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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twenty-three, Hidden Up Her Sleeve
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THE FINAL ROUND OF THE CHUUNIN EXAMS HAD ARRIVED FASTER THAN ANTICIPATED. Despite all the training Izumi had undergone in the time between the two rounds, despite the reassurance given to her by her family and Kakashi, she still felt unprepared, as though she were running into the blade of a sword. She didn't consider herself weak or untalented, but her usual confidence had been blown away, leaving her with only scraps of it.
Her spirits were running low as she watched her teammate be the one to fight first, panic coursing through her every time a name familiar to her was called.
Chihiro stood shaking as he faced his opponent, figure uncertain. From the sidelines she could see how his hands trembled as he weaved the necessary hand signs, eyes squeezing shut in moments of fear. To his disadvantage, his opponent was fierce. Quick and determined strides were followed by powerful attacks, almost all hitting. Not even his multiplication jutsu was able to aid Chihiro with his goal to win. On too many fronts he was defenseless, at the mercy of his opponent. With a trembling hand raised high, he lost, shame drowning his features.
As soon as he was near her Izumi wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. At the much-needed contact, a sob racked through his body, his entire frame shaking at the impact of it. His shoulders trembled and his arms snaked around Izumi to pull her closer. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, seeking the comfort his friend provided. Soon another pair of arms engulfed him from behind, softly nuzzling into his frame. Quickly the last part of the team joined, arms attempting to embrace all her students.
"Shh, you did your best," Kushina ran her hand through his hair softly. "You did your best."
To have seen him fight terrified Izumi. Would her fight be the same? She dreaded her own battle. Even with her trick up her sleeve, a win was a fever dream.
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