I Don't Fall In Love (Hatake Kakashi Love Story)

Chapter Twenty-Six: The ANBU Mission: Part IX

Chapter Twenty-Six

The ANBU Mission: Part IX

 

Kakashi’s Point of View

 

            Why did I have to fight Sayaka? Of all people . . . Sayaka . . . had to fight . . . me? This was preposterous, I tell you, preposterous! The only woman . . . dear. . . to my heart . . . was . . . her . . . and she had to fight me? No . . . wait . . . I had to fight her.

            I was currently sitting under some deciduous tree. The moonlight . . . was glistening against my bare face, with only my plain black mask on. What on earth could I do? I mean . . . What if I accidentally . . . killed . . . her? What if . . . what if . . . what if . . .

            Too many thoughts were being automatically shoved into my mind. Too many ‘what ifs’ and ‘possibilities’ were clouding my brain. What if this . . . What if that . . . What was this? Mutiny? Against my very own self?

            Those very auburn strands of hair that framed her very face . . . That very scent of lavender emitting off of her . . . Those dark brown eyes . . . that flashed into my head every now and then . . . What by Kami could I do against her?

            She was Sayaka . . . My dear . . . Sayaka . . .

 

Sayaka’s Point of View

 

            Inside the cell was terrifying. The red eyes of mice and rats were terrorizing me to no end. The stench . . . was pretty much unbearable.

            Memories were flooding back into my mind. My fight with Kakashi was petrifying. I was fighting the man I secretly loved. I was fighting the very man with whom I took the Jonin exams with. Ugh . . . What kind of person was I?

Flashback

 

            I was running down the various hallways, in search of the very hollers I had heard on my way to escape from the prison cell. I knew it was Kakashi’s voice, so I quickly ran through the halls in search of him.

 

            Suddenly, I felt something sharp thrust into my body. Yanking it out carefully, I turned around only to find the hooded man before me.

 

            “What do you want?” I yelled at him, already in a fighting stance.

 

            “What do I want, you ask?” the man smirked in a playful way. “You, of course.”

 

            The way he stated it made it sound that it was obvious.

 

            “And why is that?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.