Written: 11/21/24
Word Count: 1,963

I worried for several days about how I was going to get in contact with Kakashi to let him know we were going to be stealing from his new allies, but it needn't have mattered.

He came back on his own.

Two weeks.

All together, it had been two weeks since he'd walked out of our lives. The Harvest Moon was only two days away. The neighborhood was alive with Friday night energy, but the wind was almost too wicked to contemplate going out.

It was hard to believe it had been two weeks since I'd last seen Kakashi. Enough time had passed that I didn't immediately deflate and feel like crying every time I thought about him.

In the days since I'd met Talia, and Bella had thrown in her ring with us, we'd been texting constantly. Using code, Bella would inform me of how the "oleander" was faring.

Talia. Talia was the oleander.

I got the impression that Bella was basically the only one who knew where Talia lived, but after the daily texts of things like "the oleander ate all my ramen today," "the damn bird pecked at my window at 5AM for no reason," and "had a customer whip out his wallet and then his pants fell down, guess you shouldn't be a cocky ass if your $4 and a bus pass is needed to keep your pants up" I was both highly amused at Bella the Comedian as well as concerned that Talia was homeless.

I think they were sleeping in shelters, but people could only stay until like seven or eight in the morning before being kicked out for the day. Where was Talia eating? Showering? Spending the winter?

But I couldn't flat out ask, "Which church is the oleander staying?"

Instead, I focused on the updates about Bella's work at the Wolf Den. "Sounds like that fella needs a belt for Christmas."

I honestly thought that without the kids and Bella's random texts, I wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

Kakashi had not checked in once.

I mean, what was that about? Wasn't that a little too unfair? At the very least, were we not friends?

At work, my mind spun. And spun, and spun, and spun.

I dissected the night he left. At the time, I'd felt relieved that he wasn't mad at me, but as the days passed, I wondered if he really couldn't forgive me for not telling him about Obito. Obito was a sore spot for Kakashi—not just sore, but festering.

And I had gone and spoken like I knew everything again. I just could not stop turning to my knowledge of his universe and thinking I already had all the answers. Anyone would get annoyed by that.

It was in this headspace that I stumbled home on Friday evening. Why did anything and everything happen the moment I was just trying to walk from my car to my front door?

A man bundled up in a sports team coat and matching hat came walking by. I glanced at him in politeness but stalled when I recognized the blue plastic in his hands. It was a chair, but when held in that exact way...

"Badass girlfriend," he said, removing one hand from the seat's frame to point at me, just as I pointed back at him and said, "Chair guy."

This had been my impromptu weapon during the crow incident from over a month ago. Strange. It hadn't been that long ago, yet I felt like I was looking upon an old comrade from a distant war.

"I haven't seen any crows like that again," he said. His sparse beard had grown in, and with his rosy red cheeks, he looked like he was auditioning as Santa's fit son. "I still panic a little when I hear them make noise."

Sympathy pooled at my features. "Yeah, hopefully it gets better. Something—something was definitely wrong with them. They weren't...normal."

My neighbor nodded. I wondered why he still held that chair aloft like that. Why carry it with him everywhere he goes? It was 30 degrees and so windy you couldn't even open your eyes fully.

"You look tired," he observed. Inwardly, I cringed. Even if it was true, why say it, dude?

I waved a hand. "Yeah, I just got off work."

"Meijer?"

Before I could start to worry about how he'd known where I worked, I realized my lunch bag provided the information for all the world to see.

With a release of breath, I nodded.

We descended into awkward silence. I wasn't the type to ask responding questions. He didn't seem bothered by that, but I could tell we were both wondering how to make a seamless exit.

Both of us knew we'd already missed the chance to make it natural, and now it was gonna be awkward no matter how we tried.

While I was debating just saying, "Take care. See you never!" and running full-out to my apartment, a man wearing a hoodie came into view from the sidewalk.

A flash of silver had me taking a second look, and sure enough, there he was.

Hero's Come Back!!

Unfortunately, nobodyknows+ did not start singing as Kakashi stepped onto the blacktop. He had me pinned under a heavy gaze immediately.

"That's your boyfriend, right?" the inquisitive neighbor asked.

Thankful for the reason to escape this small talk, I flashed him a grin and waved, "See ya around. I've gotta go."

I wasted no time in meeting Kakashi in the middle of the drive. We could be run over at any moment, but I was fine with taking that chance. This was too important.

Before either of us could open our mouths and ruin this reunion, I threw my frozen limbs around him. I only wore my Meijer jacket, so the wind had gotten to me on my short walk.

Kakashi bounced back a step, but I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders, squishing me into his chest. I was delighted by the feeling of being squashed like a bug.

The bear hug lasted for several quiet moments as I breathed in the scent of him—that woodsy, masculine smell that I missed so much I felt tears spring to my eyes. The steady thumping of his heart soothed me, and the sounds of the city and wind fell away as I was lulled by that tempo.

Eventually, I felt grounded long enough to crane my neck backward. I still didn't want to let him go, so I rested my chin on his chest. Peering into that masked face, I wondered where he'd gotten these clothes. He hadn't taken any of the ones I'd bought.

"Hey," I said.

As he looked down at me, his eyes were nearly shut. Delicate lashes fanned larger shadows, throwing his black eyes into even more impenetrable darkness.

"Hey."

"You came back."

Kakashi shifted on his feet, pulling me forward so that more of my weight rested in his hands. We swayed unsteadily, but I wasn't scared. I knew he wouldn't let me fall.

"I...did."

"I—" my words disappeared as I thought of all the things I wanted to tell him. Was I supposed to be angry? He had walked out on me. Why was I so instantly delighted to see him come back?

But was I supposed to be angry? Or not?

Was I acting like a doormat or was it fine to not hold a grudge?

Did I have a grudge to hold?

"Who was that?" Kakashi asked. I stared at him in confusion until I slowly untangled myself from his hold, stood on my own feet, and turned.

My neighbor was still there, but he was under the parking awning, fiddling away with a green car that looked more rusted than not. Gently, he stashed his beloved chair within its depths.

"Ah," I said, "that's one of the neighbors. He's the one whose chair I borrowed during...the crows."

"Hm."

Kakashi kept an even gaze on the man who tinkered with his front bender for a little while, poking and prodding at it to see if it was ready to fall off.

"Are you...here to stay?" I asked, knowing the answer and dreading it.

At last, Kakashi peeled his eyes away from the man, staring down at me for a few quiet seconds. "...no."

"Oh."

"But I can stay for a while."

I'd take it.

We moved toward the apartment when my neighbor dashed back out from under the awning. A mild panic rounded out his eyes behind his glasses as he called, "Wait, I forgot! One more thing!"

Kakashi's arm tightened on my side as the man approached. He arrived, panting from his short burst of speed. "I'm sorry," pant, "I forgot to," pant, "invite you both to," pant, "the winter kickoff tonight."

"Ah." I'd heard of that, but since I was a homebody, I'd never gone.

Usually done on the last snow-free weekend of the year, the winter kickoff gave people an excuse to party one last time outside before they shut themselves away for four months.

"It's in Dalmstead Park," he said. "At the pavilion. If you don't feel like cooking tonight, it starts in about an hour."

I smiled. "Thanks."

Message delivered, he nodded in gratitude. Tipping his head to Kakashi, he pivoted and hurried back to his car.

I fit my key into the lock. Already, excited mewls and the murmur of two teenagers played like faint music on the other side. I couldn't help a little grin. It was a lovely feeling to show up and everybody was there, waiting.

It was nice to be wanted.

"Does he come around a lot?" Kakashi asked.

I blinked, trying to keep up. Had I missed something?

Yanking the door open, I asked him, "Who?"

Kakashi's gaze assessed me, when a chorus of, "Gracie! Oh, Kakashi's back!" "Mister Kakashi!" interrupted whatever he had been about to say.

I pulled him into the house, quickly shutting the door before he could even think to leave.

The wild cry of recognition from Hable almost made me start crying, too. The kittens clawed up Kakashi's legs. Without a word, he scooped them up. His pets were not only affectionate but appraising as he gave them impromptu wellness checks.

"You're back!" Sam said excitedly. If she'd had a tail, it would be going a mile a minute. "Gracie, you brought him back!"

I just shook my head, walking toward the hallway. I disappeared for a brief moment in the spare room to grab my clothes before showering. When I stepped back into the hall, I felt his eyes. He watched me walk out from the room that he had used.

Under his gaze, I felt I'd done something wrong. Or at least weird. This was my apartment. I could keep my clothes wherever I wanted, couldn't I?

I was already sleeping in the living room. With all of Sam's and Kirishima's stuff piled in my old bedroom and spilling into the spare one, I'd had to make quick work of stashing all of my important clothes into a bin that I lived out of. But it's not like I was going to keep that in the living room, too.

I ignored the penetrating glint in that stare.

"We met a witch, too!" Kirishima prattled on.

The kids rotated around him. Kirishima was already tall enough that he almost stood at Kakashi's eyes, but he was still thin and wiry. He was an overgrown kitten, just like the string beans climbing the shinobi's shoulders and shedding hair all over his dark sweatshirt.

I made my exit, showering at record speeds, fear that he would be gone when I walked out chasing at my heels.