In Yamanaka Izumi's thoughts, he was omnipresent.
━━ in which Kakashi's childhood friend just can't
seem to let him go and provides him with the love he secretly craved.
KAKASHI HATAKE/OC
PRE-CLASSICS
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seven, The Genin
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"CONGRATULATIONS ON BECOMING A GENIN, Kashi!" Izumi gave him a big smile, her eyes crinkling from the size of it. "I knew you could do it."
Just mere hours ago, the silver-haired boy had walked into the academy to take his exam, only to then walk out later, now a Genin. Around his head was now tied a navy headband, indicating his status as a Shinobi of the Hidden Leaf. The moment he had stepped out of the building, strides confident and laced with determination, Kakashi had been swarmed by classmates, eager to congratulate him. Patiently, Izumi had waited for them to be done before she walked up to her best friend, a bouquet of flowers in hand.
When Kakashi had laid his charcoal eyes on her, the first thing he noticed were the flowers she was clutching tightly, fingers curled around the beige paper. It made him question how exactly she had known that he would be made a Genin today and how she had got her hands on so many flowers, the action going unnoticed by him. At the same time, he couldn't help but wonder if she simply knew he would make it, that he would succeed.
"These are for you!" With the smile he had grown used to seeing on her, Izumi held out the bouquet to him to take.
He reached out, taking the flowers into his hand. "Thank you for the flowers."
Izumi smiled at him excitedly. "Of course, Kakashi! How could I not? You have just graduated, after all."
His charcoal gaze was fixated on the delicately arranged bouquet in between his hands, the heavy weight of it being a constant reminder of its existence. And then there was the fact that through its sheer size, it limited his vision. The first type of flower which caught his eyes was the overwhelming amount of yellow roses in the bouquet. Among them other flowers he couldn't quite name.
Kakashi thought back to what she had told him about a year ago in the Yamanaka flower shop. 'Flowers do have their own language. Every flower has a meaning, they express something.' He briefly remembered her talking about yellow roses, the same flower that he now also found in the bouquet he clutched tightly. It stood for friendship.
