They're on a mission in Rain, on the outskirts of Hidden Sand, just the two of them. He doesn't remember what exactly their goal was or why they were there, only that he will never forget that day.
It was growing dark, he remembers, and - surprise, surprise - beginning to rain. He and Sakura had made quick work of setting up camp, each with their own individual tents. But they had not lied down ten minutes before he heard the rustling of cloth, and Sakura's faint whispers carrying over the sound of the pattering rain.
"Psst. Kakashi."
He hardly pays her any mind - not even so much as bothering to blink his eyes awake - for he knows that whatever it is, she's already won; he'd learned a long time ago not to argue with the Godaime's apprentice; or her determination.
"There's a hole in my tent," she goes on to say, as though that alone is all he needs to hear. He merely "Hmms" in response, and so she continues with a further explanation. "It must've ripped when I brushed that tree branch when we were back there on that path a while ago. Mind if I bunk with you?"
This gets his attention, and not only Kakashi's eyelids, but his entire body shifts up to focus on the blackish/blue image of his former student, crouched beneath the flap of his tent. Her pink hair is stark against her surroundings, dark as they may be, and he can't ignore the way she's leaning inside in quite an overly enticing way. He knows she's not doing it on purpose, but she would truly be a fool to think that in his perverted mind her pose would fail to keep...certain images from assaulting his imagination. Still, it is dark, and he's endlessly thankful for the fact.
Seconds go by, enough time for a thousand tiny drops of rain to pitter-patter against the roof of his tent, and though he does mind (very much, in fact) Kakashi knows that when Sakura Haruno wants something - no matter how trivial a thing or how politely she asks - she is not to be denied.
Rather than an actual response, the silver-haired sensei (former sensei. He keeps having to remind himself) scoots off to the side and lets her in. Sakura accepts this invitation quite gracefully, though he supposes he should expect nothing less from the world's next Legendary Sanin. Still, though; he can't help the wave of heat that floods up his neck and into his head as she sidles up beside him, hip jutting out above the dip of her waist like a hill that gives way to long, long legs that scream against the dark around them with their paleness. And as they settle for sleep, he can only think of one thing: Kami, is he thankful for the dark.
"Thanks," Sakura sighs, using her arm as a pillow as she shifts to her side.
Kakashi swallows. "Any time."
His throat is so dry...he hopes she can't actually detect the difference in his voice. He rolls over so that his back is to her and he has nothing but canvas wall to stare at. This may very well be the death of him. Up til now, he had successfully hidden the blatancy of his feelings (though blatant only to him, for none but Yamato had ever suspected), but now, he would have to hide his reactions. And on a mission, nonetheless. The one place he'd always assumed he'd be safe, covered by the protective blanket of professionalism.
What a silly thought that was now.
The silence that ensues is awkward, but he eventually relaxes once he realizes that it's only him that's feeling it. Sakura is asleep within minutes, and Kakashi is left alone with his tense muscles and guarded thoughts. He doesn't know how much time passes - maybe an hour, maybe three - but he cannot shut his brain off in order to finally sleep. He knows it to be counterproductive, and Kakashi Hatake has always been one for efficiency during missions, and yet he is unable to force his body to shut down for the night and rest up for the day ahead.
It's like coaxing a bull into a pen, but eventually he forces himself to roll over towards Sakura, thinking that maybe changing positions will help. He is surprised to see she is turned over as well, facing him with closed eyes and a peaceful expression. He momentarily freezes, shocked to find her so close; had she been that close before? He can't remember.
He lies there a few minutes, watching, and just when he begins to relax she goes and does the strangest thing; Sakura slowly lifts her left hand, as though reaching for something he can't see - past him, beyond him - and spreads her fingers in a mime-like manner.
At first he thinks she's awake and doing it on purpose, but the longer she stays that way, and the longer he listens to her breathing, he comes to the realization that she's fully asleep.
Dreaming, he thinks.
He's not entirely sure what drives him to it - perhaps it's the thrill of the moment or the simple curiosity - but he slowly raises a hand to meet hers, the skin of his fingertips bright against the darkness as he inches closer to her open palm.
The calloused pads of his fingertips brush against her delicate, feminine ones, and the sound of the rain falling around their tiny haven fades away the longer he stares at her.
It's a strange feeling, touching another human being in such a gentle manner, and he can't remember the last time he'd felt a simple brush, a pat on the back, a hand in his own. After Rin, he'd always assumed he would be alone for the remainder of his life, never even thought about having a life partner. He'd have friends, of course, and they'd come and go, but in the end, no one was watching out for him, and he would always be on his own.
But now, as he stares at his ex-student's sleeping face - significantly more weathered and mature than it had been, but still beautiful in his eyes - his former thought process is forced to change.
He feels her heartbeat through their joined fingertips - it's the strangest thing but so very comforting - and his own heart palpitates.
He almost laughs; it's just so funny. Of all the places, of all the countless ways and scenarios and far-off futures he'd imagined for himself, Kakashi has never pictured achieving peace anywhere in the world except sleep, deep sleep, the kind you don't wake up from. To finally sink under those dark waters and be rid of this world and all its troubles and pains forever.
True, he's allowed himself to let his mind wander from time to time, when he was bored or lying in a hospital bed where he had nothing else to do but think, to conjure up fanciful scenarios in which he meets someone, or finds something, or stumbles across someone. Most of the time he was able to simply lose himself in his novels, but given Jiraiya's particular subject matter as of late, he's been unable to do so.
Part of him wants to reject it, to take the feeling in his chest and toss it out, bury it where it could never be found again; for what forces in this world could possibly want happiness for the likes of him? It was always a trick. A short-lived moment that he hesitantly clung to, only for it to be ripped away in the end regardless. Why should this be any different?
Sakura's fingers shift and curl around his own, entwines their hands together and squeezes, takes a sharp intake of breath. Still asleep. Still at peace. He relaxes, heaves a long, quiet sigh himself, and gently squeezes back.
For the first time since he was a boy, Kakashi knows peace, and he does not fear death.
