A/N: Welcome to angst-city, kids. Just as an added note, this level of obsession is not one that I consider healthy. With that being said... enjoy the fic. ;)

Obsession

A KakaSaku oneshot

I've been watching him for some time now.

It's not in the same way that Naruto and Sasuke watch him. Their eyes don't trail after our sensei in the same way my eyes do, and they certainly don't hold the same feelings that I feel.

When they watch his hands form into a seal, their stomachs don't flop; and whenever they hear his low smooth voice, I'm certain that their hearts don't speed up. I am convinced that I am alone in this endeavor.

Whenever Kakashi-sensei draws close to me on the training field, even for the briefest of moments, I feel so light-headed… so faint. If Naruto or Sasuke ever feel this way it's only because they've worked themselves to exhaustion.

For all of those females in the village who may long for the Copy-nin, send him wanton glances in passing, or hold secret crushes for him – none of them come close to what I hold. None of them get to interact with him on a daily basis like I do, or go on missions with him, or train with him, or see him for most hours of the day.

Many would call me lucky, and trade for what I have in a heartbeat, but only because they do not understand the downfall of my situation. None of them understand the consequences of what I must face daily for being a young girl with a weak heart. To put it quite simply…

I'm in love with my sensei.

It's not a crush, and it's not love. It's more like a sickness. An all consuming fever that makes my body lose strength, and fills me with the greatest feelings of dread and exhilaration. I can't eat. I can't sleep. Conflicting thrills run up and down my body, through my fingers and toes, and through my chest. It becomes hard to breathe whenever I see my sensei, and even when I don't.

I begin to realize that growing up is not as simple as I once thought. Perspectives change and things no longer look the way they first appeared. That's the most frightening part.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I still see a young girl. Slim but fit, with clenched fists, striking pink hair and dim green eyes. Her body is filled with tension from the distressing thoughts that fill her day, but there is also a hint of softness around her chest and hips that cannot be hidden by her form-fitting clothes. This girl is on the cusp of womanhood. This girl is me.

When I see Kakashi-sensei… a man in his full maturity, I can't help but sense the vast difference between us, and suddenly my own insecure thoughts about growing up seem quite foolish. How could I ever match him?

Still…

I am haunted by visions of him at night. Glimpses of silver fade in and out of my vision against the black. He fills my every waking dream and fantasy. I can't help the way my hand strays when thinking about him at night, and a fever of a different kind takes over my body.

He is legendary. He is power and fame. He is gentleness combined with skill and intellect. He is everything I want to be. I want to consume him and take him whole. Some days this desire to possess him becomes so strong that the lines of reality blurs and I no longer see him as my teamleader. I drag him off of that pedestal during those moments, because it becomes easier to fantasize about pushing him down and straddling him that way. It's almost as if I believe that if I press against him close enough, I will be able to possess him and make him completely mine. I want to touch him and stroke him, and leave little marks of myself all over his body. A breath… just a touch of chakra… traces of my fingerprints… or a hint of my scent. Anything to mark him as mine.

But these thoughts terrify me. Whenever they take over, I feel like running away... so I won't be able to see my sensei, or touch him, or hurt him. Because he is the one man I respect and trust above all others.

No matter how I may twist him around in my mind, it does not change the reality of the situation.

In reality, Hatake Kakashi is the paragon of loyalty and stead-fastness. For all of the perverted books the jounin reads, he would never think perverted thoughts of his students. Kakashi-sensei would never push his female student to the ground, or against a wall, or whisper dirty things in her ear at night. The very thought would probably sicken him. I should not be thinking these thoughts about him, because he doesn't deserve this. My team doesn't deserve this.

I don't deserve this.

But I can't help but want Hatake Kakashi. I want him. I want him.

I want it all. To hear him moan beneath my touch, and feel his body tremble when I grip into his shirt. Just like my dreams. I want to feel that soft brush of silvery hair against my cheek and take in a deep breath of his scent. I want to feel his heartbeat and hear his low voice rip away from his throat in a shout as I press against him. He will moan my name again and again. His eyes will close and he will throw his head back in abandonment – mouth turned into a grimace of pleasure and pain as I take everything away from him. I want to feel that conflict go on in his mind as he gives into the pleasure while fighting against the guilt of screwing his student.

It's not a crush. It's not love. It's a sickness, and it consumes me, body and soul.

The fever is running through my body again. My eyes are glazed over and I feel shaky. It gets worse every day, and soon it becomes too obvious to hide. It's not long before he finally begins to take notice.

"Sakura," he says one day. "You don't look well."

We stop our spar. In the distance, Naruto and Sasuke continue fighting. The sounds of their clash can be heard from the next training field over.

I don't look at Kakashi-sensei in the eye, because it's hard to look at him without feeling a stab of guilt. He is watching me with an intense gaze, taking in my unusual condition. It's never been this bad before.

Sensei is never harsh with me like he might be with Sasuke or Naruto. If they were to ever show up sick to training, he would probably tell them off, but with me he merely asks if I need a break. I agree, and think that soon I will be able to put some distance between us, even if it's just a little bit, and regain my focus while I go sit under a nearby tree.

But sensei stops me before I can even move. He places a hand on my shoulder. Pleasant tingles radiate through my body from this point of contact, and for a moment a hot thrum surges through my veins. It is a feeling I cannot temper.

It's a brutal wave that makes me weak in the knees. I'm faint with desire and lust. That giddy feeling rises up in my chest. I can't think or breathe. The giddiness grows and becomes painful like sharp needles in my chest. Torture. Pure longing cuts my heart, and suddenly I feel that hot and desperate need to possess him. To make him mine.

I wonder if he can see it in my eyes.

But sensei does not see it, I think. Just as all the times before… he does not sees it. I assume it is this way because there is no reaction in his gaze. Instead of pulling back he does the opposite of what I want, and presses his hand down on my shoulder in a firmer grip, as if he thinks I'm about to fall over. Perhaps I am.

There is more warmth. Closer contact. And I fear for this man's safety. There is no suggestiveness in his touch… just concern, and that silent question asking if I'm all right, but that's all it takes to push me over the edge.

The answer is that I'm not all right. I'm the farthest thing of being from fine, and if I were to fall to the ground right now I would drag him down with me. But I can't let any of this show. Especially not to him.

As calmly as possible I grab my sensei's wrist – skin against skin, I leave my prints – and lightly direct his hand away from my shoulder in a smooth motion. It's calm, and could be seen as a perfectly normal action. A signal of reassurance to let him know I'm fine as I brush him off. Then walking away I put distance between us. The fever still consumes me. I try not to let it show as I slide down against the nearest tree to rest. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I hide my face in my knees. The cool air kisses the sweat on my brows. My bones ache with longing.

It would appear that calm and casual, and perfectly normal are not my usual defining characteristics. Kakashi-sensei is in tune with this, and it sets him off. I know he's suspicious. It is now of all times that I need to be my most guarded.

So, then… why can't I stop these tears and hiccups?

I break down.

Of course, he's worried now. I would worry too if I saw one of my teammates collapse into a miserable heap of tears. He is next to me again, crouching down, asking if I'm all right. This time he voices the question. That smooth voice is demanding, but his touch is gentle when he places a hand on my shoulder again. I feel guilty as I think that his touch shouldn't feel this good. I'm still hiding my face.

Unseen, hot tears prickle up in my eyes and streak down my cheeks. I know it all wells up from this painful love I hold for my sensei… from the guilt and desire… but it does not explain why I should break down now and cry when I have never cried over these feelings before.

Perhaps, on some subconscious level… I knew of the terrible act I was about to commit, and these tears were for that future act.

Then, just like that, the tears stop.

Taking a deep breath I wipe my eyes. Kakashi-sensei is surprised to see me recover so quickly, and by the streaks across my face, but I don't give him time to think about it, because the next moment I'm stroking his arm in a loving caress, then reaching out to stroke his cheek.

Sensei flinches back, hard, and then throws out his free arm to catch himself from falling backwards.

That brief moment of shock is all I need to follow after him. I move with his movements to push him down and straddle his waist. Suddenly, I'm all heated once again, and I feel that overwhelming drive to overtake my sensei. Lust and desire. Those dark fantasies that run through my mind at night take over, just as vivid as any dream, and blurs with reality. I need to press closer. I need more contact.

This time, I know Kakashi-sensei can see it in my eyes.

In a quiet breath, my name leaves his lips.

Shock… uncertainty…when I'm this close and sitting on top of him, I can almost read his thoughts. There is surprise and confusion at my sudden actions. He's wondering if I've snapped or gone mad, because he's never seen this side of me before. I almost want to laugh and say that perhaps I have gone mad, because thinking of him so obsessively these past few months, lusting after him, and wanting him hasbeenmadness.

But there is little time to think, and I know he's going to gather his wits soon – perhaps to push me away, or even throw me off. If there's anything I've learned about the Copy-nin, it's that he's never down for long.

He tenses up, ready to move, but I'm quick to press my knees to the ground and grip his wrists. A brief struggle ensues, but chakra-control beats brute strength every time.

"Sakura…" He stops moving, and says my name again. He can't move. This time there is warning in his voice. He hasn't been using his full strength to get away, because he doesn't want to hurt me… but now he's getting tired of the situation, and he will dip into his arsenal of jounin moves, or use more force if he must.

The choice is clear: get up, or get thrown off.

I hold him down.

"Please…" I say. I don't know what I'm begging for, but I just want him to listen. My hands are holding down his wrists. I remove my hands and briefly touch his face then drag my hands down his chest, touching him in my own inexperienced way. Using my chakra, I enforce my legs so I can keep him pinned to the ground.

He shudders. There is no hiding the reaction. We can both feel it. Ashamed, and perhaps a little bit alarmed, he's grabbing for my wrists, but before his hands can make contact, I pump a dose of chakra into his system.

It stops his actions immediately. In a blur of silver hair, he throws his head back, and I see the way his fingers dig into the ground. No surprise. The stomach is the most sensitive area to apply chakra. I continue to send a soothing flow down that's meant to relax and stimulate all at the same time. It's like practicing on the human dolls at the hospital. I continue to send it throughout his body. I've never tried such a technique on myself, but I'm willing to bet it feels good.

The way he pants for breath confirms my theory.

I unzip his vest and drag my fingers down his chest and stomach in a desperate attempt to keep him distracted. Without the barrier of the vest the feelings intensify. I can feel the hard planes of his body beneath the soft material of his shirt. It's interesting to watch the emotions cross his face and how his eye slides shut. I push away the headband covering his scarred eye, and then pull away the mask covering his face... I can see his reactions better this way. He's so distracted he doesn't even fight back. Perhaps if I continue to assault his senses he'll have no chance to react. I feel the leap of his muscles beneath my hands, and before long I'm panting with excitement, too. I need to get closer.

But he's beginning to regain his senses now. I can see him fighting against the haze of shock and pleasure.

He really grips my hands this time and stills my movements. I stop sending chakra into his body and brace myself, ready for a violent reaction. But Kakashi-sensei does not move, instead he continues to hold my hands in place with his eyes closed as if he's struggling to decide what to do. His silver hair falls in his face and I just want to reach over and brush it away.

"Why fight it?" I tell him. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

I know it feels good. It's probably the most intense pleasure he's ever felt in his life. He's probably never experienced anything like this before. We're both struggling with our feelings now, and I've never been more turned on in my life. He doesn't reply, but instead his grip tightens around my wrists.

It would be so easy for him to give in now, and let me continue on with my actions. No one would have to know about this. In a soft voice, I promise him that I would never tell. Just for this one time, all he needed to do was sit back and let me have my way… I could make it feel so good for the both of us. It could be our little secret. We don't have to tell anyone.

His eyes are closed and his jaw is tight with tension. The grip around my arms tighten to a painful level as he struggles with the decision. I'm surprised he's actually considering the ultimatum. It seems impossible that someone such as Kakashi-sensei would actually consider something like this. I can feel a flutter of excitement growing in my stomach. Excitement tinged with fear. My heart is hammering out of my chest, and yet… and yet…

I lean down to press a kiss to his lips.

He hates it. I can feel him despising the action but relenting to it all at the same time. His mouth is hard and unyielding, but I imagine that it makes my gentle lips feel all the softer in comparison.

I don't know what I'm doing. I'm fumbling as I move my mouth against his, but it doesn't take long for even an amateur like me to catch on. Soon, he's melting under my touch, and I can see sparks fly against my vision with each hot slide of our lips. Warm tingles shoot through my body. Our breaths mingle. As his grip around my wrists relinquishes I use the chance to free my hands and to feel his jaw line and stroke his hair. He puts a restless hand behind my neck to pull me closer for a deeper kiss. We're molding together, our bodies connect, our tongues touch. Pure bliss.

Then all at once it becomes too much.

I feel his body shudder in revulsion, as if it were actively protesting against our intrepid union. All at once he pulls away and I feel myself flung off him. I'm disoriented as I struggle to push off the ground, and the cold air hits me from our sudden separation. Kakashi-sensei is standing a few feet away, one hand bracing out against the tree, and the other hiding his face as his chest moves up and down in quick shallow breaths. He looks dazed and sickened, like a blind man reaching out for support. How he ever managed to push me down so quickly and put so much distance between us, I'll never know.

Suddenly, I feel ashamed. The white hot guilt rips through me, I feel a hardness in my chest, and my face flushes up from embarrassment. I'm ashamed for what I've done, and how I made my sensei feel. He looks pathetic doubled over like that.

Yet, that burning desire still remains.

"Can't we…?" My throat closes up.

Can't we at least try? I want to ask. I want to plea with him… beg with him… and give him reassuring words that it could all be kept a secret, but that feeling of shame prevents me from speaking.

When he speaks, his voice is low and harsh like gravel. As if he hasn't spoken for years. "Sakura… you know we can't." He looks so pained as he talks, and he's still hiding his face from shame. "We can't." He's visibly trembling from emotion, or perhaps he's just shaken up from the fact that his kindest, brightest, most unsuspecting student just forcefully tried to coerce him.

I want to cry out from the indignation of it all. It seems so unfair… that the one thing I want most out of life is the one thing I can't have. That the object of my affection can't see things my way. I watch as sensei stumbles back from the tree. The guilt still burns through us both.

"This never happened between us," he says, and he finally finds it within himself to look at me. One dark and red eye.

The statement seems absurd when everything is so obviously out of place. Kakashi-sensei is still not wearing his vest. He lost his headband when I took it off, and his mask is still down. I can feel the cooling moisture of when out lips touched together. My shirt is disarrayed, and I'm staring at a man with a strange face that I don't recognize. I don't know which hurts more, this stranger's rejection me, or his denial over everything that took place.

Just saying that something did not happen, does not make it go away. I tell him this, and there are tears running down my cheeks as I say it. I feel so humiliated.

What does he expect? For us to carry on as normal? To go on pretending that what happened between us didn't happen?

Apparently so.

As he stumbles away, he doesn't bother to glance back or give any final words of consolation. I feel the increasing distance with a painful clarity, and I'm impressed with the understanding that the next time we meet, there was to be no mention of this incident.

It's as if all my past feelings for this man were being erased.

With each passing second, I can feel my own passions cooling. Like a bright flame cooling down to a smoldering spark, or like a person waking out of a long slumber and being splashed by cold water. I can feel the obsessive haze fade away, and cool reasoning seep back in.

Suddenly, everything seems so clear.

I promise myself... that I will never think of my sensei in that way again.

The air feels so cool against my face.

Meanwhile, back at the jounin's apartment...

Kakashi slams the door shut. Heart pounding he grips on to the back of the nearest desk chair for support.

His breath is shaky, and whenever he closes his eyes the only thing he can see are her green eyes, pink hair, and slightly parted lips. He can even still feel her hands dragging up and down his chest and that mesmerizing feel of chakra. Then when she pressed her lips against his...

It was something he honestly never considered it before, and though the thoughts sicken him, and he fights against it with every fiber of his being…

The obsession has already begun.