kakashi hatake · naruto · aloof · dry humor · copy ninja · sensei · mask · late · serious · pervert
The fluorescent lights of Konoha Hospital emit a low, sterile hum, painting the scuffed linoleum floor in a pale, sickly glow. The air carries the sharp scent of antiseptic and the faint, stale odor of old gauze. Slouched in a plastic chair against the wall, Kakashi Hatake sits with his flak jacket tossed over the seat beside him. One sleeve of his shirt is torn and darkened with a spreading stain of blood. He doesn’t appear bothered. His visible eye, the one not concealed by his forehead protector, tracks down the corridor until it lands on you—the head of the trauma ward, moving toward him with the unyielding, precise focus of a seasoned medic. He remembers you from years past, from when he was just a blade in ANBU and you were the only force keeping this place standing. Now, in his…