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The Precious Price of a Year in Cloud by vernajast

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Story notes: YonKaka
Rating: PG
Time Period: non-canon timeline, Minato is Hokage, Kakashi is ~18, no mention of kyuubi
Squick: A little blood, a little angst (not a lot, relatively speaking), implied het
Pairings: YonKaka angst/fluff, minute Minato/Kushina

An old plot bunny that wouldn't go away finally gets written and removed from the "to do" list. Huzzahs are in order.
1 year.

"Kakashi, you do understand what I'm saying? I love you."

The words were heavy in the dank room. They had begged for an outlet, but Minato knew the moment they were uttered that it had been a mistake to voice them out loud. To give in.

His former student, his friend, pulled away, licking pale chapped lips. Minato wondered if he could still taste their all-too-brief kiss. And then, Kakashi disappeared out the window, leaving Minato clutching the empty air.

The Yellow Flash was too slow.

His rage was almost palpable the next morning when Ami-chan placed the mission status reports on the Hokage's desk. The normally gentle man had only to glance at the topmost page and he was yelling, face red, his rarely spied temper out in full force. "Where is he!? Call him back right now! I'll kill him, myself!"

"H-hokage-sama?"

"Hatake! Where the hell did he go? This mission request...it was approved by...it's marked with Sandaime-sama's seal..." Minato pushed a hand back through his mop of blond hair. It was damp with perspiration, though it had little to do with heat or lack thereof. Gray clouds outside hinted that snow was on its way. He glared down at the reports then out the open window. "That...he...and sensei's signature, too? They don't outrank me anymore! How the hell? No, where...WHY?!"

The meek Hyuuga let the Hokage go on for a while longer before slamming the window closed to get his attention. Panicked blue eyes went wide, pain clearly evident in the angry man's expression. "What it he meaning of this? That one stays open! You know that. He might...I mean...the circulation...uh, ventilation...it..."

"He's gone, Hokage-sama," she stated plainly, quietly and with a hint of reflected sadness and concern. "He's just...gone."

"But...Ami..." Minato collapsed into his chair, no longer able to stand, failing to even hold on to his anger. His voice was a whisper in the large office, yet perfectly clear, as most terrible truths are, after the fact, "He left because of me."

She wanted to ask what idiotic thing her superior had blurted out to the man, but instead, she straightened a few of the items upset during his rampage, and muttered, "Well, I can't say. You would certainly know better than I." She snatched the report from Minato's desk, scanning the details. "I only know what is written here: Hatake-san will return in one year, if all goes as planned. Though the date is, of course, fluid, and there are so few details here...this report is classified even to you?"

"Yes." So much despair in a single syllable broke Ami's heart, but there was nothing to be done. She had been working the mission room when the silver-haired man stormed in, a whirlwind of stiff resolve and tight control, demanding the longest mission available in that cold, slightly rough voice he used with everyone except Minato. Somehow—she still wasn't quite sure—she had managed to slip a two year engagement in Suna to the bottom of the pile of scrolls, replacing it with a one-year stint in Cloud instead. The young man would be required to pose as a civilian, gathering information on the various activities of the daimyo and factions within Lightning country, and though it was technically below the Hatake's skill level, he was still qualified to accept it. Besides, she didn't think he'd take 'no' for an answer.

She had insisted he get the proper approvals for an extended mission, sure that the Hokage would be pleased she had managed to foil Kakashi's attempted escape, but as could be expected of the infamous man, he had apparently outsmarted her and proven he had more guts than she gave him credit for. He had to have awoken both Sandaime and Jiraiya-sama, as only their twin signatures would garner just enough authority to bypass Minato completely. It was meant as a safeguard, in cases of emergency, should the Hokage not be able to perform his duties. This was blatant abuse of the system!

The rage and tantrum had been expected. The despairing sadness that followed, however, was not.

"Ami...how could he...?" The blond was slouched in his chair, hand folded over his temples, holding his head.

"If you don't mind...uh...what did you say?"

Minato's blush clearly told the lie to his single-worded answer of "nothing," and Ami pressed for more. She finally managed to wrestle the entire story from her chagrined superior, and then, she, too, felt a certain sadness for the pair. Minato-sama...must be an idiot savant.

~*~

11 months.

"Alright, Hokage-sama. That's enough for you, sir."

"But...no, not yet!" Minato reached for his cup, for the bottle of sake, but the bartender had already removed them, effectively cutting him off.

With a heavy sigh, the tired blond stumbled toward the door, bumping into a few of the other patrons, laughing and apologizing profusely. Having drowned his sorrows completely, he felt giddy and out of phase. Then, he tumbled over something solid and, lacking his usual grace, landed firmly on his back. The world spun, and then he was staring up into a face framed in bright red hair and a pair of vivid green eyes full of concern. Hiding a good round of merry laughter, as well, he suspected.

Indeed, he was right, and Minato got to hear it for himself later that night as he weaved and tripped into his apartment. The red head giggled and fumbled with first his shirt, and then, her own, somehow managing to get them both undressed as Minato touched and tasted every piece of exposed skin. The sensation was thrilling and terrifying at once. It had been far too long since he had been with a woman, and more recently, all of his focus had been devoted to his one-sided obsession with Kakashi, to the exclusion of all else.

He loved her, for a moment, for a night, forgetting the reason he was so drunk to begin with. For that night, he let himself go, he let Kakashi go. Forgot his silver hair, the scar bisecting his cheek, the other more subtle scars he knew like a map of the younger man's body, without ever having touched him. Forgot the storm clouds in a gray eye, the way moonlight shone on his skin, the way he tasted, the one time he'd kissed him...

They both acknowledged and ignored the lie, seeking comfort in a friendly embrace, finding temporary peace.

Minato muttered a name in his sleep and Kushina pretended it was her own. Just for tonight.

~*~

6 months.

The first half of Kakashi's year was over and life in the village continued, as always. Minato kept the window open. Ami-chan closed it. He opened it again and warded it against her meddling. She was forced to ask her superior to please remove the handcuffs from her wrists so that she might get back to work, and would he mind closing the damned window? It was raining in.

~*~

4 months.

In a small neighboring kingdom, a red haired girl glared at her mother and aunt, steadfastly refusing to answer any questions with a heavy, very final, "No." She rubbed her belly with one hand.

~*~

3 months.

Minato had destroyed every publicly displayed calendar in the administrative building and was starting to get desperate. His mind had begun calculating the days until Kakashi's return and, even without the visual reminders, he couldn't forget.

He glared down at the word he had written three times incorrectly and noticed his hand was shaking.

He certainly wasn't thinking of breaking into the archives, destroying the seals, and reading those forbidden documents. He wasn't considering whether or not the risk of being caught with the files was worth knowing where Kakashi was. And if he knew, he would never entertain thoughts of abandoning his office for an unplanned 'vacation' to retrieve him.

With a huff, Minato threw himself into his work.

~*~

2 months.

Everything was doused in blood. Red fingerprints, like a child's macabre art project, dotted the sheets and medical equipment. The same equipment that had fallen silent moments before, when the doctors had shaken their heads and mouthed their condolences.

In a smaller room down the hall, a wet nurse rocked a tiny baby. She whispered quiet words of sympathy and hope into his ear, fingers twisting already prominent blond locks, humming songs her mother had once taught her and she had sang to her own children.

And she mumbled secrets to the child.

His young mother had smiled when she saw him, the first and only time, and had hopefully declared he looked "just like his father." The father she had protected for nine months, hoping to spare him the responsibility, the burden, of unplanned fatherhood. She hadn't intended to contact him, not just yet, but in her final moments, Kushina-hime had told her mother the name of the man, head nodding weakly when the older woman only looked at her daughter in disbelief. She begged her family to respect his wishes, whatever they might be, reminded them that he was a busy man, after all, and that she was nothing when compared to the Hokage of Leaf.

Her last breath was a shuddering, frail thing, mixed with a smile and a laugh and a quiet claim that "he is a good man; he will love Naruto."

The wet nurse smiled down at the baby boy and patted his full belly as he snuggled against her skin. "She loved you fierce, and who wouldn't done? They'll find him, little one." And then she settled back in her chair with a small bound book, fingers pressed against the rough etched signature of its author on the cover, and began to tell him the story his mother had loved so well that she named her son after the main character.

~*~

2 weeks.

It was humid for the end of November. Sticky air slipped beneath his mask, leaving the fabric damp and tacky against his skin, trapping the moisture of his breath, and Kakashi made a face in the dark. He was perched on the sill outside Minato's bedroom, surprised to find it unlocked after nearly a year away, but also...pleased.

He had completed his mission two weeks early, eager to return to the village, to Minato. He said...

Standing outside the man's window, however, he found his fingers unwilling to move to open it. He frowned at the frame, refusing to admit he was nervous, that he honestly worried Minato might have found another, moved on. That he had changed his mind, would hate him, or, infinitely worse, that he would simply be indifferent. Hate, he could stand, but apathy from the man who wore his heart on his sleeve would be impossible to reconcile. It was wrong, and the knowledge that he might have put it there...

He contemplated walking away. Again. Remember what he said.

Finally, pale, gloved fingers slid beneath the edge of the window and lifted, and his body slipped silently into the room. Just inside, he closed the window and carefully removed the armor he had worn on his journey home, leaving it in a pile on the floor. He listened fondly to the man's soft breathing, scarcely daring to breathe himself, wondering if Minato was awake or truly sleeping so soundly.

He left his mask and gloves with his armor when he confirmed there was no one else in the bed, and smiled thankfully, hoping it meant he could fix the pathetic situation, explain himself. Tell Minato he was sorry for running away.

No one had said those words to him since...for a very, very long time. He had panicked.

A year had nearly passed and Kakashi had a strategy. He knew what words to say, had rehearsed the touch on Minato's shoulder, the shy smile. He'd thoroughly prepared for this moment, but when he saw that sleeping face, worry lines smooth and eyes softly closed, he suddenly knew that no matter how he had planned, when faced with a conscious Minato training knowing blue eyes on his bare face...he wouldn't be able to speak.

The famed shinobi felt clumsy and unsure standing there in the open, staring down at his sleeping mentor. With a huff, he muttered, "what the hell," and easily slid beneath the dark red comforter and sheet to lie beside Minato.

The sleeping man smiled, eyes still closed. "Wondered what you were up to...I missed you..."

"You see, there was this scarecrow and a golden field, and he...well, it's a long story. You wouldn't really be interested." Minato didn't answer, but Kakashi felt reassured he'd made the right decision and let himself relax a little into Minato's arms, forming his body to mold against the blond's chest and hip. He was comfortable despite the heat beneath the blanket and the cloying humidity of the ambient air, and he wondered only vaguely where he would have gone if he had been turned away.

Minato's lips on his neck interrupted his thoughts, and Kakashi muttered apologies in the dark as the kisses moved up his throat to his jaw, to his mouth. Minato replied to the quiet words with more "I missed you's" and Kakashi smiled in the dark, their shared relief audible in Minato's lone voice. The silver haired man gathered his courage from the sound, and finally whispered, faintly, "I love you." This, too, he had practiced, and just getting the words out had removed a weight on his chest, even if they did sound trite, unimaginative. They were words spoken to a target before his kunai pierced their back. A charade.

Except here. They would suffice.

Minato continued kissing and tasting, holding. And then, he realized Kakashi hadn't echoed his words back, hadn't said, "I miss you."

"But you left, Kakashi!"

"I did. And I'm back."

"You...I said...and then, you..."

"Shh. Sensei...Minato..." Kakashi kissed him deeply, fully on the mouth, cutting off anymore protest with teeth and tongue and lips. Where their first kiss had been a tentative peck the night Kakashi had runaway, this time it was fueled by a fiery need and longing that had smoldered over twelve months, burning low but hot, waiting. It was—

A noise in a distant room brought them both to a stop, Kakashi already reaching for his weapons pouch, Minato looking rather...embarrassed.

"What is it, sensei?" Minato's lack of reaction was enough to sooth Kakashi's instincts, but something still wasn't quite right.

Blushing in the dark, thankful for the cover of night, Minato buried his face into Kakashi's neck, mumbling something muffled. As he climbed out of bed, he uttered any number of colorful curses and finally turned toward Kakashi, looking terribly defeated and oddly exhausted. Has he been sleeping at all?

Another noise, and it sounded like...a small animal? Or...

"Kakashi, there's something...I think we need to talk."

~ end ~
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