Another Long Story

TW: **mentions of suicide**

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A roll of her neck. Her firm hand came up to massage her sore muscles under the collar of her leather jacket. Katsume let out a low groan as her other hand grasped a grocery bag stacked with the chocolate strawberry assortments she'd made the night before. The mid-day sun bared down on her, casting a halo over her ivory tresses as its heat threatened to melt her carefully crafted delicacies.

She'd figured it was only a matter of time before Jiraiya returned from his intel mission, but when one of his messenger toads hopped onto her second-story balcony earlier this morning—by means she wasn't sure she should question—and informed her of Jiraiya's arrival in the village, she set out to say her goodbyes.

Well...sort of.

She intended the strawberries as terms of her farewell, attached small notes to the bronze silk ribbons of each one. However, seeing Jiraiya's toad made her departure feel all the more imminent. Real. The toad also informed Katsume that her father had a few matters to attend to—speaking with the Hokage being at the top of the list—and they would leave once Naruto returned from his own mission with Team Eight.

She had no idea he'd even been sent out...Some chaperone she is...

It's likely they'll choose to leave first thing in the morning instead of tonight. She was a bit relieved but also wasn't looking forward to hiking at the ass crack of dawn.

Katsume's honey-brown eyes trailed down to the bag in her left hand, the steady ache in her chest growing to thud painfully against her ribs. This was her decision, but she's never had to say goodbye before.

She'd never been the one to leave people behind—only ever been alone.

Or the one being left behind.

Katsume let out a sigh and flashed into a blur onto the rooftops. She strode along the ledges, certainly giving any villager who spotted the white-haired woman a minor heart attack as she teetered on the edge of life and death—in their eyes. To her, it wasn't even a forefront thought. Casual, as she placed one foot in front of the other, paying no mind to the steep drop on her right to the village roads two stories below.

She was in no rush, but she didn't linger around the homes of her friends as she placed a box of strawberries on the doorstep, knocked, then flashed away before the doors creaked open. She meandered to the next, repeating the process. Then the next, and the next...

A personalized note—left on the top of each box:

To Sakura– Kick some ass. Specifically, my mother's.

To Anko– Help yourself to my booze. Be a good girl and share.

To Kurenai– Don't let Anko drink my booze by herself, and help yourself to my closet.

To Asuma– You and Kurenai better be together by the time I get back.

To Guy– I promise to give training my all and more. Keep an eye on that idiot.

To Iruka– Don't worry too much about Naruto. I'll be there for him.

To Genma– I'll let you pay for the drinks next time.

Short and semi-sweet.

She can't have them missing her too much. And she figured it was better than nothing at all. Guilt's ravished her over the past few months—for Cat; for being silent about her departure; and now for her shitty way of saying goodbye. Building and building. They deserve better for all they've done for her—accepting her as their own. It was utterly pathetic, she knows, and unbelievably selfish.

As it turns out... she's no better than Tsuande.

The thought churned her stomach.

Her gaze falls to the box in her lap—the only one not donning a vague semi-sweet note. Just beyond, her feet dangled over the ledge of the rooftop of his apartment.

Just one left.

She'd been sitting here for quite some time. An hour, maybe a few. She wasn't sure. Long enough that the sun was starting to make its own grand departure from the sky, painting it a clear, cloudless gradient of coral and golden-shimmered orange along the horizon of the fall-colored forest.

Katsume debated for a long while whether she should say goodbye to Tsunade.

Maybe she's been too hard on her...or maybe she's getting exactly what she deserves. She was often at war with herself on the subject. Tsunade's not a monster. She knew that, but it was much easier to see her that way—to place the blame. In all honesty, she was just a young woman that made a horrible, life-altering mistake, or a difficult decision, or whatever. Maybe Katsume had been better off with the Old Bat. Or maybe, had things been different, she could've experienced a family without ever knowing the loneliness of being without one.

She was so tired of 'maybe's. Would throw them off this roof if she could.

But from what Katsume understands now...Would she have had that family she dreamed of if Tsunade had never abandoned her? During the Third Great Shinobi War—the war her parents, Kakashi, and all her friends fought in—Katsume was eleven, tucked away in a country-side cottage. Competent in fighting, but still just a child. Trying but failing desperately to keep the only person who's ever given two shits about her alive just a little bit longer. Even as her heart pulled her away to the outside—to assist the foreign ninja stationed in her peaceful land—the Old Bat told her over and over,

"It is not our war. Our war...is to live, my sun."

Had she been born and raised in the Konoha, it would have been her war. She would have, eventually, had to fight in that war had she grown up going to the ninja academy like her friends did—Anko, Kunrenai, Asuma, Guy, and...Kakashi. She'd have fought alongside them. Experience the horrors and trauma of a battlefield. Watched, as familiar and unfamiliar faces of anguish perished beneath kunai, shuriken, and katana, and litter their homeland with their lifeless bodies.

Did Tsunade want to spare her that life—the life of a Shinobi?

A life that often ended too early.

The pain of seeing her loved ones and colleagues exhale their final breath in her arms as she cried, drenched in blood that was and wasn't hers. Forced to leave their bodies behind to continue fighting a seemingly endless battle, unable to even provide them a proper burial for the lives they'd sacrificed for their land.

Her eyes catch the slowly descending sun's rays, setting the irises aflame in streaks of amber as her gaze refocused over the tree-lined horizon. Watched as unburdened village-goers retreated to their homes, and children waved to their friends as they head in for suppertime.

"Captivating, isn't it?"

The copy-ninja's voice was husked in amusement, a soft caress to her ears.

Katsume doesn't turn to him, though he had actually caught her off guard this time. An impressive but unsurprising feat for the experienced jounin. The hollow smile she wore didn't crease the skin beside her flame-bearing eyes as she responds, "Always."

Kakashi hums softly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were waiting for me."

"More like I was waiting for me." A breathy, dry laugh.

His eyebrows furrow. There's something wrong. She may not always talk about what is eating her, but it's always clearly written on her features—in her tone. He'd told her once or twice, which was probably why she wouldn't face him.

He strides over to her on the ledge. "You're not thinking of jumping, are you?" A joke, laced with a hint of concern.

"Not now. But I used to."

Silence.

Those words were wretched to him—his heart sank to his stomach at the thought of her at such a low point that she'd even consider putting an end to it all. A time when her smile didn't grace to appear.

"I'm not gonna jump. Don't worry," she repeated, but his silence claimed that he didn't really believe her. "I'd survive the fall from this height anyway. I'd need a much taller building." A snort, as she tries to lighten the mood.

"That's not funny, Katsume." His expression was stone cold, his tone even more so. But he sighs anyway as he sits on the ledge beside her, his back to the horizon. He desired to see her face—more so than the view. "What are you doing up here then?"

"Just wanted to visit my friend," she said sweetly, batting those long pale lashes.

He snorts. "Well, here I am. Unless you have other friends I don't know about that live in my building."

A small chuckle from her sent a wrinkle of relief washing over him, and only then does he notice the small, lovely tied box in her lap. "What's that." A jut of his chin in its direction.

She passes it to him. "It's for you. Just some strawberries from the farmer's market yesterday."

He takes the box with a raised brow, lifting the top to curiously examine its contents.

"I made chocolate-dipped ones, but since your not a fan of sweets, I just left them as is."

And yet she still presented them as if they had been, the masked ninja noticed. Like a gift—perfect strawberries that were washed, assorted, and individually placed in little cupcakes wrappers—delicately tied with a bronze silk ribbon that complemented the dark brown box.

Indeed, he doesn't like sweets...

But he'd never told her that.

All those times they'd gone to the bakery for dangos before training, he'd never ordered a plate for himself. Only ever sneaking one from Katume's—particularly to annoy her.

"Thank you." He smiled warmly at them and plucked one out, setting the box to the side. "I would've still eaten them."

She returned his smile. "I know."

"So," he started casually, "What's the occasion?"

Kakashi lowers his mask for just a moment, eating most of the small fruit in one bite before it's back in its place again as he chews. She'd turned her attention back to the horizon anyway.

"I'm leaving."

He chokes. The strawberry—in a desperate battle with his throat—finally goes down after a few pounds of his fist against his firm chest.

His head snaps to her. Half-breathless, he said, "What do you mean, you're leaving?"

Katsume doesn't meet his wide, panicked eye—dark and abyssal, but swirling with emotion as it flicked over her features in search of answers. Her hands only fold over themselves unconsciously. "I'm leaving to train with Jiraiya and Naruto... for two years."

Silence fell over them like a wet blanket once more, save for the buzzing of the street lights that came to life one by one, slowly illuminating the village below as the promise of night crept up on them.

He watches as her strained gaze remains on the horizon, her jaw feathering as she held her emotions on a tight leash, despite their insistent pull on her resolve. The sea of orange and pink shifted to soft magenta and lavender, and the first specks of stars began to peek out from the west. All he could do was stare at her.

She's leaving. She's leaving...and she'll be gone for two years. He recited the information over and over in his mind.

His onyx eye searches her face. For something—he's not sure what—maybe a sign that she's joking. Just a cruel...cruel joke. He even debated for a moment if he should use his visual prowess to see deeper, more clearly, but ultimately he decided against it. There was nothing. Her features are far from playful—her ivory brows are knit together; her usually pink, plush lips are pressed hard into a thin line; and her aweful, golden-soaked eyes refused to look at him. Kakashi clenched his fist to keep it from jutting out to her chin, keep it from turning her face to him so he could see her better—analyze and search those ambers, for they cannot withhold the truth from him—but his hand relaxes again.

"When?" he breathes out, barely above a whisper.

Katsume's eyes start to glaze with the threat of tears at the hurt and confusion in his tone. But if she moved—even a tilt of her head to blink them away—she'd explode. Explode into a hysterical mess that'll damage her pride and expose all her secrets.

So, she allowed one to fall. Just one.

Katsume gulped dryly. "Tomorrow," she said, barely above a whisper. "Before dawn."

Tomorrow... Kakashi swallowed it down.

There was a long silence as the sun finally fell half under the horizon, and the not-so-distant darkness threatened to consume them there on that roof.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Kakashi stood up abruptly and reached his hand out to her. "Come on."

She wiped the tear with the heel of her palm and stared at his outstretched hand incredulously. "What?" Then her confusion shifted back to his onyx eye that held something she couldn't place–couldn't sense. "Where?" She took his hand.

He guides Katsume off the ledge, and swiftly wrapped a firm arm around her waist, pulling her tight against his side.

Her eyes widened and a small gasp escapes her lips. "What are you doing?"

A click of his tongue had her eyebrows raised. "Just lend me your hand. Follow my lead."

She looks up at him, then her widened eyes meet that of his hand forming half of a hand sign—Body Flicker—the transportation jutsu.

Katsume stole another glance before she interlaced her hand with his, completing the sign.

A familiar whoosh of nipping wind sent a shiver down her spine, even with the warmth of her thick leather jacket.

Katsume blinked once. Twice. A third time to be sure. When her eyes finally focused, they were as wide as saucers as she looked over the entirety of Konohagakure. The final warm rays of the sunset kissed the land, setting it ablaze with its last farewell as it began to sink below the horizon, giving into the deep violet of the descending night. She watched as the remaining lanterns flickered on all across the village, like a sea of stars. She gaped in awe at the sight from atop the cliff of the Hokage Stone Faces where she stood.

Katsume could see...everything.

Her head turned to Kakashi—straining to tear her gaze from the view— and her eyes finally followed to see his mask pulled off to rest just below his chin as he smiled softly at her reaction down at his side.

He chuckles at her gaping expression, though he wasn't sure which view she was astonished by more. "There's more." Arm still wrapped around her waist, he turns them around to reveal a navy and hunter-green plaid blanket laid across the grass. Sat atop were various platters, but her eyes were caught on all the different flavors of dangos, then on to a large plate of takoyaki. It looked like their picnic spread on the day she spent with Sukea. However—spread wide and encompassing the blanket in a large circle—were candles, whipping and flickering with the lightly chilled breeze.

"W-What is all this?" she finally breathes.

Kakashi shrugged cooly, but he wasn't sure he'd ever heard her stutter before. "I owed you a date...thought I'd do it right."

A smile creases the corner of her eyes. "You did all of this yourself? For lil' ole me?" she pressed, falling into her teasing habit.

"Ah," He chuckled, finally releasing her waist to scratch the back of his neck. "I had a bit of help from Sakura, but...yeah."

Katsume snickered. "I knew you were a hopeless romantic," she taunted, but her heart and smile glowed warmly.

Only for you... he wanted to say. "Well, you nearly ruined my plans," Kakashi scolds lightly, poking her forehead protector. "I was looking for you everywhere...I didn't expect you to be perched on my rooftop." He sighs. "The food might be cold by now. Sorry."

Katsume's hand finds Kakashi's at his side. "Don't be. It's perfect." She smiles up at him and his lips twitch into one in return as his fingers laced loosely through hers.

Katsume faced him, silently analyzing his face—delicately pulling off his headband with her other hand to get a full, unhindered view of him—its smoothness and its lines. The scar, which ran down his silver brow and the blood-red of his Sharingan eye to stop at his cheek; his lashes that flittered to adjust his mismatched eye to the subtle light emitted by the candles; his supple lips and the small beauty-mark lower beside them; his strong jaw that clenched slightly as he swallowed hard under her gaze. Lifting her hand with his headband hanging between her fingers, she stroked his cheek with her thumb. "Thank you." The gratitude fell from her lips effortlessly—unlike yesterday.

Kakashi leaned into her warmth, her subtle touch always melted away his mental barriers, clearing the path for her comfort. "I'm glad it made you smile. I've been missing that recently." He pulls away with a soft smile. Hands still interlaced, he guides her to the blanket. "Let's eat."

Katsume chuckles as he drags her behind him briskly. "Don't have to tell me twice," she says with a cheeky grin.

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"I think I might've liked Tokoyaki better cold." Katsume laughed as she stacked the dirtied dishes.

Kakashi grimaced as she handed him the last of the plates to set back in the picnic basket Sakura prepared. "That's just wrong." He set the basket off to the side and turned to see Katsume making herself comfortable—laying on her back across the plaid blanket to look up at the now speckled sky above, the flickered glow of the candlelight bathing her in their warming hues.

Kakashi smiles and moves beside her, reclining on his arms as his onyx gaze spied skyward as well, toward the bright nearly full moon. A tense silence surrounded them as the high of the surprise began to wear off and give way to the reality they ran from on that rooftop. Even in the peace of stargazing, the unspoken words were slowly eating at their barriers.

"I have a story to tell you..." Kakashi finally broke the silence in soft caution but didn't break his gaze from the sky above.

Katsume turned on her side and propped herself on her elbow as she looked up at him. "A story?"

Kakashi nodded at the stars. "A long story, promised to you on the night we met," he clarified, and his gaze finally fell to meet hers.

Her eyebrows raised as she took in his solemn expression, remembering their interaction that night vividly.

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Katsume let out an exhausted sigh, "Sorry to trauma dump on you, but you asked for it."

She laughed but there was a hollowness in the sound, Kakashi noticed. "Hmm, It was indeed a long story that led into another long story." He returned her laugh anyway.

Katsume brought her knees to her chest again, wrapping her arms around them loosely. She gestured lazily at him as she leaned back. "And you? What is your long story?"

Kakashi chuckled as he moved to stand, patting himself off. "Mm, I'm not much of a storyteller...Maybe on another date."

"Oh? On our third date?" she asked smugly, a light playfulness to her tone.

"Probably not." He said bluntly, laughing as he spoke it. "But maybe on the fifth, or possibly the eighth or the tenth." Kakashi smiled softly, his eye holding all the sincerity he needed. "Not yet...but eventually."

Katsume gave him a gentle smile. "It's a date, then."

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Katsume laid back on the blanket, resting her right hand behind her head as a pillow, the other sliding across to lie reassuringly atop Kakashi's. "Luckily, I've got some time." She smiled up at him warmly.

Kakashi glanced at her hand on his and smiled softly.

And he told her. Everything.

He started from the very beginning and told her about his father—how he was ruthless as a ninja but a kind, honest, and noble man at heart. How Sukumo Hatake would put the lives of his fellow shinobi, his friends, before the mission even when they fought him against it. And how they continued to fight him against it, outcasted him for it...until eventually...the shame—it became too much for him to bare...and his father took his own life. He told her that despite still being revered as a legend and extraordinary shinobi, he was considered a fool. How Kakashi considered him a fool for most of his youth and the shame and guilt he felt when he finally realized his father's morale. When his friend showed him the truth of his shinobi way...

Obito.

Kakashi's heart wrenches and he pauses for a moment to steady his breathing. Katsume's grip tightened on his hand as she sat up, shifting on the plaided blanket to be level with him. I'm here, her warm but firm hold said, It's okay. Kakashi let out a shaky breath as his gaze upturned from her to the darkened, star-littered night. He opened his Sharingan...for just a second as if he could still see him through that eye. Feel the soul of his old obnoxious friend through that eye.

His eye...But he shut it again a moment later.

"You don't have to tell me if it's too hard. I understand." Katsume's voice sounded gently beside him, the most gentle he's ever heard it. Besides that night around the campfire, when she'd thought he was sleeping, and her voice was just as gentle as her delicate touch across his skin as she soothed him from his nightmare.

Kakashi's hand turned from under hers to interlace their fingers once again, stroking the back of her hand reassuringly with his calloused thumb. "I want to tell you. He's the reason I'm the man I am today. The reason I'm here today...with you." He let out a heavy sigh in preparation before he continued.

"I was cold-hearted and apathetic after my father's death, pushed everyone away and focused solely on my studies, on being a competent ninja. When I graduated from the academy, I was assigned to a three-man squad consisting of Minato-sensei—Naruto's father—Rin Nohara, and...Obito Uchiha," he said slowly with his hesitation.

It's probably been too long since he's talked about them—his first real friends. And as he talked about how they all met, how they learned and trained and fought together, Katsume could tell just how much he cared for them and loved their friendship despite his coldness towards it at the beginning, as he explained. Kakashi spoke of them with such simultaneous sorrow and warmth that it wrung the heart between Katsume's ribs. As he spoke of the argument he and Obito had before he sacrificed his life for Kakashi's, the familiar words he repeated to her before, rang in her mind.

"Those who break the rules are scum, but those who turn their backs on their friends...they are worse than scum."

She understood the significance of what he had told her back at the shrine in Kirigakure now, and the relief that filled her when he told that back then, now made her eyes brim as he continued to explain the relevance. His father's shinobi way...was also Obito's. Tears streaked her cheeks unknowingly as he told her about his Sharingan. "Obito's sharingan," he had said as he wiped the tears away from under her moon-glistened orbs.

Kakashi's eyes mirrored hers of sorrow, but his cheeks were dry. He'd expended his share of tears on the subject years ago, and he wondered if he even had the ability to cry anymore. He brushed a few ivory tresses from her face, pushing them back behind her ear as his expression fell.

"Kirigakure placed a jinchuriki inside Rin with the intent to have it unleash within the walls of Konoha. It was a planned attack, and instead of letting herself be the reason for so many potential casualties, Rin..." His voice wavered as her name barely fell from his lips and he paused. His memory flashed and he watched as she intercepted his Chidori. Again and again.

All Katsume could do was watch his eyes close and his silver tresses bob as his head dipped down as he regained his composure. "She saved Konoha that day... All I could do was watch as I killed her...my teammate, my friend." Watch as his Chidori sliced through her chest like a hot knife. Watch as the blood spill from her mouth. Feel the sizzle as his lightning burned away and then cauterized the remaining flesh surrounding his arm. So easy was the life he'd taken unintentionally. The life Rin took for him. The smile she gave him at the end told him that of all people to take it, she was glad it was him. That she was sorry for the way things turned out. A smile he'd come to care for and admire for its strength and kindness. Kakashi let out a strangled breath. "She sacrificed herself for the entire village."

Katsume wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her. One hand found its way to the back of his head as he choked out a short sob into her shoulder, but no tears fell. "I'm so..." she breathed shakily. "...you don't have to go on, Kakashi... I'm so sorry," she whispered into his hair. She couldn't find the right words to say aside from the pathetic apology for all he's been through as her own tears soaked the fabric of his flak jacket, hoping she could manage to soothe him with her touch, at least, as her fingers glided softly along the nape of his neck and into his hair. She cried for him—for his hurt, his suffering, his loss, the utter grief that he'd held so close for so long, letting so few see into his dark. She saw from the very beginning—the overwhelming darkness that lay beneath his stoicism. She didn't know what it was then, but she saw it dormant in his abyssal eye...because it was the same one she held in her own.

Now he laid bare for her.

Finally...his mask was off.

She held him. As long as he wanted or needed, she would hold him. She'd caress her fingers along his cheek, through his hair. Soothingly, her careful gentleness glided over his tense shoulders, and rubbed gentle circles down his back, as he slowly loosened and leaned his weight on her shoulder—finally sharing his burdens with another. Kakashi opened his heart and let it all spill out for her, leaving nothing unsaid, leaving nothing a mystery before she left the village. Well...almost nothing. He let out a heavy staggered sigh.

Katsume brushed her fingers through his moonlit silver strands, softer than the bronze silk ribbon that adorned the now-empty box of strawberries she'd gifted him. "I'm he—" She paused, stopping herself as she remembered. She...wouldn't be here... Not for him. Not for anybody. She's leaving. She's abandoning everyone...abandoning him.

"I'm sorry," she said again, cursing herself as she tightened her grip on him. "I'm so sorry," she repeated barely above a whisper.

Kakashi's grip tightened—heart torn by the weakened tone of her apologies—on her leather jacket, and his eyes and cheeks remained dry. Don't go, he wanted to say, beg her, Please, don't go. I cannot bare the thought of you not interrupting my day. He wanted to plead to her. I cannot bare the loss of light your cheeky smile brought to my days. Cannot bare the thought of continuing to live my life like you didn't crash into it... just to leave me like you were never here. Don't go...

I lov—

He caught himself. No. That's not fair. If he really does...and he'd said those words aloud, she'd likely consider staying. Kakashi knew, despite what he felt, that she needed to leave. He couldn't–wouldn't ask that of her. Not when she's leaving to better herself, to better Naruto in his journey to become stronger as well. It'd be heartless to ask, for he knew she'd probably debated the decision a long while.

However...understanding does not negate the feeling of loss, the longing.

Kakashi inhaled a shaky breath as he lifted his head from her shoulder, her hand falling down the side of his neck to rest above his heart in the motion. His hands cupped her cheeks and his thumbs swiped away the tears she cried for him.

"Skeletons...remember?" he said softly, his eye flicking between hers as his lips twitched into somewhat of a smile. He recalled the time he'd tried and failed miserably to reassure Katsume of her deeds in Kirigakure—after she'd admitted to slaughtering the enemy like animals in a haze of rage. He'd understood her better that night.

"Our hands... they may be stained with the blood we've split...and they may never be clean. Not completely. But...we can make bonds that strengthen us. Ones that will reach out their own burdened hands and pull us to our feet when we've fallen, aid in washing the stains again and again until they've faded. The stains will always be there, but they will fade...become a distant memory. And hopefully, we'll choose to remember those who helped us heal instead. The kids—our students. Our friends. Our village. Those are our bonds, Katsume.

"You... You are my bond." Kakashi finishes, and his hands on her cheeks slide back to hold her head.

His bond...one that aided him in his acceptance, one that eased his pain even just a little. She wasn't sure how exactly she'd managed to do that, but she trusted his judgment...because he'd managed to do the same. A soft smile and Katsume took a shuddered breath, searching his softened features as he slowly leaned forward.

"And you are mine..." she whispered and leaned up to meet him, her hands in a firm grip on the lapel of his jacket, pulling him impossibly closer. "Please. Don't let go," said the selfish voice in her head.

A brush of his nose against her cheek asked permission. The tilt of her chin granted it. And finally...his lips met hers. Short, soft, and gentle—hesitant. Because as much as she wanted to kiss him, she couldn't help the twist in her stomach. But as Kakashi pulled away just slightly to analyze every line and freckle of her face, sharing a breath...another part of her—the knowingly selfish part—doesn't want him to stop...and her lips grazed his again.

His vest's fabric had a familiar roughness as her hands slid up his chest to his shoulders, pressing against him as if to push him away to satiate her mental conflict, but her arms stilled. She would not push him away, not this time. The tenseness in her shoulders relaxed and she allowed herself to melt into his presence. He leaned into her, deep and all-consuming. Their lips moved in tandem with the release of their harbored emotions, molding and melding into each other for this solitary moment. Their hold on one another grew firmer with their need to be closer, heavy with desire for the moment to last just a little bit longer. Because they knew that in the next moment...they would have to let go.

Her lips were so soft against Kakashi's, contradictory to her brash personality, just as he'd imagined. He'd come to admire the softness—the delicacy of her that she tucked away for no one to see. His fingers tangled into the ivory at the back of her head, because despite their connection, he needed her even closer. Needed every ounce of warmth she'd willingly give him as if he'd absorb it and hold a hint of her within him. As if it would make the heavy weight of her absence lighten.

He realized she didn't have a scent to her. None besides a hint of earth, which made him smile against her lips. Because sunflowers only don the scent of the soil they grow in; sometimes sweet, sometimes grassy, and sometimes they even have a nutty essence. The thought made him chuckle inwardly at how perfect for her it was, pressing to relish this moment as long as he could. At this moment, he wanted nothing more than to bask in her essence...the way that flower will always gravitate toward the sun.

Katsume's heart wrenched and her grip tightened on his vest even more so. But...the utter bliss of this kiss denied her any motivation to let go. To push him away because of the unfairness of the situation. The unfairness of indulging in whatever they are only for her to rip it away come sunrise. It was delicious, sweeter than any dango she'd ever eaten. The kind of passion she'd only ever read about in romance novels—caring but full of undeniable desire to be flush against one another, leaving not an inch for thought. Satisfying in a way that cemented their feelings...a fantasy she never assumed she'd be graced with.

Another tear streaked her already-stained cheek. They knew everything and there didn't need to be any more words exchanged to confirm exactly what they felt for each other, and where they would go from there.

They knew.

They knew that when their lips finally parted, reality would crash down once again and they would have separate wholely. For twenty-four months, seven-hundred and thirty days, and seventeen-thousand five-hundred and twenty hours...and more. The inevitable distance would wedge itself between them when the bitter breeze cooled their lips once again. An unpredictable future awaited them—love lost, love found in another, a friendship beyond repair,...death. They knew, so in turn, they silently agreed and took advantage of the present, seizing this minuscule and momentous moment.

Because they knew this kiss...

...was the end.

This kiss was goodbye.

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Her dark combat boots scuffed lazily against the empty dirt road. Chipper early birds sang their praise to the new day, and the pre-dawn sky presented deep, muted blues and violets as the sun was still yet to rise in the east. The leftover chill from the night before arose goosebumps along her skin, even under the protection of her jacket. Two years, she remembered as she approached the village gates where she'd wait for her father and Naruto, maybe three.

Katsume rubbed her eyelids with her index knuckle as a yawn escaped her. She hadn't slept. How could she? She was too tired to think, too tired to dwell on a decision she'd made quite some time ago. She threw off her pack before her back thudded against a pillar supporting the entrance gate—or exit, she guessed, in her case—her arms crossed as she closed her weary eyes. Dakuhosu would probably kill her if she woke him up again. Not for a simple ride so she could nap.

Her senses heightened, hearing those early birds and the rustle of dry leaves in the cool autumn breeze. The refreshing scent of pine nearly made her heart drop to her stomach—at the prospect that he may have come to see her off. She honed in on her surroundings—eyes shut tight, but now in concentration—as she sought out his familiar aura. Nothing. The scent of pine...was just that.

However, her senses pinpointed Jiraiya's essence sauntering over to her before she finally felt his large hand lay gently atop her head, ruffling softly. She cracked open a bloodshot eye as he said in a deep rasp, "Good Morning, sunshine."

Katsume groaned, which earned a chuckle from her father.

"I take it you didn't sleep well." Jiraiya's hand fell from the top of her head to rest on her shoulder comfortingly. "That bad, huh?"

"I'm a terrible friend." She sighed, shaking her head and feeling the weight of her clunky forehead protector tug her tired neck muscles downward.

Jiraiya huffed a chuckle through his nose and patted her shoulder once before it fell back to his side. "We'll be back before you know it, kid. Try not to be so hard on yourself."

Katsume gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded. She's was about to ask where Naruto was, but as if on queue, hurried footsteps and an astonished gasp broke the quiet peace of the morning.

"Hah?! Katsume-sensei? You're comin' too?" The blonde boy had a pack slung over his shoulder, similar to the two adults, and a comically incredulous look on his face as he jogged over to them.

Katsume chuckled softly as he approached and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging the boy into her side in a headlock so she could rub two knuckles into his hair. "Of course! As if I'm gonna trust this old geezer to keep you in line."

Naruto growled, swatting and prying himself out of her grip as Jiraiya let out an offended, "Hey!".

Jiriaya shook his head as he watched Naruto and Katsume—his daughter chuckled and picked up her pack from the ground, slinging it over her shoulder again and Naruto grumbled while rubbing his head, but eventually realized that he'll have two teachers for his training, and pumped a fist into the air with a cheer. Jiraya snorted at the interaction and walked past them before turning around. "You two gonna bicker all day, or can we get going?"

The young woman stepped into stride with her father and Naruto fell into line on the older man's other side, their backs to the village. As the boy bombarded Jiraiya with questions, Katume's senses perked up in notification, and she smiled. Someone...Someone-s... were watching.

Katsume threw a hand up over her shoulder. A 'See you later' rather than a 'Goodbye'.

Jiraiya looked down at her gesture, then glanced back and quirked a white brow. "Who are you waving to?"

Katsume smiled, keeping her eyes trained on the road ahead.

"Home."