Naruto One Shots

Mootherhood #2 (Kakashi Hatake)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Pasta69]

Requested by: fireflyglori

Word Count: 3,744

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
- Pregnancy
- Mentions of Blood

———————————————————————
A wave of nausea hits me the instant I walk through the curtains of the Ichiraku Ramen shop. Instinctually, my hand jumps up, pushing my nose closed and covering my mouth in hopes of keeping down the sick feeling. Despite the churning of my stomach, I can't help but smile, the fitness report in my pocket burning a hole through my clothing.
     "Lady Hatake!" Naruto yells, somehow balancing on his stool despite squirming on it. His hand is thrown up in the air, waving wildly like the five steps separating us is an ocean instead of a couple boards of wood. "Welcome home! We've missed you!" He adds with a huge grin on his face, showing off the whiteness of his teeth.
     "Shut up, Naruto," Sasuke grumbles, sparing me a glance before pretending to focus on his menu. For once, Sakura isn't wrapped up in the moodiness of her crush, her excitement of my return shown in the constant shift of her weight and the burning look she's sending her Sensei.
     Kakashi's eye is on me, head slightly turned as he looks me over. Even with one of his eyes covered, not a single thing ever sneaks past him. Not like I'm trying to hide my queasiness. The paleness of my skin and the sweat covering my forehead, like it has every morning for the two weeks of my mission, is an endless and pointless thing to try and hide. "Hello," he mutters, on his feet and heading toward me as soon as his once-over is done.
     "Hello," I echo, the word coming out bubbling because of my still pinched nose.
     A hand is on my waist, another pressed to my forehead when my husband gets to me, the gears in his head turning as he checks my temperature. I'm sure the common illnesses of the Hidden Grass Village are rolling through his thoughts. "You look ill. Did you go to your post-deployment physical?"
     "I did, yes," I murmur, snaking my fingers under the sleeves of his vest, clinging to the material as I avoid looking at my husband's face. I was hoping to share the news when we're home, alone, but at the rate his anxiety is climbing I don't think I'll get to. "It's non-contagious and was contracted on Leaf Village territory." Technically, not a lie, but very misleading.
     Kakashi's eye squints, glancing over me again as he thinks over the explanation. "Cancer?" He whispers, tone even despite the deepness that comes with a disease like that.
     "No. Why is that the first thing you think of?"
     He shrugs his shoulders, both hands squeezing my waist now. "It's usually the sorest lemon on the tree when it comes to my life."
     "I don't have cancer."
     "Are you sure?"
     "I'm sure."
     Another squint and once-over comes before my husband's mouth snaps open again. "I want to see your fitness report."
"No," I hum, pulling myself out of his hold. "You can look it over when we get home."
"I want to see it."
"I said no," I repeat myself, sliding into the empty stool next to Naruto. The fuzz-ball connects himself to me, his arms around my shoulders as he buries his head into my neck, rambling on about their recent D-ranked missions among the village.
"I wasn't asking, Love," Kakashi grumbles, a hiss hidden under his words. "I want to read it, now," he adds, his hand held out, impatient fingers waving to further tempt me into giving him the report.
"You don't have to be so rude, Sensei," Sakura butts in, trying to lecture her teacher.
Kakashi doesn't acknowledge her, refusing to budge until I give in. We stare at each other for a few moments, testing to see who'll give in first. As expected, I give in before he does, digging through my pocket for the folded-up packet. "Thank you," he utters, snatching the sheets from me before I can change my mind.
"Way to ruin the surprise for yourself," I grumble, rolling my eyes at the demanding man.
Kakashi busies himself looking over the report, my focus is on the menu Naruto abandoned, and his students hold their breaths, carefully watching their Sensei read over the packet of information.
After two page flips, I tune into my husband as well, turning my head to watch his reaction. The moment his eye slides over the pregnancy test result line is marked by a small "hmph" clogging his throat. The packet is tipped down, his eye glancing at me before snapping the sheets straight. I carefully watch as he skims the line a few more times, a soft pink slowly starting to taint the tips of his ears and the edge of his mask.
Another glance is thrown my way before Kakashi pushes up his headband, exposing the sharingan that makes up his other eye. A smile curls on my lips as he keeps rereading the line, his chest pumping a bit faster each time.
"Kakashi Sensei?" Sasuke asks, breaking the silence first, a sore look on his face as he carefully examines his teacher. "Are you okay?"
"Oh my, it really is... cancer," Sakura hesitates for a moment, whispering the last word as her hand covers her mouth, tears already welling in her eyes.
"It's not cancer. My wife is fine, great even," Kakashi corrects, tugging his headband back down. "You three go ahead and order lunch. The Mrs and I are going to go on a walk. We'll be right back," he orders with a closed-eye smile covering his features, sadly chasing away the pink that was dusting his skin.
     Before I know it, my husband's hand is knotted in mine, pulling me to my feet and out of the restaurant. The hushed conspiracies of his students echo behind our steps, growing quieter the further away we get. Kakashi doesn't tug me away for long, only trailing me around the side of the building. "You're pregnant," he whispers, gently pushing me against the wall, letting the shadows of the alleyway hide us.
The chill from the bricks stabs through my shirt, attacking my spine. The cold doesn't last for long, quickly chased away by my husband's body heat. Kakashi presses himself against me, head in my neck, arms wrapping around me, and his legs tangling with mine. "You're pregnant," he repeats, the soft words feathering over the skin of my throat. "You're going to be a mom."
"And you're going to be a dad."