Anime Fanfics

Teasing Kakashi #3

When you see Kakashi training his genin students in the famous bell exercise, you're interested enough to join the fun.

His clone is teaching while his real body is hiding in the trees. The kids are none the wiser.

Quietly, you flick a kunai aimed at his face with deadly precision.

His acute senses trigger, allowing him to catch your friendly fire with two fingers.

Instantly you're in his tree, not a branch snapping as you land, light on your feet.

"You again," he whispers.

You put a finger to his lips and his eyes widen briefly.

There's a student running below who cannot sense where you two are. You wait until he passes by to sigh and whisper.

"Do you ever miss those days at the academy?"

"Hmm. Feels like yesterday," he sighs in return.

His eyes are peeled, his attention on his surroundings in case his students surprise him with their tracking skills.

You keep an eye out, too, in case they find the two of you.

"You know, there's still a lot to learn... and I happen to know a lot. I can teach you."

You send a not-so-subtle glance to his lips.

His eyes lock on yours in a curious side-eye.

"Is that right..."

"Mhm," you smirk, sensing his carnal interest. "I can teach you so many things, starting with how to "JUMP EM KIDS HE'S DISTRACTED!"

His eyes go wide as he looks around at his students jumping from their hiding spots in neighboring trees.

They jump him in a cloud of smoke, scrambling to get their hands on his bells as you watch wide-eyed. They definitely are spirited.

When they separate, panting and empty handed, there's only a log where Kakashi once squatted.

"SUBSTITUTION JUTSU," they yell in disappointment. They're resilient enough to keep searching the woods for the real Kakashi-sensei.

In the meantime, you wonder where his real body is.

"Psst," a noise comes from a low bush.

You know it's Kakashi because you recognize his psst. It only takes a look in the direction of the bush. A sprig of white spiky hair sticks out. Then there's his eye.

"Is that lesson still on the table," he whispers.

Tickled, you nod.

"Your place or mine," is his follow-up.

"Mine. Swing by when you finish here."

"Roger that."

There's a rustle of leaves nearby. A kid? You sense someone.

You look back to the bush and sense he's gone.