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Kakashi had always been single.
Her whirlwind school days had left him no time to discover the innocent flirtations of the playground.
After that, she had been overprotected by her adult teammates, but not enough to spare her from having to look at her father’s entrails lying on the floor.
She had felt her heart turn to ice, barriers rising around it, and what little feeling remained withering away.
And yet, there must still have been enough left for her to break down following the successive deaths of her two teammates.
At least, she consoled herself, Obito and Rin had been able to reunite in the Pure Lands.
She built higher, stronger walls, numbing anything that even remotely resembled an emotion.
Always too young, always too small, her ANBU teammates kept her out of their conversations or missions involving sex or love.
But she didn’t care, thriving in the assassinations at which she excelled, even if she felt as though she were losing bits of herself with every life taken.
But it didn’t matter, because the village was protected, wasn’t it? So the walls shielding her heart would no longer be tested and would hold until her death.
But Minato and Kushina’s deaths came first, and she broke one last time, unable to piece the fragments of herself back together to function again.
But it didn’t matter, because she was no longer needed as a human. And tools weren’t supposed to have feelings, were they?
And so it was that Kakashi entered adulthood, aimless, uneventful.
Without a romantic relationship.
Oh, of course, she’d had her fair share of suitors, ranging from ANBU teammates to repulsive nobles with wandering hands.
In fact, she was no longer allowed in Danzō’s presence without the Third Hokage’s.
Perhaps her kunai was a little too sharp…
But no one interested her.
Or rather, she didn’t want to take an interest in anyone.
She didn’t want anyone snatched away from her again.
Of course, her reasoning had its flaws and, despite her attitude and the rumours about her, some people stuck around, like Gai.
The young woman was her exact opposite: sunny, cheerful and positive. She had made her presence felt since their earliest childhood and defended her place without flinching, urging her instead to give even more of herself.
She was… an exception, shall we say.
In any case, most people didn’t dare even meet her gaze, let alone enter into a romantic relationship…
Whether it was a bouquet of wildflowers or expensive jewellery, Kakashi knew full well that it wasn’t her heart they were asking for in return.
Sometimes she accepted, sometimes she refused.
But her heart was a graveyard, for those times when she couldn’t visit the graves or the memorial stone, where she faithfully kept the memory of the departed alive.
She strove to rest her Sharingan on bucolic landscapes or scenes of everyday life, to apologise to Obito for the blood and death she was forced to see through her gift.
But nothing lit up her heart anymore, and she hadn’t known how to smile for a long time.
Or, at least, that was what she believed, until a simple reconnaissance mission had her scouring the bars undercover and, in the midst of her search for information, she met a masked woman who made her burst out laughing at the worst attempts at flirting she had ever heard.
But she was on a mission and a seasoned kunoichi. She contented herself with a kiss on the cold porcelain as a thank you before leaving the establishment.
And perhaps it was chance – who would believe that? – or perhaps the world had shrunk since then, but Kakashi crossed paths with this stranger on numerous occasions over the following years.
Despite all her instincts and heightened senses, it was she who spotted her, seeming to appear out of nowhere and invariably taking her by surprise.
As with Gai, she learnt to get used to her presence, as long as it didn’t jeopardise her objectives or her identity, but the masked woman – Tobi – never seemed interested in it, never asking her about it or making superficial remarks (“What’s a pretty kunoichi like you doing here?” “None of your business.” “Okay, are you going to finish the peanuts?”).
But, unlike with Gai, they didn’t just chat like two civilians at the market, and the clothes eventually did come off at some point. But not the masks.
Never the masks.
Of course, they lowered or raised them as needed, but never within the other’s line of sight whilst their tongues were making her see stars.
And that suited them just fine, on the whole.
It was just another transaction, in Kakashi’s eyes, although it was rare for her to go for another round with her lovers – more often their doing than hers.
Unless they started talking about relationships, feelings, or anything more concrete than their shagging. Then she’d put her foot down and make a run for it.
But not Tobi. Or not yet?
In theory, with a big question mark for an identity and her ability to track her down, no matter how many layers of henge or suppressors she applied, Kakashi should have put a stop to what she was having with Tobi, before it could even be called a ‘relationship’ or anything of the sort.
However, for once, she broke the rules she held so dear.
As long as no one knew about the two of them, no one could report her to the T&I, which would immediately treat her as a traitor, racking her brains for non-existent evidence, just for a few kisses.
(Well, okay, more than just a few kisses. But still not a traitor.)
And besides, it wasn’t as if she was in danger of giving herself away through a surprise pregnancy or an involuntary slip of the tongue.
She had, after all, weighed up the pros and cons before throwing herself headlong into this relationship that didn’t even bear the name.
It wasn’t as if Tobi could touch her heart, no matter how many fingers she slid inside her or how far her tongue went when they kissed.
Nor, for that matter, did she have one left.
Unfortunately, the world proved just how wrong she’d been when she left ANBU to take up the rank of jōnin – even though she’d held that rank for over ten years now – and, inevitably, the Hokage dumped a whole bunch of genin on her, until she came across the one trio capable of surprising her and convincing her to teach them.
In their company, she warmed up. Oh, not enough to melt an iceberg! But enough to find herself smiling at their antics or sinking into despair when they came close to death, because of her.
Always because of her.
Her denial had been powerful enough – almost as much as the walls guarding her heart – that she only realised it years later.
She was the common denominator in all those deaths…
(No, it was Konoha, the war, the life of a shinobi…)
Then, she found herself alone again. Abandoned like a bulky object stowed away in the attic.
But Tobi was still there.
She couldn’t explain to her what she was going through, only cling to her like a lifeline, seeking the oxygen she needed in the folds of her skin.
And Tobi welcomed her, with a swirling orange mask and arms always open.
Age – and experience – had tempered them, making their embrace more subdued but even more vital.
They couldn’t see each other as often as they’d like, or as often as Kakashi would like.
So she made sure not to waste a single moment of their meetings.
Their clothes were the only things left standing as she kissed, licked, bit and devoured that body, of which she knew only the taste and the mapped contours, not missing a single detail as she pursued oblivion and surrender just as much as she pursued orgasm.
And Tobi was generous enough to offer them to her, returning bite for bite, not to be outdone.
With the lights out and the masks removed, Kakashi could imagine that the hair she was grasping was black. That the skin she was tasting was copper-coloured. That the single eye bore the Sharingan.
It was simple, imagination.
She hid her tears amidst the pleasure, sinking her teeth into her own lips to keep sealed the one name she truly wished to whisper amidst these embraces.
Then came the inevitable aftermath, where they fumbled through the necessary darkness to get dressed, in silence, occasionally interrupted by Tobi’s amused jibes, to which she replied from time to time.
There was no future between them, just good times and fleeting embraces.
Kakashi knew it, but she clung to it desperately.
Until reality caught up with her in turn, shaking her violently, in the form of her lover wrapped in an all-too-familiar cloak…
Once again, her heart slammed against the walls as she felt herself shatter following yet another betrayal.
She didn’t try to find out, or to understand. She was a kunoichi; she was an enemy. The mission was clear.
No time for sentimentality.
Once again, Kakashi thought that nothing could touch her anymore.
Through bitter experience, she had learnt that those close to her always ended up turning their backs on her, whether through death or betrayal.
She simply didn’t deserve to have anyone live for her.
So she would no longer fight against the tide; she would simply go with the flow.
And so it was that she faced the last person she had discovered she loved. Only for that person to turn out to be the first to have stolen her heart without her even realising it.
“Obito…” she murmured in a broken voice.
She had thrown herself into this war with no desire to survive, only to take as many as possible down with her.
But it was different now, facing her first love, the feeling of having betrayed her and of having been betrayed jostling in her mind.
So she held back her blow, her strength failing her, after she had lunged at her.
Her knees buckled as that fool bragged and called her weak.
But was it a weakness to feel sickened by always having to kill her loved ones with her own hands, to have to fight against them, to have their blood stain her hands with a scarlet glow that only she seemed to perceive?
“Do what you have to do,” she managed.
Her head drooped as she slumped, exhausted. Disillusioned.
What did it matter, really, whether she lived or died? She no longer mattered to anyone, just a vaguely useful tool, with her borrowed Sharingan and her laughable reserves of chakra.
She lowered her eyelid, ignoring the tear soaking through the fabric of her hitai-ate, as she struggled to relax the muscles of her torso, preparing to receive the fatal blow in the least painful and most efficient way.
She might as well not delay the inevitable, because her tensed muscles were blocking the blade!
But nothing came.
Kakashi pushed aside her damned curiosity – it was filling her with too much hope – and instead sank her teeth into her lips, mimicking the act when they slept together.
All this time, she’d been sleeping with Obito, imagining she was with Obito, whilst forbidding herself to cry out his name…
Her life was such a mess.
She opened her mouth again, preparing to hurl a barb she was still searching for, to spur her on.
After all, they were at war; they really ought to get a move on, rather than wasting time on a simple kill!
But the sound of a body falling made her sit up and open her eyes, her reflexes forcing her to go on the defensive.
It was only Obito, kneeling too, facing her, looking defeated, her dōjutsu shifting.
“I can’t do it,” she declared.
“Liar. You’ve killed loads of people, and now you can’t do it? You just want me to beg you, is that it?”
Their eyes met, the disillusioned grey against the heterochromatic pair vibrating with rage.
“Why lie? All I’d have to do is leave you here, alone, without food or water. No matter what happens to me out there, nothing and no one will be able to reach you here.”
She looked mad as she spoke, gripping her opponent’s neck in an iron-like grip.
“What a brilliant idea, don’t you think? You, locked away like a princess in a demon king’s dungeon.”
She tugged at her hair, forcing her to tilt her head as she spoke.
But Kakashi showed no reaction. Neither to the pain nor to her words.
— I’m already dead, Obito. I have no regrets that would make me beg you to spare me or finish me off.
And yet, a faint smile curved her mask and warmed her gaze, for a brief moment.
“But I’m delighted to see you alive and well again. I just would have preferred better circumstances…”
Like one of all those times our bodies became entangled.
They looked at each other, the silence between them strangely comfortable. But, after all, this wasn’t their first time; it wasn’t that surprising.
“Why are you making this so difficult?” Obito finally sighed.
Letting go of me, she rubbed her hand across her face, as if to wipe away the troubles, but Kakashi simply savoured the sight, tracing the scars marking her skin, and particularly the one running across her lower lip; the memory of his touch came flooding back to her, making her blush.
Under different circumstances, she would have teased her, enjoyed pushing all her buttons, just for the pleasure of watching her get furious and shout at her, but this wasn’t the right time.
It never would be again.
It was obvious that if the two of them had gone in, only one would come out.
And, quite frankly, she’d already decided it wouldn’t be her, no matter how things turned out.
“You’re such a pain,” the Uchiwa finally sighed.
The complaint drew only a small smile, barely discernible beneath the mask.
“Are you going to cauterise me?” she joked weakly.
She rolled her eyes, sighing loudly at the attempt.
“I think I actually preferred it when you kept quiet.”
“It’s not as if I spoke much the previous times…”
They were at war. Casualties were mounting on all sides. And she was talking about their future embraces…
It was as if her impending death was making her rethink her priorities.
Kneeling face to face, they stared at each other, finally taking the time.
Without quite understanding why, Kakashi lifted his hitai-ate and lowered his mask, the Sharingan’s tomoe swirling lazily.
But, of course, it wasn’t him that caught Obito’s wandering gaze.
It was rather flattering to unsettle her with something as mundane as a chin…
“See something you like?” she teased him.
“Shut up,” she grumbled, turning her face away.
But Kakashi wouldn’t let her, cupping her cheek in one hand and stroking it with her thumb.
“You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”
All she got in return was a blank stare, clearly unconvinced by her words.
Of course, the kunoichi could see the scars, the different-coloured eyes, the marked skin. But in her eyes, it was the truth.
Obito was a magnificent woman, a shinobi marked by life and her battles, but she had survived them and emerged victorious.
In spite of herself, the former ANBU wanted to undress her to finally see the image that matched the contours she’d discovered with her fingertips or tongue.
She wanted to watch her expression as she let go, as the pleasure built, before she reached the peak, surrendering into her arms like a puppet with its strings cut.
“Your taste has always been dreadful, Bakashi.”
But she hadn’t pulled away from her hand nor looked away, watching her intently.
“As if yours were any better!” she sneered.
What followed became blurred and unimportant, punctuated by the rustling of clothes and insults, disrupted by kisses and moans.
The stone was cold against their skin, heightening the goosebumps caused by their intimacy, hard against tender flesh and firm muscles, dry beneath their shared fluids.
Kamui wasn’t meant to serve as a love nest, but the two lovers didn’t care, focused on each other’s bodies and satisfaction, oblivious to the current situation, to their personal grievances and those against the outside world.
It wasn’t as if their romance stood the slightest chance outside their bubble, making them greedy, insatiable and desperate.
“Let me finish the plan and rule the world,” Obito whispered in her ear. “I’ll bring it to our feet, to your feet; you’ll be my queen, my empress…”
“Try dominating me first,” Kakashi objected, kissing her. “And I only want you at my feet.”
No amount of persuasion could make her waver, but that only bothered the Uchiha in part. That was exactly what the woman of her life was like, and that was exactly how she loved her. Upright and loyal, even with her brain mushy from all the orgasms she’d wrung from him.
They were at peace. Aching. They were cold, hungry and thirsty. But they focused solely on each other, aware that the time allotted to them was drawing to a close.
That this would be their first and last time, with their faces uncovered, their hearts laid bare; no matter how events unfolded, it was unthinkable that they would both emerge unscathed.
“So, this is goodbye…”
But it was too heavy, so they kissed instead, weeping bitter tears and clasping their hands as tightly as they could.
“Don’t forget me…”
“Never.”
Kakashi had always been single, but she saw herself above all as a widow, her heart colder than ever.