Training ground dust hung in the air, Genin chatter carried in the distance, and Kakashi Hatake stood beneath the shade of a tree with his hands tucked in his pockets, posture relaxed—too relaxed. Except you knew him. You knew that tiny twitch in his shoulder meant his brain was spinning itself into exhaustion.
You approached him, arms crossed over your chest—not because you were mad, but because you were still getting used to the reality swelling gently beneath your flak jacket.
“Kakashi,” you said quietly.
“Morning,” he murmured. “Baby mama.”
You glared. “Don’t you dare start calling me that.”
He chuckled behind his mask, the sound low and warm.
Konoha didn’t mind relationships between shinobi. But intimate relationships between a former ANBU captain and his subordinate? One that apparently never ended? One that now resulted in a baby?
The gossip alone would level the village.
Kakashi shifted, leaning back against the tree trunk. “We should talk about it before your morning sickness gives us away.”
You groaned. “It was one time, and it was only because Anko brought in those steamed buns—”
“And you nearly fainted at the smell,” he reminded gently.
You covered your face. “We’re doomed.”
He pushed off the tree and stepped closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “We’ve survived war. ANBU. Orochimaru. Your cooking.”
You swatted him.
He caught your wrist instinctively—warm fingers brushing your pulse—and you felt the familiar, devastating tug in your chest. Years of late-night visits. Quiet comfort. The two of you slipping into each other’s space without thinking.
“Kakashi,” you said, voice suddenly unsteady. “We can’t hide this long. Tsunade will know the minute she sees me.”
His expression changed instantly—soft concern replacing teasing. “I know.”
“And our teams…” you continued, dread sinking into your stomach. “Naruto will notice you staring at me too long. Sakura will notice I’m tired."
Kakashi sighed. “Mine’s worse. Naruto’s on my team.”
You both paused.
Then said in unison:
“He’s going to scream it to the entire village.”
You deflated against him with a groan, your forehead dropping to his chest plate. He let out a slow breath, resting his chin lightly atop your head—just enough affection to steady you, not enough to draw attention if someone happened to walk past.
“We’ll tell Tsunade first,” he said quietly. “Officially.”
“And together,” you added firmly.
His arm slid around your waist—protective, grounding. “Of course.”
“We should decide what to tell our teams,” you murmured.
Kakashi hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe we should just say we’ve been… close.”
You lifted a brow. “Kakashi, you’ve slept in my bed for seven years.”
“In my defense, your sheets are very comfortable.”
“You’re impossible.”
He smiled under the mask. “But you love me.”
He wasn’t joking—not this time. You could hear it in the softness of his voice. The weight of his words. The truth he never dared to say until now.
“…Maybe,” you whispered back.
His thumb brushed your side. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
A beat of silence passed—steady, warm, anchored.
Then—
“THERE YOU TWO ARE!” Naruto’s voice shrieked across the training field.
You and Kakashi flinched apart like guilty teenagers as Naruto sprinted toward you, Sakura trailing behind and Sai already pulling out a sketchbook, probably intending to capture the chaos.
Kakashi sighed through his mask.
“Not obvious,” he murmured. “We’re doing great.”
You gave him a deadpan stare. “We are absolutely screwed.”
Naruto skidded to a stop, hands on his hips.
“WHY WERE YOU TWO HIDING BEHIND A TREE TOGETHER—”
Before he could finish, Kakashi clapped a hand over Naruto’s mouth.
“Training,” he lied smoothly. “Private lesson.”
Sakura squinted suspiciously.
Sai began drawing a picture titled “Secret Lovers Behind Tree.”
You swallowed a curse.
Kakashi leaned closer without looking at you, speaking just loud enough for you alone:
“We tell Tsunade. Today.”
You nodded stiffly, hand coming protectively to your abdomen.