Over Time of the Returned

Katsume dismounted from Dakuhosu—feet finally touching down on the soil of her home–and took a moment to stretch her muscles from the tolling journey, giving Daku a gentle pat on his sturdy neck as thanks. Kakashi followed behind shortly, swinging his leg off the highly beast, just as relieved to be back in a friendly atmosphere. His muscles ached tremendously–sore in places he didn't even realize he was using to ensure he didn't fall off the great beast. It took a moment for him to adjust to solid ground again, his legs felt like they would give out from underneath him at any given moment–quaking like jello.

She inhales deeply through her nose, drooling at the thought of delectable dangos as their sweet smell circulates through the air around her, coaxing her nose to the bakery down the road like a siren's song. She couldn't wait to get her hands on a plate. Her report can wait, right?

She makes a B-line for the bakery, but a certain silver-haired, stick-up-his-ass ninja catches her arm with a displeased look crinkling his usually soft features.

"Report first, then dangos." His hold, just above her elbow, is commanding but not aggressive. It never is.

She pouts with a huff, rotating her arm to remove his grip. He didn't put up a fight–his point had been made. "Are you a psychic?"

When it comes to you?" Kakashi chuckles. His knowledge of her antics surprised even him sometimes. "Yes."

Katsume rolls her eyes, but a soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Boo...You're no fun."

He gasps dramatically when she gives him a thumbs-down.

Katsume dismisses Dakuhosu, promising a sack full of apples for all that he had done. Full of dread—having left on not the best of terms with her mother before the mission—she trudges sourly to the Hokage's Mansion.

Her elbow bumps lightly against something and she looks over in surprise. "Huh? Why are you coming? Only one of us needs to report."

"I'm aware. I just thought you could use the company," he gives her a close-eyed smile.

As sincere as his intentions seemed, that smile was slightly off. She couldn't quite place it. He might be worried, knowing the circumstances of her and her mother's relationship; he might just want her to know that he's there for her. He is a good friend. There was no reason for the by-product of her skeletons to rear their ugly head.

"Alright." She returns his smile.

________________________________________________________________________________

When they reached the Hokage's office, Kakashi had decided it best to wait for Katsume outside the door, allowing her to speak to her mother in private.

As Katsume strolls in, pushing through the double wooden doors—uncaring of the force that might leave the adjacent walls damaged from the brass knobs—her mother greets her, "You're back.".

Katsume scowls at the older woman. Figures she wouldn't even bother to look up from her paperwork with her "greeting".

"You sound surprised..." she snarled.

"Not in the slightest–I'm relieved." Tsunade stirs the coffee she'd apparently just refilled.

She'd noticed the steam rising from the pale mug and the swirling mixture of cream and black coffee that hadn't quite finished their merging. She gestures for Katsume to sit.

"I'll stand," Katsume declines shortly. She'd prefer to leave as soon as possible, so there'd be no point in getting comfortable.

"Suit yourself..." Tsunade sighs. Disheartened since their last encounter, she had hoped they'd be able to settle things and talk. "How'd it go?"

Katsume reaches into her pack and retrieves the scroll they'd acquired from the Enmei shrine and sets it in front of her on the desk. "Mission completed," is all she said, before she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

"Katsume," Tsunade's brows knit together, a bit fed-up with this constant tug-o-war with her daughter. "You may be my daughter, but I expect your professionalism to reflect a proper jounin of the Leaf. And as the Hokage..." she reprimands, "...and despite our relationship, I will be respected as such."

Katsume stops dead in her tracks–barely a footlong's distance from the oak, cherry-stained doors.

Tsunade glares at her back, her daughter's ivory tresses–tousled and raggedy from her journey–swayed lightly with the sudden halt in her step. The older woman's hazel eyes widen as she noticed the younger's shoulders jittering, her head falling forward, and the hand that came up to cover her mouth, stifling whatever sound was escaping her plush lips.

Is she crying? she thought, taken aback by the supposed vulnerable state her daughter was willingly showing to her.

Katsume inhaled deeply, then suddenly threw her head back, her hand finally falling away from her mouth to sway limply at her side. It was then that Tsunade realized she hadn't made her daughter cry...but that she had been laughing.

Katsume's laughter settles into a snicker and her head tilts to the side as she spins back around, her eyes void of any visual emotion.

A prickled sigh sounds as she gathers herself. She's much too tired for this shit. "I don't give a rat's ass what you expect. My respect is earned. I don't go around handing it out to those who don't deserve it." Her hair flips back into place behind her shoulder as she makes her way to the door. "You haven't given me a single reason to respect you, so figure your own shit out before you come at me with your pitiful expectations."

The door slams behind her, and as she rounds the corner she sees Kakashi waiting patiently. She can't talk to him right now. She needs to cool off. Alone.

He raises a hand to stop her as she treads her way towards him. "I actually need to speak with the Hok–"

To his surprise, she keeps walking at her brisk pace, waving him off.

"It's fine. I'm going home," she said shortly, continuing past him, down the barren walls of the hall.

He watched as her figure fades down the stairs, hearing the distant sound of the mansion's entrance slam, vibrating the walls. Yeesh, he thought, that can't be a good sign...

Kakashi knocks lightly against the office door. If Katsume's that mad from their brief talk, then this meeting is bound to go poorly. He winces as his permission to enter is a loud but muffled, "What!?" sounding from the other side.

He opened the door with a passing glance to the Anbu guarding it as he entered that said, 'Pray for me,' and the guards nod in tragic understanding.

Approaching her desk–piled high with stacks on stacks of unfiled documents—he bows slightly at the waist, presenting himself. "Lady Fifth."

"Kakashi." She nods, acknowledging him, though the tension in her features doesn't soften. "How did the mission actually go?"

He uncoils to his full height and locks his hands behind his back. "As I'm sure Katsume informed, it was a success," he starts, eyeing the scroll on the desk. "We encountered a hostile group of Orochimaru's subordinates, but they were dealt with accordingly, I assure you." He wasn't sure if he was ashamed or grateful that he had no part in that task, but he continued, "The scroll, we discovered, was left behind in the hands of the last remaining member of the Enmei Clan, though she wasn't aware of that fact from what we could tell."

There's a long silence as Tsunade nods, absorbing his report. However, it wasn't the intel she was hoping for. "I was referring to your other mission..." She glares. "It's been nearly a month since your last report."

Kakashi sighs and scratches behind his ear. "With all due respect, Lady Fifth, I don't think this is really the best way to go about getting information out of your own daughter. I've come to understand how she can be. However..." His onyx gaze slides across the room–anywhere but where his Hokage is seated. "...wouldn't talking to her yourself be more efficient?"

"I appreciate the thought, Kakashi," her voice cold and laced with desperate venom, "But if I wanted parenting advice, I would've asked someone with actual experience," Tsunade flicks her wrist sharply as if to dismiss his opinion from the air around her. "Please state your findings."

Kakashi's typically neutral features harden. "I'd like to withdraw from this assignment." He tried to ignore the sting of her word as he thought about his students. He may not have biological children of his own, but communication is everything when it comes to relationships, especially with children. And though Katsume may not be a child, she is her child. If she desired to learn more about Katsume–to be accepted by her–then she had to put in the effort herself. Not via a third party.

Tsunade hazels narrowed into slits as her features tightened in tandem with her fists. "What are you on about? You're a ninja, Kakashi, this isn't like you at all."

"I refuse to betray my own comrade," he states with icy certainty, avoiding eye contact with his superior as he glares beyond her, slightly above her head.

"Betray?" she repeated back to him, nearly in a mocking tone. Tsunade slams her hands on the desk as she stands against his rough, stoic expression. "Kakashi, if there is something I need to know about Katsume, it is your duty—not just to me as the Hokage, but to Konoha—to tell me of it!"

Kakashi doesn't so much as flinch as he stares out the wall of windows just beyond her. "There's nothing of significance to report, Lady Fifth." His gaze finally falls to meet hers–ensuring the gravity of his words. "I cannot–will not–continue this assignment any further."

She holds him in her sternness before her hazel eyes–that showed browner than her coffee today–scanned over his icy features. He wasn't one to let his emotions suede him. But as he stood before her and said those words— 'I will not betray my comrade—all she could see was his father. The White Fang. She'd know him well and fought alongside him. Though she was much younger at the time, she knew what he stood for...and how it ended for him.

Tsunade inhales deeply as she sits back down behind her desk, watching his gaze drift off through the large paned windows once more—as the silence had seemed to cushion the tension in the air. "I understand. You have feelings for her, don't you?" It was more of a rhetorical statement. She knew she should be elated, however, her heart chose irritation.

Kakashi remained silent for a moment longer, feeling the tips of his ears heat, his eye shifting to the left. "I feel this assignment is a breach of trust, is all." Now to the floor, his brows knitted tight as if he were almost ashamed. "There are better ways than I to go about this business."

Tsunade stands from her seat behind her desk, turns her back to him and slides open the window. She inhales deeply the morning's crisp autumn air, hoping the freshness might cool the flames of her frustration. "Go. Now. I've heard enough of this."

She waves him off, growing more irritated by the second. Is no one on her side? She wished Jiraiya were here right now...but he'd be gone for months at this rate. He would probably just tell her to still her wrath and be happy for their daughter, anyway. Maybe, he'd even take her hand, drawing mindless circles on the back of it with his thumb, to soothe her.

But he isn't here.

"My apologies, Lady Fifth. I wish I could have been of more assistance," Kakashi says wearily. He could understand her frustration, but this was a task he could not see through. "Thank you for your understanding."

She only hums disapprovingly in response. He bowed slightly before he spun on his heels and made out the door as quickly as possible, passing a familiar mask–the set of eyes, he'd noticed, in-tail behind Katsume regularly–on his way out. They each nod, only to acknowledge one another. Acknowledging formally would see to become a liability–a rule for all Anbu.

Cat–as we know him–saunters gracefully past the man, headed for the Hokage's office himself. He'd no doubt be fulfilling the task Kakashi had relinquished moments before. He'd predicted it a while ago. As his eyes and ears are–quite literally–within the walls.

Kakashi doesn't pay the Anbu any mind...if anything he was thankful the Hokage would still achieve what she wanted. Just as long as it didn't involve him. He felt better now–though he should've seen to it long ago, once he'd realized where his heart resided.

But he couldn't do this any longer.

Not if he was to confess anytime soon.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Months seemed to pass like minutes. It was a time of avoidance and ill-fitting moments that wouldn't quite match up–for neither Katsume nor Kakashi. She'd spent most of her time lingering about the village. Tsunade placed her on suspension after Katsume returned from the Hidden Mist, likely in response to Katsume's "disrespect" after giving her report that day. In turn, Katsume wasn't allowed to take any missions—not that she needed the money anyway—nor was she allowed to accompany Naruto, Sakura, or any of the genin on their minor student missions. She was more upset about the latter. However, Tsunade finally–reluctantly–lifted her suspension, after about a month of brooding.

Kakashi voiced his opinion often about her suspension, and they had spent some casual time together on his off days—once a week, at best—since Tsunade was taking out her wrath on him in a different way: Keeping him plenty busy with long missions as well as petty errands.

Katsume pondered every moment of interaction, as she treaded through the overgrown forest—thick oaks towering over her, branches ensnaring and tugging at her already unruly ivory locks—looking for any trace of her plucky student. She and Naruto were participating in a supposedly short game of Chakra Hide-and-Seek. Since Jiraiya was away, he often came to her for assistance in his solo training. He was doing quite well, considering how poorly he use to do. His hold on his chakra was less than unsatisfactory more than a month ago, but now she struggles to find any trace of him despite the immense chakra he contained in tangent with the nine-tailed residing within him.

She shakes her head subconsciously—the heaviness of her dully horned forehead protector made apparent–and she wished her father was here to bestow his wisdom upon her. In these months, it felt as though she hadn't had a lick of sleep–her guilty and toiling mind rampaging at all hours of the night. It never felt like the right time to tell Kakashi of her soon departure from the village. But never mind that...she had to see him for more than a mere minute first. Though, she hadn't been too eager to confront him either.

She groaned wearily as she hauled herself over an old and battered husk of a fallen oak tree. Halfway over, she collapses–of exhaustion presumably, whether mentally or physically she didn't know– her arms and legs splayed as she laid belly-down, the roughly textured bark scraping against her lightly-tanned skin.

A presence flashes beside her. "Still haven't found him?" He sat there on the trunk crisscrossed–his elbow propped on his knee as his palm cradled his chin.

"Who are you referring to? Though, the answer is 'No' regardless," she drones, and he shoots her a look that she didn't acknowledge.

He chuckles and places a reassuring calloused hand on her shoulder. "Seems you are losing your touch."

She rolls over to face what would be the sky had the trees not been so thick in this area. Audible pops and cracks—trapped air between her tight muscles and bones—sound as her back conforms to the shape of the tree. "You have no idea." Her brown orbs roll, shrowded by the lightless canopy, and she shrugs his hand of its brief stay.

"I could set up a formal meeting. Just say the word," he offers, sounding as though he'd rather not go through the trouble. However, it was his duty as her friend to offer up his support in whatever way he could.

She sighs disheartened, but thankful, nonetheless before she says, "No. This is something I must do on my own, I'm afraid." Then lets her heavy lids close over her strained eyes—similar to that of dampened soil. Only then could he fully take in the darkened half-circled bags beneath them–telling the tale of her sleepless nights.

Cat's lips tighten into a short pitied smile behind his mask when she shortly flashes away not more than a hundred meters to the West of his spot atop the fallen, sunken-in tree. Termites had certainly made their home in it, he realized, before briskly hopping off. Moments later he heard a muffled "Found you." off in the distance, followed by a frustrated groan from the student she had been seeking.

He chuckles softly as they emerge from the brush of the forest to enter the clearing simultaneously, and joins up to walk side-by-side with them as they head back toward the heart of the village.

He leans over to whisper in her ear. "Word would say that he's accompanied by your other student, visiting the farmer's market. But you didn't hear that from me, milady."

Her eyes roll once again at the label. "Please, don't call me that. My mother may have sent out a formal statement about our relationship, but I'd prefer not to be regarded above anyone else."

Naruto side-eyes the two adults' conversation. He was well aware of Katsume's official title, but she was still sensei to him. Though, at the time, he was shocked to learn that Granny Tsunade and Pervy Sage had... done it. The thought made him shiver in disgust. He looked at his sensei a bit differently from then on–to no fault of her own–merely a by-product of the circumstance.

As they entered the heart of the village, Naruto split off from the pair–he was to have lunch with Iruka-sensei at Ichiraku. Katsume smiles as she waves goodbye, asking him to say "hello" to him for her.

Cat continued to escort her through the village roads. It wasn't surprising to see her with him as she wandered around anymore, they had gotten quite close in recent months. He knew everything—her relationship with her mother, and her upcoming departure from the village. They're the best of friends, but his heart often yearned for something more, though he'd likely never voice it. She didn't even know his real name for heaven's sake.

"Have you spoken to your mother recently?" he questions, though he already knows the answer.

"Besides obligatory reports? No," she answers boredly.

"Don't you think it might be time to give her a chance? It's been nearly half a year since you came to the Leaf..."

Her eyes widen slightly. Had it already been that long? She sighs and shakes her head. "As cold as I might be, I want her to come to terms with whatever she's pushing deep down within herself. I refuse to be her daughter until she's accepted what drove her to abandon me in the first place. It's not fair to either of us," her eyes are solemn as she explains.

"Why don't you tell her that then?"

"Because it's not my job to be the parent." She shrugs. She asks that question herself sometimes.

He lets out an understanding hum of approval. "That must be hard for you, waiting on her..."

"I've waited twenty-five years, a few more won't hurt." Katsume shrugs once more, though there was less effort in it than the last.

He stares straight ahead, as he usually does. "Do you think it'll take that long?"

"I hope not, but I must stay firm...for myself."

She pauses the conversation as she stops at a fruit vendor in the farmer's market. Her head had been on a casual swivel as the sauntered through, eyes honing for a tuff of silver hair.

She purchases a sack of fuji apples as well as a case of strawberries, hoping to fulfill her momentary sweet tooth. She planned to make some chocolate-covered assortments for her close friends...maybe Cat would be willing to help... "Would you like an assortment of chocolate-covered strawberries?" she offers him.

"Me?" he questions, slightly taken aback by the offer.

"Who else would I be talking to?" Katsume giggles. "Of course, you'd have to earn it..." she smirks, jutting him with her elbow.

"I should have expected that..." he mumbles, "What do you want?"

"Just help me make them, is all." She sends him a close-eyed smile. "It's not hard...It'll simply be faster with your assistance."

He chuckles as he agrees to the task...not that he would've refused anyway...

_______________________________________________________________________________

Back at Katsume's apartment, she guides Cat—currently hauling a large portion of her groceries—through the narrow doorframe and into the kitchen. He sets them on the counter with an exhausted huff.

"I've decided to eat half the batch as compensation for my back pain," he groans. It wasn't that heavy, but paired with the amount of walking that accompanied the load...she'd pay with chocolate.

She giggles softly, "Fine. Kakashi isn't partial to sweets anyway, so you can have his portion of the chocolate."

He brings his hands together in front of his chest and bows slightly. "Thank you, Kakashi, for this meal."

Katsume laughs and bumps his shoulder playfully as she sets down the rest of the groceries. She moves to the cupboard above the stove and pulls down a medium saucepan. She turns on the sink and fills the saucepan about halfway, eyeballing the measurement, since this particular step didn't exactly require precision.

As she lights the stove, she calls for Cat to reach to the top of the cupboard closest to him and grab her a medium-sized glass bowl. She could've reached it herself at her height, but he was closer and wouldn't have had to reach as far as she would have, so why not put him to use? Besides, he has to earn his chocolate somehow. As he passes her the bowl, her fingers brush his unintentionally.

"Thank you." she smiles sweetly. She stands beside him at the counter while she waits for the water to boil on the stovetop. Sifting through one of the grocery bags, she pulls out four flat blocks of baking chocolate and hands him half. "Alright, we need to unwrap these and then cut them into half-inch squares."

She rolls out a lower drawer, pulls out two sizable knives, and hands him one.

"What a brutal end for the chocolate..." he jokes, feigning pity.

"Yup, and then I'm going to melt it very slowly over a pot of boiling water...Muahahaha!" She cackles.

He shakes his head disapprovingly. "You are pure evil."

"Most definitely," she affirms with a smug smile.

The two stand side-by-side, brutally chopping up chocolate, the air plentiful with the clacks of their knives meeting the wood of the cutting board and witty banter.

Katsume made her way back to the now boiling pot of water. "It's ready. Can you put the chocolate in the glass bowl and bring it over?" she asks him over her shoulder.

She zones out as she watches the water boil, the raging bubbles putting her in a sort of trance. She doesn't hear as Cat approaches from behind her, glass bowl full of chocolate in hand.

He realizes she hasn't noticed him yet, her soil-rich eyes trained on the boiling pot. He knew she had a lot on her mind, and knew that she was leaving soon. He sighs and leans down—a surge of foreign boldness coursing through him—his warm breath ghosting above her right ear. "Only if you say 'please'," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She snapped out of her trance but didn't turn her head to acknowledge him, only an all too feminine 'Please~' as she held her hand out in front of him.

He scoffs light-heartedly and places the bowl in her awaiting hand. "I'm surprised you have that word in your vocabulary."

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "I have many words in my arsenal, believe it or not, but I do have favorites and some I neglect."

He chuckles, deciding to watch her work from his current position. He observes as she jostles the chocolate a bit in the bowl before setting it on top of the boiling pot. The steam—meant to warm and melt the chocolate gently, so as to not burn it like it would've had she put it in the pot directly.

"Sorry," she mumbles softly, and it barely tumbles from her lips, "...one of the words I tend to neglect," she clarifies.

A small spatula sits patiently beside the stove. She picks it up between her strong fingers, stirring the chocolate—folding it delicately over itself—carefully, so no sections are left to sit in the heat for too long.

"And 'thank you'," she continues, "I'm sorely bad with those too."

She stares blankly at the chocolate in the bowl, but her hands move expertly without her attention, as if on autopilot. Like she's done this a hundred times and it's simply muscle memory at this point.

He's not quite sure if those words were meant for him... or for someone else. Cat leans on the wall beside him, still watching silently over her shoulder as she folds the chocolate absent-mindedly, hoping she'd continue and divulge her thoughts to him.

"I've realized recently that I'm pretty selfish, a bit self-absorbed as well. Which, I guess, are basically the same," she said finally.

It didn't seem as though she was talking to him but more so speaking her thoughts out loud. He let her talk to the world—to herself maybe—simply listening.

"I bottle up my emotions so much that they erupt out of me with the slightest touch. If by some miracle they don't erupt, they eat, and eat, and eat at me until I'm nothing but a hollow shell. Then the cycle starts again."

His boot touches hers, just to remind her that he's still there—a gesture that said, he had no intention to interrupt and she can keep going if she needs to. It lingers beside hers, giving her an encouraging tap ever so often.

Her grip tightens on the handle of the rubber spatula. "I've been a pretty shitty friend to you. You think I can't see the way you look at me?"

He stiffens, and his foot stills mid-tap.

"How you're always there, even when you have no orders to do so. I see it...even though I can't see your face, I can hear your body lighten—the change in your aura—feel it lighten, before you've even approached me. It radiates, and it's almost blinding. But I've ignored it. Because I'm selfish; because I like the fun we have; because I have no will in me to add another pile of emotions to my already full plate."

His eyes are blown wide beneath his mask, and for once, he's thankful for it.

"Katsume, I'm so—."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she cuts him off, "I'm the emotional invalid. Those words—the ones I tend to neglect—were for you."

She wipes the spatula on the side of the bowl after one last stir, then moves the pot to another burner. "I know the reason you haven't said anything is because you sensed that I have feelings for Kakashi. And yet, you stuck around, enduring that pain—the same pain I have now because I can't bring myself to admit what I feel for him." Her eyes start to brim with tears he's never seen before, and he thinks his heart might stop entirely.

She chokes out a sob—hand braced on the counter before the stove—and his breathing hitches at the sound. "I–I'm so sorry I can't be that for you. And thank you, for being my friend through your pain when you had no obligation to, and I understand if you decide you don't want to endure that pain anymore. I understand...and you don't have to. Not for my benefit...Please—."

A heavy fist cranes down on the top of her head. Mimicking what she's done to him some time ago after he'd bowed to her in apology the night he'd caught her sneaking out of the hospital. Her head snaps to him wide-eyed in utter shock that he'd just whacked her.

"Shut the hell up, damn it!" Cat curses under his breath and rubs at his head in frustration. "I didn't realize you could sense it..." He looses a few more curses, before he turns to her—features still locked on him in shock—and flicks her on the forehead.

She curses at him and rubs her head to ease the light sting. "What the hell was that one for?" she hisses.

He snaps, "For being a dumbass! I'm not going anywhere. My...feelings...are not your fault, nor are they your burden to bear. How I dealt with them was supposed to be my problem..." He lets out a heavy sigh. "But you were right; I didn't tell you because I knew you felt something for Kakashi. I could've fought against it and told you how I felt before he ever got a chance, but I see the way you look at him–and it's not the same way you look at me. So I kept it to myself. I figured I'd tell you eventually—sometime down the road when I'd already gotten over it and moved on and we could just laugh it off...

"So stop feeling guilty for me..." Cat sticks his fist out in front of her, watching her expectantly.

She stares at his fist—hovering in the air— for a moment before her rich-soiled eyes flicker to him and she places her fist on top of his with a soft smile.

He smiles down at her fist. "That's not how you fist bump..."

"Shut up and get the strawberries...

Please~"

___________________________________________________________________________

"I don't know about this Sakura..."

Kakashi stares baffled at the large poster sign that reads, 'Be my girlfriend!' in bright pink lettering. "It seems a little overboard...and not really her style."

Shortly after he and Katsume returned to the village from their mission, he enlisted Sakura's help to aid him with his confession. Since then, his anxiousness had prevented him from speaking with his co-sensei for more than a few minutes, for fear of saying the wrong thing, or worse, nervously blurting out his feelings. He's never been in a predicament such as this before, so seeing how Sakura always pined after Sasuke shamelessly, he guessed she might have some idea of how he felt. Though, looking at what she came up with...maybe he should have been more specific...

The pink-haired girl gasps. "But it's adorable Kakashi-sensei! Plus, it'll make sure the whole village that she's yours!" She clasps her hands together at her chest as she swoons with the thought of her senseis relationship reflecting that of a fantastical romance novel.

...

That doesn't sound too bad...No. It's too much. Especially, if she doesn't accept it, then I'll just look like a fool.

"I know you worked hard on the sign, and I appreciate it and all...but I think I need something a bit more...low-key." Kakashi had no idea what to expect when Sakura dragged him to the training field with the implication of some great project she'd been working on, but it certainly wasn't this. It seemed she put a lot of effort into the bedazzling sign, but it was simply too much. "Thank you, truly though."

Maybe I should've gone to Kurenai... he ponders.

Sakura sighs. "Alright, maybe I got a bit carried away. I'm just so happy for you guys... I want it to be special!"

"I know." Kakashi pats her head reassuringly. "Thank you again, but I think I should just go forward with my original idea."

"What? The picnic?" she questions, horrified. "Doesn't Katsume-sensei deserve something spectacular though?"

"Well, yes...but that's why I wanted–" he starts, but her squeal cuts him off.

"Yes, yes, I remember now!" She cheers. "If you think that's what she wants, then I guess I can work with that..." She pulls a small hand-held notebook out of her utility belt and starts jotting down a list. "Alright, I'll need you to get these things, then once you have them, I'll set everything up. Mark my words, this will be the best confession ever!" Sakura rips the paper along the serrated edge and hands it to him.

As Kakashi looks it over, he sighs softly. He probably shouldn't question her judgment, now that she's finally agreed to his plan. Who knew a confession would be so expensive...

Sakura takes off quickly down the road back to her apartment, seeing as it's almost dinner time, yelling over her shoulder, "Make sure to get everything and I'll be sure it's all ready for tomorrow!"

"Yes ma'am!" Kakashi chuckles.

His eyes widen expansively as her words finally sink in.

"W–Wait...tomorrow?!"