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Chapter Text

Sakura was in an office that the Hokage had assigned her for these sessions. It was small but cozy. There was even a small kitchen with the bare minimum to prepare something hot. Although it was an office, Sakura personalized the space a bit, at least putting some plants to make it look more alive, and she was grateful that there was a bookshelf for books to make the environment more professional.

At the moment she was sitting at her desk, trying to figure out how she would treat this Kakashi from the past because despite being in the medical field, emotionally saving someone was not her specialty.

She didn't know how different he was from the Kakashi she knew, but what she did know is that he had recently lost his teacher Minato. Another loss, in addition to his father Sakumo, and his teammates, Obito and Rin.

At least it comforted her to know that she had a few hours before he appeared to finish planning, due to his habit of being late. However, the door opened with a slight creak at the indicated time.

Kakashi entered.

A fifteen-year-old Kakashi, with the same unruly and grayish hair that she remembered, but he looked much younger. He was wearing the ANBU uniform, his hands in his pockets, his back straight, and his black mask covering both his nose and mouth, but both black eyes were visible, and his gaze was cold.

"I thought you'd be late," Sakura said, impressed.

Kakashi slightly tilted his head.

"You don't know me," he said firmly. "Why did you think that?"

"Well..." Sakura tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a bit nervous. "I thought you might run into a black cat and be forced to take another path... or that you'd have to help an old lady with her bags... or that you'd get lost in the..." she stopped at his intense gaze.

Kakashi didn't smile with his eyes. He just looked at her, fixed, with those eyes that seemed capable of seeing more than what he showed.

Sakura cleared her throat. This was not the Kakashi she remembered. There were no jokes, false calm, or that carefree air. This one was alert, tense... empty.

Silence.

She invited him to sit down with a gesture of her hand. Kakashi did so, but he was not relaxed, it was as if he was ready to get up at any moment.

Sakura introduced herself with the false name she had invented, "Sakuya," her age (eighteen years old) and explained that she had been assigned as a therapeutic caregiver. That she worked under direct orders from the Hokage, and that from today on she would be his therapist, with daily one-hour sessions if he was not out on a mission.

Then she opened her notebook and wrote: Start of the first session.

Sakura took a deep breath. She knew that anything she said would be evaluated. With Kakashi, nothing went unnoticed, she had to make a good impression.

"I know you don't want to be here," she began, softly, without aggression. "But I'm glad you came."

Kakashi didn't respond.

"My job is not to force you to say anything you don't want to," Sakura began. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions. If any of them make you uncomfortable, tell me and we'll stop, okay?"

"Okay," he answered after a few seconds.

"Let's start with something simple," Sakura paused. "You could introduce yourself and tell me what things you like and what things you hate. Dreams for the future? Also, what are your hobbies?"

"I'm Hatake Kakashi," he said in a monotonous tone. "Things I like and things I hate? I don't feel like telling you. My dreams for the future? I've never really thought about it. And as for my hobbies... I don't have any."

"You don't have any hobbies?" Sakura asked. The previous part was very much the Kakashi she knew, but the last part...

"No."

"Having a hobby is important in terms of physical and mental improvement," she explained. "So having one would be very beneficial for you. It can be anything..." she thought for a second. "Don't you like to read?"

"Not to consider it a hobby."

Sakura didn't quite believe him, not when her memory remembered him reading the Icha Icha everywhere. For the moment, she would leave the topic aside.

"What do you expect from these sessions?" she then asked.

Kakashi averted his gaze, as if searching the ceiling for an answer he couldn't find. Finally, he said:

"Nothing. The Hokage sent me."

Sakura wrote down, "Kakashi without disposition."

"Okay. Then let's start from there. What is it that you don't want to happen here? What would be a waste of time?"

Kakashi raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Talk."

"Okay," Sakura responded, writing down again (Kakashi reluctant to share). "Then let's talk with purpose because even though you consider it a waste of time, you'll see that it's not."

"I don't need to talk," Kakashi suddenly said, in a dry tone. "I don't need this. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Sakura responded, with a soft but firm tone.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, without responding.

"Your back is tense as if you don't remember what it's like to rest... and that expression that says you haven't been sleeping as you should for days."

Kakashi averted his gaze, focusing on a spot on the floor.

"Remember, you're not here to manage on your own. You're here because the Hokage believes you need help. Because you survived, and lost people you cared about in the process, and now you have to learn to live with that."

And there, for a fraction of a second, the silence became heavier. Kakashi breathed slower.

"I'm here to listen to you. Whenever you feel ready to talk."

Kakashi said nothing. Minutes passed and he seemed reluctant to share anything, but Sakura wouldn't let him go until the scheduled time was up, she offered him a cup of tea, but he refused it, or reading, or anything. They just remained silent.

"For today, that's enough," Sakura leaned back in her chair. "You don't have to let it all out in the first session. See you tomorrow."

Kakashi got up and disappeared in a cloud of smoke, Sakura rolled up her sleeve to see the words engraved on her skin again.

"Save Kakashi Hatake"

Even now, she wondered if she was saying the right words. If she could really save him.

...

The first sessions didn't vary much. Kakashi didn't start the conversation, he answered some questions, but not the necessary ones.

The clock marked the exact time when Kakashi left for the seventh time. It had been a week.

Sakura looked up from her notebook with a barely perceptible smile.

"Punctual again," she commented, without raising her voice too much, as if she didn't expect an answer. However, this time, Kakashi said something different.

"Yes, no black cat crossed my path as you expected."

He walked to the same sofa, sat down with his arms crossed and his back straight. Nothing in his body language suggested comfort.

"You can get comfortable."

"I'm fine."

"How did you feel after the last time?" she asked, opening her notebook, without arguing the previous one.

"The same," he answered, without thinking.

Sakura nodded. It was predictable, no changes, but since she knew these things take time, and although she wanted to return to her time as soon as possible, she had to take this seriously, even if in the future everything indicated that Kakashi was fine. Really, what she does here, will it be alright?

"Today I want to try something simple," she said, lowering her gaze to the paper, her initial comment made her think he was more receptive today.

Kakashi didn't respond.

"I want you to name the first person that comes to your mind."

His expression tensed immediately.

"I don't see the point," he said, and he sounded cold, defensive.

"I do," Sakura replied calmly. "But I won't force you," his defensiveness gave her the answer she needed. The first person that crossed his mind was someone who wasn't there, otherwise he wouldn't explain such evasiveness.

The silence stretched. The ticking of the clock filled the void with its unhurried rhythm.

Kakashi averted his gaze. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to get up and leave.

But he didn't. He remained there.

"You already know the names of the people who died because of my fault. Surely they told you about that, right? Do you expect me to say them?"

"Yes, I know the names. But the point is that you want to name them, not me," she said. "We can talk about one. Only if you agree. The one you think about the most lately, is there someone you think about more than others?"

A few seconds. When Sakura thought he wasn't going to answer, she heard him.

"Obito," he finally said.

Sakura nodded, without changing the rhythm of her breathing. She gave him space.

"Why him?"

"Because you reminded me of him," Kakashi answered, and she blinked. "The first day. When you said those excuses about black cats and old ladies with bags."

Sakura remained still. She didn't expect him to have reminded him of someone. But even more so that he would express it.

"He used to do that," Kakashi said, and his eyes lost a bit of focus, as if he was seeing him.

Then for a few seconds the room fell silent, one of those that shouldn't be filled. Sakura held his gaze, firm but without pressure.

"I know what you're trying to do with these sessions, you're going to tell me to forget it, that it's not my fault... But it is and I'm not going to forget it. Him and no one else." he assured with coldness in his voice. "You're wasting your time and mine."

"No, I won't tell you to forget it," Sakura said quickly. "You don't have to force yourself to bury those memories. You can even honor those you've lost, maybe, integrating their memories into your daily life: 'What would Obito do in this situation?' And do it."

Sakura paused. He looked at her and seemed to review her words in his mind.

"Do you want me to be late like him?"

She wasn't referring to that exactly, but he wasn't too far off either.

"It may be... mainly I want the guilt not to consume you," then she dared to continue. "Doing things he would do could help you..."

The clock struck the hour and he, in the middle of her words, disappeared in a cloud of smoke, without saying anything else.

One day at a time, she thought.

...

The sessions continued, one after the other, wrapped in routines and silences. Sakura took down minimal details, a change in tone of voice, a prolonged gaze, the restless movement of Kakashi's fingers when he was thinking. She observed him in a way she never thought she would.

One afternoon, after two weeks. Sakura decided to walk around the village to clear her head. The fresh breeze of Konoha helped her organize her thoughts. When she passed near the training grounds, she saw Kakashi, alone, throwing kunai at a log until the wood cracked. He moved with precision, but his movements were mechanical.

"You have good aim," she commented to say something, stopping at a prudent distance.

Kakashi didn't turn around, but he stopped. He picked up the kunai one by one, remaining silent.

"Are you coming to analyze me when I'm not in the consultation either?" he asked, without hostility, but with a certain resignation.

Sakura smiled slightly, relaxing her shoulders.

"No. I'm just walking to clear my head. Sometimes it helps to do something else not to think. Doesn't the same thing happen to you when you train?"

The air around them became denser, but Sakura didn't move away.

"It doesn't help as much as they say."

Kakashi put away the last kunai and stood up. He seemed about to leave, but he stood still, and spoke before continuing on his way. To Sakura's delight, his unexpected but comforting words surprised her.

"See you tomorrow."

...

Sakura had learned not to force things. Kakashi would arrive, sit down and not say a word. She would write in her notebook, sometimes pretend to read, sometimes just accompany him in silence when she knew he was reluctant to answer her questions or participate in her exercises, or they would even have tea in silence.

That session, however, she had brought a small book. One that had cost her to buy, but she did it so that her mind would start to occupy itself with other things.

Distraction. A little relief.

She had offered to read some of the books from the library, but he would leave them after a few minutes, he couldn't even tell her to do a task with the book if he didn't take the time to read it.

So she gave him the book she thought he would like. She left it on the low table, between the two of them.

He didn't say anything for a few seconds.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow.

"Icha Icha," Kakashi read in a low voice. His tone was neutral, but his eyes looked at her directly. "Isn't this the kind of book one shouldn't recommend in a session?"

Sakura held his gaze, trying to ignore the burning in her cheeks, out loud she felt bad about her distraction idea.

She tried to ignore that idea. After all, she could assure that in secret he read it, even if now he didn't want to admit it, she just had to grant him a couple of years for the audacity.

"They're funny too. And they have a better narrative structure than you'd expect. You might like it... if you haven't read it before..."

"I've never read it."

Sakura blinked slowly. Never?

"But... the one who wrote it was Jiraiya. He was your teacher's teacher, Minato." She still couldn't believe he had never read it.

That seemed to catch Kakashi's attention. He looked at her.

"Haven't you ever read any of his works?" Sakura asked again, and in response he told her that Minato had recommended "The Tale of the Gutsy Ninja" and stressed that it was not erotic like this one.

Sakura blushed even more strongly. She felt her face was very hot, realizing that she was the one who recommended the erotic reading.

"I'm going to make some tea, do you want any?" Sakura said, trying to regain her composure.

...

The next day. Kakashi entered the office.

"Did you sleep last night?" she asked, without raising her voice, as she wrote ("Kakashi didn't sleep again") in her notebook.

Kakashi shrugged slightly, without answering right away.

"A little," he finally said.

Sakura looked up, tilting her head slightly.

"Was it because of nightmares?" she asked softly. "This time, could you tell me what they were like?"

He didn't respond. Sakura thought about how difficult it must have been. He had never expressed anything about his nightmares before, for a moment, he just let the trembling in his hands accompany him before ignoring the question as if she had never asked.

However, this time, was he blushing?

"Or because you stayed up late reading Icha Icha?" she dared to ask.

Kakashi turned his head towards her, very slowly. His eyes narrowed. He didn't respond immediately, but Sakura thought she saw the slightest hint of disbelief in his expression. As if he didn't know which answer would be safer, he said nothing.

Sakura let out a brief laugh, but pressed her lips when she realized it had escaped.

"So it was Icha Icha?" she insisted, still smiling.

He said nothing.

Sakura wrote something innocently.

"Noted. 'Possible insomnia induced by questionable literature'."

"You wanted me to read it," he refuted with his calm voice.

"Yes, but you decided to read it," she said, teasing him a bit. Before she could realize that she might be getting too personal, she saw life in his eyes, and it was much more pleasant than the intense emptiness that his gaze induced.

"You have some particular recommendations for a therapist."

Sakura felt a mix of embarrassment and indignation in equal parts at the way he looked at her. It was as if he was telling her that she was a closet pervert.

"You read it, Kakashi!"

"I never would have if you hadn't recommended it to me."

Before Sakura could continue replying to her "patient," or before she could regret crossing a line, in that attempt to improve the atmosphere, for the first time she perceived a slight crinkling of his eyes, a hint of a hidden smile under the mask.

...

More than a month had passed and session number thirty began differently. Kakashi arrived on time, as always, but this time he didn't sit down immediately. He stood by the window, looking outside as if he was looking for something that wasn't there.

Sakura didn't rush him. She closed the notebook and waited in silence.

Kakashi took a deep breath, his shoulders still tense.

"I dreamed of them," he whispered. "Rin, Obito... I dreamed of the moment they died... Again."

Sakura felt a lump in her throat, but she forced herself to remain calm. He didn't ask her anything, but that he expresses it, she supposed he was looking for something from her. And that was a great step forward.

"Kakashi... they're not in your dreams to hurt you," the woman spoke softly. "What hurts the most... is what keeps coming back. It's not Rin or Obito blaming you for anything. It's your own heart... that still doesn't know how to forgive itself."

Kakashi looked away. The silence stretched before he spoke, barely a whisper.

"The guilt doesn't go away."

A dry pause.

"And maybe... it shouldn't go away."

Sakura held his gaze, not moving away.

"Maybe the guilt never completely disappears, Kakashi. Like many things... one learns to live with it. You don't have to force yourself to forget them, or erase what you feel. You can remember them, even blame yourself... but in the end, I'd like you to be able to forgive yourself. And that you can see that, in reality... it wasn't your fault."

Kakashi nodded slightly, a slow, almost imperceptible gesture. This time, he let himself fall against the backrest. His shoulders yielded, barely, as if releasing a minimal but real weight.

The rest of the hour passed in silence. Not the tense silence of always, but one that breathed differently, before leaving, Kakashi thanked her.

"Thank you, Sakuya."

It was the first time he called her by that name.

...

While waiting for Kakashi to arrive, Sakura saw him enter the office, and this time he was late.

"Did you get lost on the way?" she joked. Because that's all she could do, try to get him to relax. "Did some old lady have trouble with her shopping?"

Kakashi shrugged.

"Something like that," he replied as he sat down.

...

It was session number thirty-five. Sakura had noticed it since he entered: Kakashi was different. No more relaxed, not exactly.

He sat down without her having to invite him, put his hands in the pockets of his pants and fixed his gaze on the bookshelf, in silence.

Sakura opened her notebook out of habit.

"How was the night?" Sakura asked casually.

"Quiet," he replied, without embellishment.

She nodded and began to write. A few seconds passed. It was then that Kakashi spoke again.

"And you?"

Sakura blinked. She slowly raised her head.

"Me?"

"How did you sleep?" Kakashi asked calmly.

Sakura was surprised.

"Well?" she said, doubtfully.

"Aren't you sure?"

"I slept well... I just didn't expect that question."

"You're not the only one who can ask personal questions," Kakashi said. His eyes, under the messy bangs, seemed to be looking for something in hers.

Sakura looked at Kakashi with a gentle smile.

"Do you want to know more about me?" she asked.

Kakashi nodded seriously.

"Yes, if I'm going to keep coming to talk to you, I'd like to really get to know the person I'm talking to," she was surprised. She still remembered that he didn't want to "talk".

"Is that so? I've already told you the basics," Sakura replied. "My name is Sakuya, I'm eighteen, I work under the Hokage's orders and was assigned to you. Do you want me to tell you something more personal?"

Kakashi remained silent for a few moments, pensive, before speaking again.

"Maybe. What things do you like? What things do you hate? Dreams for the future? What are your hobbies?"

Sakura brought a hand to her chin, thoughtful.

"I like to continue learning medicine. I hate spicy food. I would like to open a clinic to evaluate and treat mental health -it was the closest dream she had- and my hobbies are trivia games."

Kakashi seemed satisfied with the answer. Then it was Sakura's turn to ask.

"Can I ask you now?" she said. "You said you had a quiet night, but those dark circles don't fool anyone. What kept you from sleeping? Was it a dream? Or did you stay up late reading?"

He decided not to answer.

"You know I didn't give you that book so you wouldn't sleep. If you like it so much, you should think about reading it in public. It's a pocket book."

"Don't think I'll do that."

Sakura smiled.

...

Fifty days had passed and thirty-nine sessions. Today's had ended, but Kakashi didn't get up. He kept looking at the cup she had served him, turning it between his fingers as if avoiding looking at her.

Sakura gathered her things calmly, but noticed his stillness.

"Everything alright?" she asked, without pressing him.

"Thinking," he said, without looking at her, releasing the cup.

She nodded. There was no need for him to explain further. She leaned down to take Kakashi's empty cup, and in that movement, a strand of hair slid across her face. She brushed it aside with one hand, but Kakashi raised his before she could.

Her breath got caught in her throat. He didn't touch her, but his hand remained suspended halfway, as if he had forgotten what he was going to do. It was so rare to see him hesitate that she almost forgot to blink.

"Yes?" she asked softly.

He lowered his hand slowly and averted his gaze.

"Nothing. It's done."

Sakura then saw it. A line of color crossed his cheeks, it was barely perceptible under the mask, but unmistakable in the slight blush that peeked through his exposed cheekbones.

She didn't expect that from Kakashi.

She felt a spark of warmth run through her chest. She wanted to believe that this small change was because of her, because of what they had built in those sessions. And for a moment, she thought that maybe she was reaching him.

Kakashi got up in more haste than usual and left without looking at her again.

...

More than two months had passed since Sakura began her sessions and, although she noticed some improvement in Kakashi, she still wondered if that was enough. She didn't see any changes in the mark on her arm. The Hokage would occasionally ask her if the mark was fading, which would be a sign that her mission was accomplished, but until then there were no clear signs.

Until one day it started to fade. Soon it would be gone.

...

The afternoon was falling over Konoha. She had proposed another session in the afternoon, since she felt that one hour was not enough and she hoped to accelerate things, to her surprise there was no rejection. The light was entering through the window in long, golden lines, bathing the room with an unusual calm. The steam from the tea rose softly, and Kakashi watched it as if he was looking for something in it that he didn't quite understand.

Kakashi placed the cup on the low table and glanced at her. Lately, Sakura had noticed that he looked at her, she could think that he was subtle. But she was also a ninja.

Sakura lowered her gaze to her own cup, still hot in her hands.

"Kakashi..." she began slowly. "There's something I want to make clear."

He looked up, attentive.

"I'm not going to stay," she said softly. "I don't know when, but the time will come when I have to leave. And when that happens, I don't want it to take you by surprise."

Kakashi frowned slightly. He didn't say anything. He watched her intently, as if trying to process her words.

"I'm not going to stay longer than necessary. I'm here to help you be well... and when you're ready to be without me, I'll leave."

"And who decides when I'm ready?"

"You, Kakashi," she answered without hesitation. Because the fading of the words had to mean the fulfillment of the mission.

Kakashi lowered his gaze to his empty cup. There was a longer silence this time. Not uncomfortable, but full of unspoken meanings.

Sakura leaned forward, picked up both cups, and walked to the small teapot at the back.

"Where are you going to go?" Kakashi asked.

Sakura blinked.

"Far away."

Kakashi said nothing. He just nodded once, slowly, and looked out the window.

"Does it bother you?" she asked softly.

He shook his head.

"It shouldn't," Kakashi said. For a moment, the ninja's shoulders tensed, but then they relaxed. His face was still partially covered by the mask, but his eyes... his eyes were fixed on her.

...

That day was different, the letters that ran across her arm, so black, were clearer.

Was her mission being completed? The Hokage told her it seemed that way.

"I won't come tomorrow. I'll be away for a couple of days," Kakashi announced.

She knew the reason. She knew that his absence was due to an ANBU mission and therefore, to voluntarily delve into an even darker pit.

Even though she had told the Third Hokage to consider taking him out of ANBU.

He was firm in his response that considering the current situation, they could not dismiss such a valuable asset, and that he hoped she would do enough for him to save him.

Sakura was angry about this, but she knew she couldn't do much more. She felt that, to a certain extent, the treatment had stagnated, and that it was now necessary to change the environment that surrounded him. To her frustration, lately all she had been doing was trying to prevent the darkness from completely consuming him.

"Why are you in ANBU?" she asked before he left. She had wanted to address that topic when the Third Hokage considered retiring him, but that moment still seemed far away, and she was close to leaving. "It's not helping you to be there."

He didn't say anything.

"Is it to deal with the pain?"

"Yes."

"Does it work?"

He nodded slightly.

"I don't feel anything."

The answer left her frozen, it was definitely a harmful environment.

When had he stopped being in ANBU? Sakura tried to remember, but she couldn't.

How long would she be here? Would she have weeks or days left? Not knowing the exact day, and whether she was doing something meaningful, anguished her.

"You've been strange."

She didn't expect it, although it didn't entirely surprise her either. Being his therapist didn't mean he stopped being an observer. But she couldn't tell him the real reason.

"Are you leaving soon?" Kakashi asked, and that surprised her, she saw his hands in his pockets. It should be a relaxed posture, but she felt him tense.

She looked him in the eyes, those that didn't seem so empty, but now Kakashi was going on an ANBU mission for days to emotionally shut down while destroying every emotion in his body, and when he returned, again, she would try to get him out, hoping that something she says will be enough.

Was she helping him? Did she do something to save him?

Sakura opened the answer to respond. The mark was fading, it must mean that what she was doing was good, that she was saving him.

"...Yes."

As she uttered those words, Kakashi disappeared.

...

The next time she saw him, she didn't expect to find him with his suit splattered with blood, dark stains covering his chest, arms and legs, right there, in front of the door to her apartment.

It wasn't his, she could tell immediately when she assessed that he was not physically injured. However, what really disturbed her was his gaze, but not empty. Instead, it was desperate.

"Kakashi?"

The anguish rose to her throat, and she knew it was reflected on her face. He noticed it too. They were so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath filtering through the mask, and that fixed, intense gaze trapped her, making it clear that there was no room to escape.

"My life is made up of people who left."

The words pierced her chest like a kunai. Before she could respond, he leaned his face and brushed his masked lips against hers. Despite the fabric, Sakura felt the warmth, the weight and the vulnerability that he never allowed to show.

"Don't be one more," he whispered, trying to sound firm, though a barely audible plea crept into his voice. His ears were burning, and Sakura didn't know if he was even aware of it.

She remained motionless, her heart pounding against her ribs, trapped between responding or pulling away. But he didn't give her a chance to decide, he pulled away as quickly as he had shortened the distance and, in the blink of an eye, disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Sakura was left staring at the empty space, her face flushed and her breathing short. She brought her fingers to her lips, almost without thinking, still feeling the warm echo of that contact that had made her heart race, still incredulous at what had happened.

...

It didn't take long, in a few minutes of entering the apartment, the mark on her arm began to burn, but the words were no longer there. The pain grew like fire, tearing a gasp from her. Dizziness, blurred vision, the world fading.

When she regained consciousness, she was no longer there, but she did not return to her time as she had hoped.

Three years had passed. Kakashi Hatake was now 18 years old.

And on his left arm, the letters remained, sharp and cruel, like an order that never let go:

"Save Kakashi Hatake".