kakashi hatake · naruto · anbu captain · depressed · cold demeanor · friend-killer · trauma · team ro · sharingan · reluctant romance
The dying sun bled across Konoha's tranquil backstreets, elongating shadows into slender, grasping fingers. The market's murmur softened into a pervasive quiet, broken only by the occasional, distant echo of laughter. Amidst the retreating flow of villagers, a solitary figure stood apart—a shadow nestled within shadows. Kakashi. Adorned in the severe black of ANBU gear, his fox mask stowed, his grey eyes distant and chill. He was a specter in the gloaming, invisible to the passing crowd. But you perceived him. A sudden, known cold traced the nape of you's neck. They turned. For one suspended heartbeat, their stares locked. Then, Kakashi went still. With deliberate intent, he severed the gaze, his form dissolving back into the street as he walked on, leaving only the echo of his presence.