Dress. 《Kakashi Hatake》

Dedication one-shot for the wonderfully lovely, xunwritten. ♥

Created by HimaRules on Saturday, April 30, 2011

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“This love and these wounds were nostalgic; now, they are a cherished pain.”


There was a certain responsibility you knew you would have to persevere, the moment you chose to lead the life of a ninja.

Although the decision was a rather easy one to make in the end, you knew far too well how difficult the verdict of such an important matter truly was to make. Within constant temptation of leading a secularly normal life stemming from a far more mundane livelihood, just as your family persistently insisted upon you ― the answer would always be the same.

Sparing an evanescent moment to glance properly at an awkwardly clustered shrubbery of ambrosia flowers, your eyes fleetingly warmed at the mere sight.

Perhaps, a month or few back, you would have found yourself immediately paralyzed with anguish. Undoubtedly, you would have felt the unshakable need to keel over and allow every unnamable sentiment flooding you cloud your judgment.

Not too long ago, you would have found yourself dying in the hands of the enemy you were sent to kill off.

However, such was not the case now.

The ephemeral instance slipped on by, your [e/c] eyes refocusing onto the oncoming horde of rival Ninja’s. Hand nothing near unsteady as you skillfully clutched your Kunai, you stopped for a moment, readying your stance. A second passed, before another and yet another ― when, finally, your mind was completely set on your previously assigned task ― and you charged against your foes with nothing short of prowess.

“What are these for, Kakashi?”

The clanging of metal against metal was now comforting, the constant and almost rhythmic screech of it ameliorating.

“Hmm? What do you mean, “what”?”

Your heart picked up its pace when you found your right hand gripped roughly in the enemy’s hand, fending off his attempts to break it before retaliating and freeing yourself with a precise roundhouse kick to his stomach.

“Well, I can only hope you understand what I’m going to assume of this.”

A soft chuckle, and your brows furrowed ― then again, you could only blame your uncertainty.

Breathing in a copious amount of air, your formerly serious face slowly transcended to that of a smile. Notwithstanding its lack of major brilliance, the soft look it now portrayed you with was more than enough to make up for it as you walked over to the ambrosia bush.

“Ah, is that where it’s coming from?”

Frowning, rather indignantly, you prodded, “What are you talking about ―”

“― this sudden hesitance of yours, obviously.” he skipped a proffered beat, allowing the silence to cling only a moment too soon, before adding, “If so, then please rest assured that this is no joke of any kind.”

Flushing a peach nearly matching - if not rivaling - the hue of the bouquet grasped precariously in your hands, you scoffed in response.

He only smiled, leaning over to kiss your blushing cheek, an intermittent tenderness apparent.

Pulling your knife back and stuffing it into your holster, you delicately held the few matured flora with an innocently placid expression upon you.

“Then I guess that forces me to believe you, you sly dog.”

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