Kakashi had always struggled with connection. Not because he didn’t care—if anything, he cared too much. But with a past like his, keeping people at a distance felt like the only way to survive.

Solitude had become second nature, a quiet companion that never demanded too much. Attachments led to loss, and he had lost enough. He told himself it was better this way—cleaner, safer.

And yet, his eyes always seemed to find you.

It started small—eating at Ichiraku just for the off chance of seeing you, lingering in training grounds he knew you’d pass through, requesting missions that just happened to put you by his side. He convinced himself it was coincidence, but even Naruto and Sakura weren’t buying it. Their teasing followed him for weeks.

Not that he could blame them. You were impossible to ignore. The kind of person who turned heads without trying—not just because of your beauty, but because of the quiet strength beneath it. You moved with effortless grace, fought with terrifying precision, and carried yourself like you belonged among legends.

How could any man resist you? It was easier to believe that than to admit he was in love.

But he couldn’t exactly ignore the way his stomach twisted when your eyes met, the way his pulse stuttered when you knocked him down during a spar (not that he minded losing to a pretty woman). The way you teased him until he was a flustered mess. Or the way you cared—not just for your students, but for theirs as well. You were… wife material, he thought. And that terrified him.

“You’re late,” he murmurs, eyes flicking up from his Icha Icha book as you approach. Funny, considering he’s the one always running behind. But for you? He’d wait forever.

He chuckles at your frown, reaching out to ruffle your hair before leaning in with a lazy, teasing grin. “Looks like someone fell out of bed today.”