stains on the back. Realizing he hadn't moved or spoken in about a minute, he eventually came out with the very first response his churning mind could think up.

"I know", he replied, in a slightly more subdued version of his normal tone. "I saw your notes, Naruto-kun."

The hand remained stretched out, and Kakashi's gaze remained fixed upon it. Eventually, the surgeon broke the silence with an excuse to leave.

"I'm, sorry, but I have other patients to attend to, Uzumaki-san. I will send a doctor to check up on you and supervise your progress until you are discharged."

As he turned away from Naruto, he caught the hand lowering out of the corner of his eye and kept walking, searching for somewhere to clear his mind. Despite his carefully maintained calm, he was feeling extremely flustered and disturbed; he almost jumped from shock when the boy called out to him again.

"Wait!" he cried desperately, causing a grey eye to meet his from over the surgeon's shoulder. "You never told me your name."

The older man just stood there for a long while, lost in the electricity as storm-cloud silver met startling blue. He tried to keep walking, but was frozen in Naruto's gaze. He felt stripped of his cheerful pretence - this boy could see him, this boy could see past his always-joking mask and through to what was beneath. Everything dropped, everything stopped; the quirk of his eye fell until his face stopped feeling so fake, and it was just him and this teenaged boy standing in silence, waiting. The look of disappointment on the blonde's face sent a wave of nausea through his body; the surgeon knew he couldn't leave until the boy got what he was waiting for.

"Kakashi. Hatake Kakashi."

His voice was distant, and sounded so far from what it usually did that he was sure it didn't belong to him, not really. He turned and escaped, letting the rush of families and nurses snag him back to a reality he knew. Forcing himself to take his usual slow, lazy strides, he concentrated on his relief that he had gotten away, and that now the past could stay locked up where it belonged, in his memories.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stifle the giddy tingle he felt in his stomach after seeing the blond boy smile.

What do you think so far? Is this worth continuing? I was hoping to make it a multi-chapter story, but it's sort of meandering where it wants to at the moment, which appears to be working quite well. I have a rough plot outline in my head, so I will probably write more.

Tell me what you think!

(Also, if you spot spelling or grammar errors, however minor, please let me know. I like to have the little flaws pointed out - it helps me improve!)