The Daimyo's Daughter

True Strength

When you'd stopped on the steps to wait for his answer, Kakashi had wondered why you'd put so much attention into one simple question. However, entering the palace had been answer enough.

They swarmed like flies on a carcass as soon as you entered the building and clasped on like leeches. A guard wanting to do a health check. Another demanding to know where you'd been. The maids already fussing over the dirtied dress and your unclean feet. Some were demanding to know when you'd eaten last, what they could stuff inside you now.

It was too much. Enough to make Kakashi inwardly want to flinch away. But you took it all with that same sophisticated neutrality, directing questions, commands, and refutes with expert precision. You could throw words the way he threw kunai, and for the first time, he was truly grateful for his retirement from the ANBU. This, meeting people like you, was the life that he wanted.

It was selfish. He knew it was selfish to enjoy the work rather than solely focus on the duty. But Kakashi couldn't find it in his heart to admonish himself. Not after meeting you.

But all his companions were not as pleasant as you, and Tetsu descended on him with fervor as soon as you stepped into the bath.

"You embarrassed me in front of the princess, Hatake. You've probably ruined my chances with her!"

He'd had enough of all the claiming crap going around lately. You were more than capable of making your own decisions, and he certainly wasn't the deciding factor in anything concerning your heart. So he laughed a dull, emotionless laugh. "Funny. She said earlier that she doesn't want to sleep with you."

Tetsu's gaze grew from fiery to accusatory in an instant. "Are you sleeping with her?"

"Hm?" Kakashi asked, not bothering to glance up from the Icha-Icha novel he was reading. "No, I've never had sex."

Maybe at a different time, he would've been embarrassed by that statement, but he wasn't now. He'd dedicated himself to his village, to the ANBU. He had never had the time for sex or love, and that was okay. At twenty, Kakashi had lived a life of servitude to his village; that was more of a badge of honor than sex ever would be.

But, hey, a guy can dream, right? So, he dove into Icha-Icha with renewed fervor. Though, no matter how interesting the chapters were, a part of his mind always stayed firmly focused on your chakra signature flickering, unpolished but steady, from the other side of the doorway. Even though he couldn't see you, he could hear the way the maids chattered around you, insisting on how to tie your hair and what nightgown to put you in. Some even demanded that you not wash yourself.

The situation made Kakashi cringe. To have people insist you couldn't handle washing your own feet? To not be able to choose even the clothes you slept in? It sounded like a nightmare. But you took it with the same grace and sophistication that you took everything else with. Like the sun, you remained unwavering.

Though he tried to continue with his book, Kakashi's mind kept wandering back toward the conversation the two of you had shared. I'm not the Daimyo's daughter. How jarring that had been. Kakashi would've pounced in an instant if it hadn't been for the analytical side of himself demanding that he wait for an explanation.

It made sense, though. The steely relationship between the Daimyo and his wife, and the way they so carelessly regarded you when they assumed they were in private.

Yet somehow, through it all, you were perfectly behaved. Why? It wasn't out of duty; you'd admitted as much by saying you didn't want to become the next Daimyo. Was it pride? Fear? He couldn't imagine you fearing much of anything, but you were also quite difficult to read. Whenever anyone else was around, you wore a mask of respectable or nonexistent reactions. Never once had you behaved differently.