Hatake Kakashi liked routines. He wasn’t too fond of change, though he accepted that it was a natural part of life and no matter how much he wanted things to stay the same, they most likely would not.

However, he managed to maintain a rather structured, routine-led life, to his satisfaction. He wasn’t too strict in how things occurred—again, he realized he couldn’t help it sometimes—but he did follow a certain schedule that he would not allow to vary: every morning at four sharp, he got out of bed, helped himself to bread and tea, and was out the door by four-thirty to go fishing. If he was lucky and caught something, he would be back by six or so to prepare for the day. He would attempt to wake the raven-haired teenager who slept in the room across the small hallway from his, get a little more food, attempt to wake the boy again, get dressed and ready to go, then force the young man out of bed with threats of kicking him out, though he was too kind-hearted to anyway.

From there the routine would continue as usual: he would bid farewell to Sasuke the tenant, who would owlishly glare at the older man for getting him out of bed, then head his way over to the small library that was given to him by his late father. He was at the library by seven sharp, unlocking the doors and preparing by putting back some of the books returned late at night. He would make sure everything was in order, and then—at eight promptly—Kakashi opened the library.

It would be around eight-fifteen or so that Naruto would blearily stumble in, his woven bag with his lunch draped over his shoulder, typically clutching some kind of pastry that Sasuke would sneak him in the mornings. The energetic blond wasn’t quite so lively in the morning and often required the moody baker’s apprentice to give him the sugar high he needed to get started. Kakashi would affectionately say hello to his semi-conscious employee, wait for the sugar to kick in, then have him help him with chores Kakashi didn’t want to take care of himself, be it shelving books, dusting windowpanes, or the daily nuisance of organizing the catalog, which fell into disarray frequently.

The day would officially start around nine, when people started to mill in. Often scholars from the palace would wander in, borrowing books or finding a table to write at. Kakashi was aware of the duties of these people; everything from re-cataloging to copying manuscripts to researching, and he was more than happy to have them there, even if they were there until closing time.

Twelve-thirty would come quickly and, because it was their slowest time of day, Kakashi would take over for Naruto, who would grab his favorite window table and dig out his lunch. Sakura, Naruto’s intelligent and independent friend, would arrive within a few minutes toting her own meal and would happily join the blond, sometimes swapping foodstuffs and even sharing dishes. Sasuke, looking exhausted, would appear but only for a short time, as lunchtime was the busiest time of day for him, bringing a basket of a few small rolls and usually some kind of pastry for Sakura and Naruto’s enjoyment. They would always beg him to stay a little longer, and he would always shrug his dissent, giving them a small wave as he disappeared out the door to return to the bakery. Lunch would last forty minutes for Naruto but only thirty for Sakura, who was on a less lax schedule than her friend. Before she left, though, she’d find Kakashi, wish him a good day and thank him for letting her spend lunch in the library, then give him a poultice for his hands, which often became sore and raw from fishing, a medicine he applied daily. Sakura herself made the poultice, as she worked as apprentice to the village’s doctor and mayor, Tsunade, the great granddaughter of the first mayor. Sakura frequented the library on the weekends, poring over medical documents and heavy books full of jargon only she and Tsunade could understand.

Closing time was at six, and at around five forty-five Naruto would begin to shoo out the people still in there. Kakashi would put back books, straighten up tables, and finish up his work until six-fifteen; then, he let Naruto leave and locked the door to head home.

If he hadn’t caught anything, he would stop by the butcher’s, but he always went to the baker’s to pick up a fresh loaf of bread, indulging himself with a muffin every so often, and saying a quick hello to Sasuke if he had time. Most often, he didn’t—the young man had a gift for perfect pastries, it seemed, and spent his time in the back, icing cakes or applying sugar to Danishes.

Kakashi would head home to his small house on the Cliffside, getting a nice fire going inside and preparing dinner by seven. Dinner was usually ready by seven-thirty or eight, depending on what he was making, and he always made sure to save a little for Sasuke, who arrived home at about nine. Kakashi would allow himself sufficient time to enjoy his meal, then would settle on the couch to read for a while, reading a chapter a night, two chapters if he reached a cliffhanger and had to keep going. He would be in bed by ten after putting out the fire and cleaning up his dishes. He was usually asleep by ten-fifteen; a little later if he was still thinking about his book or the day’s events.

Hatake Kakashi was a man of routine, and he liked it that way. He was private and introverted, but fairly friendly and well liked in town. People weren’t even bothered by his mask anymore, and they knew not to poke around in the quiet man’s personal life. He had many friends and even more acquaintances, but only a few he could call dear to his heart. He wasn’t lonely or bored; on the contrary, he liked things just the way they were and accepted that he would probably never have much more than this. It wasn’t like he wanted more anyhow.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Routines get thrown out of order sometimes, whether one likes it or not, and that’s just what happened to Hatake Kakashi. It wasn’t when he “least expected it”, per se, as he never expected anything out of the ordinary to happen in the first place, but it was definitely a surprise to him, and not altogether a pleasant one.

His internal clock woke him at four sharp on February twentieth, a chilly Tuesday morning. The February gloom was usually tangible, but a deeper sniff and Kakashi’s natural seafaring man’s sense told him it was bad weather out.

He stretched his arms above his head, feeling his back crack in a few places. The small house was still dark as he wandered towards the kitchen. He lit the potbelly stove in the corner, putting a piece of bread with cheese in, and put the kettle on to make himself some tea. He started a small blaze in the fireplace, feeling the warmth begin to seep out and dispel the cold and gloom. He knew Sasuke would appreciate that.

Kakashi pulled back the curtain on one of the windows and peered outside. It was pouring rain, much to his disappointment, and the sea was heaving and roiling as if furious. Kakashi had lived in the seaside village since birth and knew that it was a treacherous time; he would not be fishing today. The most he could do was put on his rainclothes and wander along the shore in search of smaller fish that had washed up.

The kettle gave a quiet whistle and Kakashi peered over his shoulder at the teapot, chewing on his lip, debating whether to drink now or wait until after he came in, when he would want the warmth of tea to permeate through him. At the smell of his bread toasting, he decided to leave the tea for later and took the kettle off the burner. He grabbed a small wooden plate for his bread and pulled his breakfast from the belly of the stove. The bread was crisp on both sides, with the cheese melting nicely across the top and the inside still soft. Kakashi sat and enjoyed his breakfast while listening to the sounds of the tempestuous ocean thundering against the shore.

A particularly rattling thunderclap seemed to shake the little house to its core. Kakashi glanced at the window and decided that it was time to go out before it got any worse. He grabbed his net and his harpoon and was just about to leave when Sasuke shuffled from his bedroom, muttering, “…’S really loud out.”

“Well. It is storming.”

Sasuke sent him a rather acidic look. “I know. I’m saying I can’t sleep now.”

“Feel free to brave the elements to catch fish,” Kakashi offered the youth, holding up his net to show him.

Sasuke looked less than thrilled and didn’t answer, just meandered over to the fireplace and plopped himself in front of it. “Hand me a pillow?”

Kakashi obliged, going over to the couch tossing the boy a cushion. “I’ll be back by six,” he said.

“Will you be all right here on your own?”

Sasuke snorted, snatching an afghan off the chair and curling up in a ball in front of the fire.

Kakashi smiled faintly under his mask. The boy would never admit it but Kakashi knew that since his abandonment by his brother, Sasuke disliked being on his own.

Kakashi headed out of the safety of his house and into the storm, treading carefully down the cliffside and down to the sea.

He found a few fish, freshly dead, along the shoreline where the waves were crashing. He quickly stabbed them and pulled them up into the net, which he folded over to make a bag.

He glanced out at the ocean and the bruise-colored sky. He was mildly surprised; the weather yesterday had not hinted at a storm in the least. He was usually very good at telling these things. Maybe I’m getting old, he thought. But I’m not even thirty yet…

It was during this thought that something caught his eye several hundred meters along the shore, the waves throwing themselves upon it mercilessly. Kakashi squinted past the rain.

It was a body.

Kakashi, by nature, was not one to panic easily, but he came pretty damn close.

He froze, water rushing up against his boots, and then he broke into a run, mind racing.

What do I do if they’re dead? No, the ocean can always take them back, but I think the more concerning question is what do I do if they’re ALIVE? Then I could have quite a mess on my hands…

He slowed as he neared the figure and was surprised to see that it was a female. This was not nearly as alarming as the fact that she was completely unclothed.

Kakashi turned around. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw a naked girl. The thought was borderline amusing—You’ve lost your touch, he thought—but it was also mildly worrying. Slowly, he shrugged off his coat, unhappy at how the rain now soaked through his shirt, and turned around to face the girl again.

From the cursory glance he gave her, trying not to focus on any one body part (Kakashi was a man who liked to have his privacy respected so, in turn, reciprocated for others’ sakes), he gathered that she was of medium to slightly tall height, had no noticeable, sultry curves to speak of, and was rather fair-skinned to the point where it almost seemed unhealthy. He tossed his coat over her as quickly as he could, feeling slightly embarrassed as he wrapped the coat around her limp frame.

He gently pulled a long arm from underneath the jacket and felt for a pulse on her wrist. She arms were slender and her wrist bony, he noticed, and he was able to easily wrap his hand around it. He noticed on her skin very faint pink blotches, barely noticeable but still there once you looked. They were almost like tiny spots of scar tissue.
Then he got it—a pulse. Faint, but steady. She was alive.

He slipped her scrawny arm back beneath his coat and focused on her face as he wrapped the coat around her svelte frame. Overly svelte, he noticed (he couldn’t help it—the coat was wet and he was practically juggling a body in his arms).

He examined her and decided that she wasn’t unpleasant to look at, but not drop-dead gorgeous by any means. Nice enough, but not someone you’d write a love poem about. Her cheekbones were high and while her jaw and chin weren’t strong, they weren’t weak either. Her lower lip was fuller than her upper lip and she had a rather nice cupid’s bow. Her nose was nice enough, he supposed—he had come across attractive noses and noses he’d rather not look at, and hers seemed fairly normal. Pert, he supposed, because it was small, with a straight bridge. He himself happened to have a small bump on his bridge, something he was rather self-conscious about.

He put his arms behind her back and knees, lifting her. He was relieved that she wasn’t too heavy—he once had to carry an intoxicated Sasuke back from the pub and it wasn’t an experience he wanted to relive. She had long hair, he noticed—an unremarkable brown color, and not very thick, but with a gentle wave that he thought he liked in girls.

Speaking of, was she girl or woman? He found it slightly hard to tell. He didn’t think she was as old as him, but he wasn’t sure. She appeared to be no more than twenty or so years old, give or take a little.

Kakashi felt slightly overwhelmed. Once he brought her back, what would he do with her? Try and find out where she came from? Let her stay and rest for a while? Where had she come from? A ship wreck, perhaps—but did that explain why she was as naked as a newborn?

He shook his thoughts from his head and decided that he needed to get Sakura. Or Tsunade, but Tsunade tended to be busy with other things, so her apprentice was a decent second.

He finally made it back up the cliffside—a treacherous climb, if he did say so himself, and a lot harder while trying to balance an unconscious girl in his arms. He struggled back to the house, as the winds were picking up, and made it to the door with some effort. He fumbled with the door handle and, with a sigh of frustration, banged on the wooden door, praying that Sasuke would answer.

Sasuke did, opening the door. He was wrapped in a blanket, blinking owlishly. “That was faster than I expected—” he began, and then his eyes fell to the young woman limp in Kakashi’s arms. His eyes narrowed and his mouth opened a little in surprise. To Kakashi’s mild shame and irritation, the first question was “What the hell did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Kakashi replied defensively, stepping onto the placemat. “Here, take her and put her on the couch. I’ll go get some towels.” He handed the girl gently to his tenant, who took her curiously.

“Wait, so what happened? Where did you—WHY IS SHE NAKED.”

“Did you look at her?!” Kakashi growled from the bathroom as he dug towels out of a basket.

“Your damned coat fell off! WHY IS SHE NAKED?”

“That’s just how I found her! Here, since you’ve already undressed her—”

“That’s not fair, she was naked and you know it—”

“—You can do the honors of getting Sakura over here,” finished Kakashi. “I’ll try to get her dry. Oh, go get some of your clothes while you’re at it.”

“My clothes?”

“She’s closer to your size anyway, don’t you think?” Yes, the last comment was a bit of a jab at Sasuke, but at the moment the librarian could care less. He was too busy trying not to notice the body of the young woman on his couch. He tried to approach his task with a clinical mind. It helped a little.

He finished drying her off and gently slipped her into the old shirt Sasuke had given him. He frowned at the breeches. “Really?”

“You asked for my clothes. Do you think I have dresses and skirts? No. I have shirts and breeches and stockings,” Sasuke said with a dirty glance in Kakashi’s direction. “Sorry.”

Kakashi waved it off and murmured, “No, I’m sorry—I’m feeling a bit snappy and overwhelmed. It’s really not your fault.”

Satisfied with the apology, Sasuke donned his coat and left to go get Sakura, who—if Kakashi was correct—would be at the hospital by now.

With a sigh, Kakashi put the blanket Sasuke had left on the chair over the girl, draping it over her frail frame. He sat looking at her for a moment, wondering just what he had gotten himself into, and then decided that it would be a good time to drink that tea he’d been making.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sakura finished her examination and called Kakashi and Sasuke back into the small living room. “I’ve checked her vitals and she seems to be all right, but her body’s weak and seems starved for nutrients. Give her this—” she pulled from her healer’s apron a few white envelopes, most likely with some kind of powder inside, “—in her food for two weeks. This should be enough to last you. In this powder are crushed nutrients and minerals that the body needs to be healthy. Until she can get it from her diet, she needs supplements. As soon as Sasuke came to the medical center saying you’d found a girl on the beach, I figured she wouldn’t be in the best of health physically.”

“You think?” came Sasuke’s voice from the kitchen area. Sakura peered past Kakashi’s shoulder and shot the boy an icy glare.

“I mean, it was likely that she wouldn’t have proper nourishment.” Sakura’s voice had become very clinical, a sign that she was controlling her temper.

“Thank you, Sakura,” said Kakashi, smiling faintly as he took the packets from her. Then he stopped. “Wait, put this in her food for—wait, you think she’ll be with me for two weeks?”

“I don’t see why not,” Sakura said with a shrug.

“How would it look for a helpless girl to be living in the house with two unmarried males?”

“Ah,” she murmured, letting her breath out in a hiss. “Yes, that is a tight spot.” She tapped her finger against the bridge of her nose as she thought. “What if she’s a family friend?”

“She’s Sasuke’s cousin,” Kakashi suggested.

“Did someone say my name?” came the voice from the kitchen, this time sounding like the mouth was filled with food.

“That could work,” agreed Sakura with a smile.

Sasuke poked his head out of the kitchen with a suspicious look. “Yes, I’m sure I heard my name. What are you two talking about in—”

He didn’t finish, for at that moment the young woman on the couch sat up weakly and opened her eyes.

They were all very still, waiting for each other to react. The only sounds were the crackling fire and the pouring rain, creating a general hush over the four.

Sakura made the first move and went hesitantly to the girl’s side, kneeling on the floor. “Hello,” she said gently, “I’m Sakura. I won’t hurt you. Can you tell me your name?”

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. A thin hand went to her throat and she winced as if in pain, but not quite—it was more a grimace of sorrow.

“Does your throat hurt?” questioned Sakura, but the girl shook her head. She pointed at her throat and shook her head.

“You can’t speak?” This was met with a nod.

Sakura sat back on her heels, looking unsure. “Can you write? What I mean is, could you write out what you want to say—perhaps with a quill and parchment?”

The young woman shook her head. Sakura’s brows furrowed. “Then how do you communicate?”

The girl made helpless gestures, her expression almost frustrated, but mostly sad.

Sakura sighed heavily. “I hate when this kind of thing happens,” she murmured. The girl looked mildly upset so the teenaged medic quickly revised her statement. “It’s not that I hate you, I just…these kinds of situations are frustrating on all the parties involved, yes?”

The girl shrugged as if to say she’d never been in this situation.

Sakura ran a hand through her damp hair and sighed again, turning to Kakashi. “That,” she said, pointing at the silver-haired man, “is Hatake Kakashi, and he found you on the beach. This is his home.”

“The clothes are mine, though,” said Sasuke, who had been curious enough to emerge from the kitchen and come into the living room, a somewhat dry look on his face, as if already bored with the whole affair.

The young woman faced Kakashi and Sasuke and tilted her head in thanks. Kakashi got a good look at her eyes—they were a soft, trustworthy green, like a well-worn favorite shirt. They were surprisingly…human. Kakashi had almost been expecting eyes out of a fairly tale he would pick up from the library, large and luminous and fawnlike.

“What can we call you?” asked Sasuke, then remembered. “Oh…oh. Don’t answer that. We’ll pick a name for you, how about, just something to call you until you can communicate?”

She looked hesitant, but nodded.

“Kakashi,” said Sasuke as the librarian gave him a surprised look.

“Why me?”

“You found her.”

“She’s not a lost puppy I can just give a name to.”

“Think of it as a nickname.”

Kakashi fumbled for a moment, then finally suggested, “Manami.”

Sakura and Sasuke looked to the girl, gauging her reaction. She just shrugged, looking mildly uncomfortable at all the attention. Kakashi didn’t blame her—he hated being the center of attention.

Manami, he then noticed, looked exhausted. She settled back on the couch, looking for all the world like she just wanted to sleep.

Kakashi looked to Sakura. “Will you tell Naruto that I won’t be in today? I’d better stay here and keep an eye on her.”

Sakura nodded and Sasuke looked concerned. “I should be at the bakery…”

Kakashi always knew what time it was. “Yes, you’re late.”

Sasuke swore and rushed to his room to get his better pair of breeches and apron.

Sakura looked back to the girl on the couch, who was now drifting off to sleep. “Don’t forget the powder. Try to get her to eat something within the next two hours or so. I wish we had some way to talk to her…”

Kakashi already knew a solution to that.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Manami started crying when Kakashi gave her the fish he’d cooked, god knows why. It completely baffled him. Everyone in this town had fish somewhere in their diet, but evidently she did not. You’d have thought he was trying to feed her a member of her family the way she was going on. It was a noiseless cry, but a panicked cry, like she was horrified.

“What do you eat?” he murmured in confusion, finally settling on trying to give her bread. She acted like she had no idea what it was, just holding it and staring at it. Kakashi sighed and broke off a piece of the soft, spongy bread and pulled down his mask just enough to pop it in his mouth. “You eat it, Manami. It’s bread.”

She gave him an unusual look, then slowly put some in her mouth. After chewing a bit, she decided she liked it and ate with more vigor, devouring the small slice ravenously. Kakashi added the nutrient powder to the next slice he gave her and she ate without question, too hungry to care.

After her hunger and thirst was sated, Kakashi sat in front of her on a small stool. He could see from the firelight that she had a smattering of bronze freckles across her nose and cheeks, something he didn’t often see in adults.

“Look,” he said to Manami, placing a book in front of her. She stared at it blankly. “You said you couldn’t write so I don’t assume you can read—”

But she nodded. He raised his eyebrows. Now, that didn’t make sense. She could read but she couldn’t write? He supposed he should count the fact that she could read as something of a blessing, for it made his job much easier. “This book can teach you to talk with your hands.”

Manami stared for a second, then her eyes widened a little. She looked at Kakashi with a new energy in her eyes, opening the book and examining it, flipping through pages.

“I’ve already learned it,” Kakashi told her, “so I’ll be able to understand you. Sakura will probably know it because she may have learned it for her medical studies. Some other people may too, and depending on how long you stay, some people may end up learning it just by watching you.”

Manami held up six fingers.

Kakashi gave her a puzzling glance. “Six? Six what? Days? Weeks? Months? Ye—” But she had nodded at “months”.

Kakashi’s eyes went wide. “Really.”

Manami began flipping through the book, searching. She came to a word list and scanned it, making motions with her fingers and hands.

I’m looking for a person.

“You’re looking for someone?” questioned Kakashi. “Who?”

Mother, she signed after a moment of searching.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Manami possessed a quick mind, Kakashi learned, as she was memorizing the hand talking with surprising speed. By the time Sasuke got back that evening, she was forming sentences on her own, but had a limited knowledge to what she’d already memorized and was still very much dependent on the book. Nonetheless, he was impressed.

Sasuke saw her sign a greeting at him and misinterpreted, informing Kakashi that she was having a fit. Kakashi looked up from his book as he sat on a chair near the fireplace and informed Sasuke in turn that she wasn’t having conniptions; she was saying hello to him with her hands, and if he’d like to learn how she was doing it, he’d have to ask Manami for her instruction book. The librarian saw curiosity spark in the dark haired teen’s eyes. Sakura and Naruto, Kakashi knew, when presented something that fascinated them, would chase it. Sasuke would hang back and feign disinterest, but in reality he was infatuated with knowledge and learning. It was one of the things that endeared him to Kakashi—he would pretend not to be interested but he was an excellent listener, and Kakashi loved to teach.

The boy unceremoniously plunked a basket on the lap of the girl on the couch, causing her to start a little. She gave him a quizzical look.

“They’re pastries,” he said in his bored voice, picking up a cream-cheese filled roll sprinkled with sugar. “Y’know? They’re sweet. You…eat them.” He narrowed his eyes at her blatant confusion and shook his head, saying, “You’ve never had these? They’re good. They taste good, I mean. Where are you from?”

Manami hesitated, then gestured vaguely at the window. Sasuke and Kakashi looked up simultaneously and only saw the ocean. “Uh,” said Sasuke, trying to remember the scant geography he’d learned from Naruto, who’d always loved that kind of thing, “…the Water Country? The Mist Kingdom is over there, right?”

Manami looked mildly uncomfortable and shifted her legs underneath the blanket.

“We’re not enemies with them, are we?” Sasuke questioned, looking over his shoulder at Kakashi, who in turn shook his head, replying “Not necessarily.”

Sasuke nodded briefly, turning once again to Manami. He looked at the book she was holding, then without warning snatched it from her and began flipping through it.

Manami, indignant at having her book snatched right from her hands, gave clipped and quick signs for What are you doing?

“She’s not too pleased that you took that from her,” informed Kakashi.

“Look, eat your pastries and let me have it for a while,” murmured Sasuke, already practicing small signs with one hand. Kakashi recognized “Hello” and “How are you”.

Manami refocused on the pastries in front of her and hesitantly picked up the cream cheese roll. She glanced at Kakashi, as if asking permission and he shrugged. “Well, he got them for you. It’s only polite to try them.”

Manami took a bite and paused, letting the taste sink in, then chewed slowly, growing excitement on her face. Kakashi watched with amusement. From the way she acted, you would think she’d never tasted sugar before in her life.

Maybe she hasn’t. Maybe she’s from a poor area of the Mist. Kakashi closed his book as his internal clock told him it was time to get ready for bed. He got up slowly, stretching, and then realized he had a problem to address: sleeping arrangements.

“Manami,” he said, “I don’t think I have anywhere for you to sleep…um, here, I’ll take the couch and you can have my bed—”

Manami shook her head and reached for her book. Sasuke made an angry huff when she snatched out from under his nose. She worked her way through it, trying to find the words she wanted, then said, No, that isn’t mine to take.

“The couch can’t be very comfortable.”

Flip, flip, flip. It’s okay.

Kakashi gave her a long look, then sighed. “I guess it’s lucky you’re small,” he muttered, going over to a small chest by the fireplace and pulling out another blanket and a few pillows. “Here, these are clean.”

They smell nice, she signed after a few moments of thumbing through the book.

“That smell is cedar. It’s what the chest is made out of. It comes off on the blankets,” he informed her, helping her stand as he made a makeshift bed of his couch.

This time it took her a little longer to sign, and he had to stay focused to get all of what she wanted to say. It’s not just those soft things. It’s the whole house. It smells nice. There are more smells here than where I’m from.

Kakashi vaguely thought that she never exactly said where she was from.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kakashi was faced with a dilemma.

He’d been home from the library for three days now, entrusting Naruto to take care of things. He trusted Naruto, but a creeping suspicion in the back of his mind told him that to stay away from his beloved library any longer would mean that he’d go back to find it razed to the ground.

Manami had a healthier glow to her face now that gave her a far more pleasant countenance—she’d had the unhealthy pallor of an invalid only a few days before but there was a new radiance to her. She had a nice smile, Kakashi realized. Shy, to be sure, but pleasant. She was attractive enough, but no great beauty by any standards. In fact, to some she could be considered…plain. It was almost a disappointment to Kakashi, who’d read wonderful novels about a lonesome hero rescuing a beautiful woman that he’d fall madly in love with. (Kakashi supposed he had a few more years where he could be considered a “lonesome hero” and not a “lonesome pervert.”) Still, she possessed a certain force of gaze and bearing every so often that he could look at with appreciation. He wondered if she had a lover back wherever she was from.

He considered trying to set her up with Sasuke.

Secretly, Hatake Kakashi loved playing matchmaker. It was more than a happy pastime for him; it was borderline obsessive (not that he’d ever let on to it, of course—he had to keep his dignity). He assumed the love for mentally creating pairings of the people he knew stemmed from his love of books, where—more often than not—a romance would ensue between a few characters. He came across many clichés—the usually-enjoyable boy-meets-girl scenario wasn’t too bad, he supposed, but far too overused—but every so often, he would come across a real romance. Something deep and interesting and dynamic and not always completely unusual—that was what Hatake Kakashi enjoyed.

Of course, he didn’t tell anyone this. He preferred to keep an air of intrigue around him; something that boosted his ego about being naturally introverted and private.

But still, the man watched the village people like a hawk to indulge in his secret hobby. He’d entertained thoughts of his teenaged friends—protégés? students? groupies? He wasn’t sure what to call Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura—in all manner of pairings. He tried to imagine Sasuke and Sakura together and created the appropriate mental scenarios that he could find in a good old-fashioned romance novel.

He couldn’t, to his disappointment. All he could picture was a forced arranged marriage between a moody, distant boy and a lively girl whose quick tongue could get her in trouble. As friends, Sasuke and Sakura were fairly close, but as a married couple…Kakashi shuddered. He wasn’t sure if he could imagine Sasuke with anyone like that. The boy would have to be completely over the moon for him to get married, and over the moon he was not, at least not for Sakura. Despite their friendship and their care for each other, it was a dream Kakashi scratched off his list.

Naruto and Sakura were next, and though he had more luck with them—why not, they enjoyed each other’s company and had friendly bickering—he realized that they were possibly too “friendly”, meaning that they only saw each other as friends and would never get out of that zone. Kakashi had noticed quite a lot of affection on Naruto’s end, but whether it was platonic or not, he wasn’t sure. Sakura’s affection for the blond loudmouth had grown exponentially—he could remember a time when she couldn’t bear to look at him—but still, he wasn’t sure if her feelings went beyond friendship. On Kakashi’s mental list, he’d put a question mark by their names.

He couldn’t get five seconds into considering Naruto and Sasuke as a couple without collapsing into fits of laughter. The problem with that pairing was that, despite how well it could work in one’s mind, he just couldn’t imagine it coming to culmination.

There were other villagers—some library-goers—that he added to his list after getting to know them. A certain young maid, Hinata, seemed to have a schoolgirl crush on his apprentice, which amused him to no end. He would watch the noblewoman peek out over the top of her book to see Naruto scratching his backside or making some stupid face and she would still blush and hide her fawn eyes behind her book with shyness. Ah, young love, he thought. It’s so blind.

Blind indeed—sadly, Naruto was completely indifferent to the maiden, only saying hello to her occasionally. He scratched them off his list.

However, he did notice a certain servant boy’s affections for the Lady Hinata that he was companion to. Kiba, he was sure his name was. The young man was a careful protector of his shy lady, and seemed to be friends with her as well. He looked upon her with affection and concern, and Kakashi noticed that Hinata—perhaps unknowingly—leaned on him for strength. It was a pairing on his mental list that he put a question mark next to—he couldn’t be sure how it would turn out, but he was keeping an eye on it.

He had a few more, of course, but he didn’t focus on them as much. There was the kingdom’s intelligent—albeit apathetic—ambassador Shikamaru that he was certain had something going with the neighboring kingdom’s resident firecracker, Temari—also an ambassador. He’d already put a check next to their names.

Hinata’s older cousin, Neji, was a scholar who attended the library frequently. He was of a lower status than his cousin, but still high enough to have the luxury to pursue studies. He—ironically enough—found companionship with the blacksmith’s daughter, Tenten.

It was not one Kakashi had seen coming, which is why they were his favorite on the list. He was the kind of man who liked little surprises like that. As long as they didn’t throw off his routine, naturally.

Which, he hated to admit, Manami had done with her surprise crash-landing into his life. He thought she was a nice girl, but really—if he didn’t return to his schedule within the next day or so, he would be found lifeless in the corner, with a grave saying “Lost Sync With His Schedule” already made.

It was time to get back to work.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taking Manami to the library was reminiscent of dragging a reluctant toddler around, only Manami handled it without the tantrums or poutiness a child would assume. Initially, she seemed terrified of the most unusual things, like horses (Really? Kakashi had thought when she’d balked upon seeing Prince Orochimaru and his horses strutting through town, A horse isn’t going to eat you alive), but it was soon covered up by frantic curiosity as she signed energetically at him to ask what things were.

“Did you spend your life locked in a closet?” Kakashi had asked with incredulity when she had marveled over a fork and attempted to comb her hair with it. “It’s like you have the mentality of a three-year-old.”

It was just teasing, though—she was blazing ahead with her mastery of learning the hand language, a sure sign of either keen intelligence, unwavering determination, or both. Kakashi was inclined to think it was both.

Kakashi was—to his horror—late in going to the library because Manami wanted to know what a flower was. He’d quickly shown her the sign, resisting the urge to check his timepiece, and urged her, “We can come back later to get it for you, but I have to open the library.”

She’d looked at him with pleading eyes. Please?

“What do you want to do with it?”

I want it. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Kakashi wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this whole situation. How can she not know what a flower is? They’re everywhere.

He’d picked the flower for her and tucked it behind her ear, resisting the urge to just throw her over his shoulder and sprint to the library to get there on time.

He arrived at 7:03. Kakashi was three minutes late, a record time for him.

It was a record he’d never wanted to set.

Manami had sat herself at a table and had continued studying from her book, silently making signs, narrowing her eyes every so often, as if trying to visualize what the gestures were before she did them.

Kakashi luckily opened the library on time—he knew he’d possibly have a conniption if he’d opened it any later—and true to form, Naruto arrived fifteen minutes later, muffin in his mouth.

“Hello, Naruto,” Kakashi said, masking the weariness and relief he felt. Weariness because he’d been away from his comforting schedule for so long; relieved because he seemed to be getting back into it.

“Hey, ’Kashi,” Naruto muttered, spitting a bit of muffin crumbles out. Kakashi patiently swept them off the counter with the back of his hand. “Where’ve ya been?”

Kakashi nodded his head in Manami’s direction. Naruto did a double take at the young woman at the table, his mouth falling open. Muffin crumbs landed on the floor. Kakashi, with a little less patience, said, “Naruto, that’s disgusting.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to gape at her, but she’s pretty,” said Naruto, apparently misinterpreting what Kakashi meant. Kakashi didn’t care if he stared at her, but he didn’t want him doing it with his mouth open.

“Sasuke said you had a girl with you,” Naruto said in a stage whisper. “Said she was deaf.”

Kakashi, out of amusement and curiosity, decided to let Naruto continue believing that. It was just like Sasuke to feed Naruto a lie just to see what would happen. “She’s getting fairly good at the hand language.”

Naruto was fascinated with her in the way a small child is with a butterfly. “Wow! Can I go say hi to her?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Naruto went over to the table where Manami was ardently absorbing knowledge and sat down, eyes wide. He put a hand on the page she was looking at, causing her to start and jerk her head to look up at him in surprise. Her expression turned to one of expectation, as if asking Can I help you?

Naruto seemed a little unsure about how to approach her. “Hi,” he said in a loud voice, waving. “I’m Naruto.” (Here he pointed at himself and then scribbled “Naruto” on the top of her book. She seemed alarmed at his behavior. Kakashi didn’t blame her.)

She looked at Kakashi with distressed eyes. He’s speaking to me as if I’m stupid.

Kakashi, as not to ruin Naruto’s idea that the girl was deaf, signed back, Well, he’s the stupid one, so treat him gently and keep in mind that he’s a moron. He’s relatively harmless.

He wasn’t sure if Manami knew all his signs but she got the general idea. She turned to Naruto cautiously and fumbled over her signs, trying to do something Naruto would get. She pointed at herself. I’m—

She cut off, and Kakashi realized that she didn’t have a sign for “Manami”. Hmmm, he’d have to think about that one.

Naruto spoke slowly and clearly, making appropriate hand gestures with each word. “It’s okay,” he began (making the cheesy a-ok sign with his thumb and forefinger). “I know”—he pointed to his head—“that you can’t hear me.” He shook his head as he pointed to his ear.

Manami’s apprehensive look turned into one of confusion and she threw a suspicious glance at Kakashi. She furtively signed, What is he talking about?

Kakashi feigned confusion and shrugged.

She tried to sign at Naruto, I can hear you just fine, but the boy didn’t know this language. He looked to Kakashi and said, “Well, I know she’s deaf, but is she stupid too? She doesn’t seem to get a word I’m saying.”

There was a long, awkward pause as Manami looked at the mildly-smiling blond with wide eyes.

“Oh yeah,” said Kakashi finally, “she’s just mute. She’s not deaf.”

The smile on Naruto’s face faded just a tiny bit and seemed a little more forced as he said in clipped tones, “But. Sasuke. Told. Me. She. Was. Deaf.”

“Yes, well, we both know how Sasuke is such a tease.”

A mental image was summoned by both Kakashi and Naruto of the scowling, sarcastic baker. Well…maybe “tease” wasn’t the right word; more like “experimental, compulsive liar” was. The thought flitted briefly through Kakashi and Naruto’s minds, followed by two separate thoughts in two separate minds: I’m going to kill him and I’ll thank him later.

She’d always been different, as cliché as that sounded, but it was true—she was a half-breed.

Her mother, the “bride” her village had offered to keep the good fortune of the water god—her father—had been human, and she had given birth to a sea-maiden who was more girl than fish. She had no webbing between her fingers, no inky eyes spread far apart on her head, no tentacles. She had a pert nose and full lips and sharp cheekbones, quite unlike the round, convex face of her father. She was far too human to be considered normal or socially acceptable.

And yet, her father loved her.

Her mother, however, had not, and during her visit to the land, had undone the pact between her and the king of the sea, allowing her to stay on land. The village, however, did not suffer the god’s wrath, for he had loved the human woman dearly and wished her no harm, even though she had broken their bond.

Hurt and lonely, the water god had taken another wife—a proper mermaid—and by her gave birth to three beautiful, completely normal merchildren. His daughters by this wife were considered the most lovely in the entire sea, and his son the most handsome.

His eldest daughter was barely acknowledged, and his her face behind a veil at the social gatherings of the palace.

The only ones who did not treat her with contempt and superiority were her father, and surprisingly, her half-brother.

They were the only ones who didn’t sneer when she lifted her veil, and they were the only ones she would smile at. She didn’t begrudge the other merpeople for scorning her ugliness—she agreed with them. Their idea of beauty came nowhere near her.

The only thing that could be praised about her was her voice. It was admitted that she was the siren of the kingdom, perhaps the whole sea, and she worked her hardest to keep it that way. It was the only thing that redeemed her to them—an ugly bastard child had nothing else to offer, but she had this.

It was, eventually, what she lost.

She wanted to know why she had lost her mother, and if her mother would be proud of her now—she had grown into an intelligent young woman, and her father said that her strength of character—her honesty, her integrity, her diligence—all made her into a child he was proud of. Maybe she wasn’t beautiful—but she knew that humans didn’t always take that into account.

So she had gone where not many dared to venture—the very depths of the ocean, past the ocean bottom in the cracks of the floor, where lava and noxious gases slithered their way into the water. She had gone to see the witch.

The witch, an exiled mermaid who practiced a variety of black magic, was a great beauty, with thick black hair that swirled around a curvaceous form and features that were the epitome of mermaid beauty. Her black eyes had glittered with surprise and excitement when the veiled princess had come to see her. She was lying on her large bed of seaweed, peering at the princess upside-down.

“What would bring the daughter of the sea king to my home?” the witch had murmured, her voice dripping with honey and sweetness, though it was a tainted kind of gentleness.

“I want to become human to find my mother,” the princess had replied, surprised to find that there was no quiver in her voice to betray the uneasiness she felt.

The witch had raised her eyebrows in amusement. “A human? Truly? And when you find your human mother, what do you plan to do?”

“I…I want to ask her why she left.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” purred the witch, turning over on her seabed to gaze at the princess with even more intensity. “What mother would want a child with fins and skin the color of seawater? You were ugly to her, as you are ugly to your pureblood peers. You, princess, do not fit with anyone.”

“I know that,” the princess had said, pulling her veil back and revealing her human face. The witch did not sneer, merely smiled her toxic smirk.

“I would turn back now, princess,” she murmured. “I’ll take pity on you…it’s not often I come across another outcast.”

“I have to find her,” the princess had said, her voice rising in pitch. “It is for no one but myself. I think I have the right to be selfish in this one case.”

The witch seemed intrigued. After a moment of silence, she said, “I will require equal payment.”

“I have no money.”

“I don’t mean money. I mean something of yours. For everything that is given, there must be given something of equal value in return. It is the way it works, princess, or balance shifts too out of proportion. Do we have a deal?”

The princess was hesitant. “I should like to know what I am receiving before I give anything away.”

The witch chuckled, rising and elegantly wandering around the crack that she’d made into a home. “You’re such a good girl. Now, I will change your form into that of a human woman’s and give you six months to find your mother. I suppose that you are going to seek her approval, her love? If you can not achieve this by the end of the six months, you will be called back to the sea and you will turn into water. Should you win her affection and pride, you have the choice to stay human or return to your home in the sea.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I rather like you, though. I will give you another tenant. If you can not win the affections of your mother, if you win the affections of another…no, if you find your true love on the land, someone who can see past the weak and unconfident heart and the merely average appearance, you will be given the same choice—return to the sea as the mermaid princess or stay on land with your mother or your love.”

“Would there be anyone who would love someone as ugly as myself?” questioned the princess uncertainly.

“You’d be surprised,” said the witch, floating to the young mermaid and stroking her cheek with one black nail. “By mermaid standards, you are not considered remotely beautiful. But by human standards, while you would not be a great beauty, you can catch an eye.”

The princess hesitated, then said, “State your terms.”

“I have heard you are the siren of the sea, princess. Is it true?”

The princess shrugged. “It is what the people say.”

A slow grin spread across the face of the witch. “Your body will be paid for with your fins and mermaid appearance. However, your six months will require payment through your voice.”

The princess’s hand rose to her throat uncertainly. “I…I won’t be able to talk.”

The witch snorted. “There are other ways of speaking.”

The princess deliberated, trying to decide what she wanted to do. Finally, she said, “I accept.”

“Sing for me.” The witch’s eyes were glowing with malevolent excitement.

The princess sang, starting with a high, clear note. She noticed, as time went on, that her throat began to constrict and that her lungs began to feel as if her voice were being sucked out. Finally, her singing cut off and she grasped at her throat. All that was left of her voice was the distant echo against the walls of the ocean floor.

The witch smiled and said, “Thank you, princess. Now…I’d get swimming if I were you. I can’t guarantee that your transformation will be timely.”

Alarmed, the princess began to swim from the mouth of the crack that the witch resided in. The witch decided to give her time to make it to the surface.

“I can’t help but feel a little sorry for her,” she murmured, not truly remorseful at all. “I wonder what will happen when she finds her mother.” She turned back to her room and went back to lounge on her bed. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


In the depths of the ocean, a man with an emerald-colored fish’s tail sat in his coral palace’s throne room, his eyes vacant and his body limp. His large first was wrapped with surprising tenderness around a tiara adorned with pale green shells and midnight blue pearls.

Three of his children, each year apart from the other, gazed in on him from a side corridor miserably. They watched him with sad, patient eyes.

“Do you think they’ll find her?” whispered the eldest, a young man with blue-tinted skin and large, black eyes. Tentacles protruded from his head and thin, pale webbing connected his fingers. His sisters were of similar appearance, only they had a more feminine appearance, and both were wearing ornate jewelry and crowns far more intricate and gaudy than the simple one their father held.

The middle, a young mermaid in her late teens, shrugged apathetically, and in a quiet voice said, “It may be too much to hope for.”

“Perhaps,” murmured the youngest girl, who was a lighter shade than the other two and tinted more green, “we should not hope. If we find her remains—or don’t find her at all—it will crush him far more than if he had harbored false ideas of her living.”

They dwelled on that thought silently, then looked in once again on their father.

He was crying, pressing the fist with the tiara against his eyes.

His children were unsure how to react. They backed farther into the hallway so as not to see their father in such a state. The second daughter murmured, “I regret saying those things about her.”

Her youngest sibling wrapped her arms around her, rubbing her back comfortingly. “It is merperson nature to be wary of those who are different, and she was unusual. It wasn’t fair of us, true, but in some ways, we couldn’t help it.”

The brother looked upon his younger sisters hugging and realized, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he disagreed. He had never condoned their harsh treatment of their half-sister, and he believed that they could have helped it. Yet he said nothing. Whatever it was that comforted their consciences in this time of grief, so be it. He had no right to invade and remind them of their deeds.

In the throne room, their father crumpled and cried his eldest daughter’s name.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Manami’s ears perked and she looked toward the ocean curiously. For a moment she could have sworn she’d heard her name—not “Manami”, her real name.

“You coming, Manami?” asked Kakashi, and Manami realized that the librarian was patiently waiting for her to continue walking. She signed hastily, I’m coming, don’t worry, and scampered after him.

Kakashi walked a step or so ahead of her, a small bounce to his step. Manami had noticed—to her amusement—that Kakashi’s mood had improved drastically as the day had gone on. She supposed it was because he had returned to that routine he held so dear to him. The lovely young woman with the pastel-colored hair and the confident smile—she couldn’t recall her name at the moment, but she was the one who had spoken to her first when Manami had first woken up—had told her that Kakashi was the kind of man who ran his life like clockwork. Manami had nodded, not entirely sure what the young woman had meant by that. It had been Sasuke, who was stopping in with those glorious rolls—who clarified.

“The guy’s kinda a freak about punctuality,” he’d translated. “It’s funny except when he wakes me up in the morning.”

Manami had signed at him, Where does he go so early in the morning?

Sasuke had taken a moment to understand—he wasn’t as fast (or as desperate) as Manami to learn sign language, but he was doing well. “Ah…where does he go…when?”

Manami had rubbed her eyes like she was sleepy and made a stretching motion with her arms.

“Oh—in the morning? He goes fishing,” Sasuke had supplied.

Manami had felt slightly ill. She didn’t eat fish—it was too close to cannibalism for her kind. Her diet consisted primarily of seaweed and other ocean plants. It was limited, but it was all right.

She’d taken one of the rolls Sasuke had brought—one with powdered sugar and strawberry jam in the middle—and had nearly died of ecstasy. She wasn’t sure if she could ever go back to seaweed after having some of the food from the surface. Truly—bread, pastries, beef, oranges, corn, carrots, potatoes—they were all delicious, wonderful foods. She’d never truly realized how restricted her diet was, and how tasteless.

And the flowers. There weren’t smells in the ocean, not really—she could sometimes smell the minerals and gases produced near the hadopelagic zone of the ocean, but that was about all. She got to the land and there were glorious smells everywhere, from the flowers—so different than the few flowering but scentless organisms of the ocean—to the foods to Kakashi’s house.

Manami looked at the back of Kakashi’s silver-haired head, thoughtful. She wasn’t alarmed to find that she was rather attached to the quiet man; on the contrary, she was relieved and pleased. She felt like a newborn in the first week of its life—dependent and frightened and curious, and in utter need of a constant and kind presence to keep her grounded. That was Kakashi.

She was just glad that she was rather fond of his personality. He was unique to her, not quite like anyone she’d ever met in her life. Maybe he was a little like her brother—a strong but subtle presence, stable and unobtrusive, tender and thoughtful. She chuckled inwardly, though; her brother was far more like Sasuke, if Sasuke were more affectionate and less caustic. She was sure, though, that in time the boy with the shadowy hair would become more comfortable with her, as he was with his friends—her brother was the same way.

Manami realized then just how much she missed her brother.

It slowed her steps a little, that realization—and the question of whether or not he missed her too.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She was finally able to identify a smell with Kakashi’s home that evening. It had begun to rain a little, something she was able to understand, but had never personally experienced. She had opened the door of Kakashi’s house, leaving the warmth of the fire blazing in the fireplace and into the chilly February drizzle. She inhaled deeply, taking it in.

There was a slightly familiar smell of rain on stones and the scent of the freshwater. Her eyes opened in surprise when she recognized it as similar to Kakashi’s home.

She knew one other smell she could recognize with it: the smoky smell of the fireplace always being ablaze, and now she associated rain.

What was the last smell? It was almost sweet and crisp and unlike anything she’d ever come across. Almost like the cedar smell, but stronger.

She discovered it when Sasuke came back with more firewood. He’d brought two branches of what he called “pine” and “juniper” and had stuck them in a vase in his room.

Manami asked to smell them. There was something familiar about them as they had passed her. And sure enough, there it was—crushed pine needles and juniper berries.

Kakashi’s home was a blend of smells: fire, rain, juniper, and crushed pine needles. It was comforting and cozy, and for some reason it was perfect for Kakashi.

She looked over at him from her place on the couch where she was continuing to memorize hand signs. He was sitting in an armchair before the fire, legs tucked to his side, book in hand. Sasuke had positioned himself in front of the fire, but had fallen asleep against the front of Kakashi’s chair, his head cushioned by the older man’s knee. It was unusual to see the guarded, sarcastic young man in such a vulnerable state—his expression was no longer in a scowl, but an un-furrowed brow, unassuming expression—but it was also endearing. Manami smiled at the items in Sasuke’s hands—knitting needles, a ball of yarn, and the clumsy beginnings of a blanket.

Kakashi startled her when he caught her staring. “I told him I wasn’t going to buy him another blanket. He kept complaining that his room was too cold, so I told him to take up knitting. I didn’t expect him to take me seriously, but that’s Sasuke for you.”

You two are like brothers. It makes me happy.

“Why thank you. I try to take care of him,” admitted Kakashi, putting his book down and affectionately nudging the head of his tenant, but not forcefully enough to wake him. “He may not act it, but he’s a good man. He cares far too much for his own good, but he pretends to care very little. He reminds me of myself when I was this age.”

Why does he stay with you? Manami inquired, then hastily added, You don’t have to tell me if it’s private.

“No, it’s common knowledge,” said Kakashi. “His parents died and his brother left. Sasuke has no family but Naruto, Sakura, and me. He agreed to live with me—I didn’t want him in the streets—and pays for his room and board by making me food and doing some work for me. He’s a good kid, truly, for putting up with me.” Kakashi made a sheepish gesture with his hand, rubbing the back of his neck. Manami thought from his eyes that he had a hangdog smile, but couldn’t be sure because of the mask obscuring the lower half of his face.

Why do you wear that mask?

“Because I look like my father,” was his crisp answer.

…Was he terribly ugly? She'd asked without thinking and felt embarrassed about her completely tactless remark. She had never blushed easily, so she knew her face wasn't red, but it felt hot.

“Don’t beat around the bush, do you?” chuckled Kakashi, looking at her with an amused expression glinting in his storm cloud-colored eyes. (Manami silently wondered what bushes had to do with anything.) “No, he wasn’t ‘terribly ugly’, Manami. He was fairly normal looking. I just look like him, but would rather not be associated with him.”

Why’s that?

Kakashi, though his mouth was hidden, seemed to smile a little unusually; she could see it in his eyes. “He did a few things that weren’t looked upon very well. You give up a few things, chasing a dream. He had to give up more than he expected.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You give up a few things, chasing a dream.”

Manami stared at the wooden beams of Kakashi’s small house. The flames of the fire had cooled, withering and disappearing slowly. Kakashi had long since carried a snoozing Sasuke to the his bed, then retired to his own room.

She, however, found herself incapable of sleep.

More than once she had questioned her judgement on making such a ridiculous bargain, becoming a human with a small chance of success or survival. Now here she was, questioning it again.

She had never really been too sure of herself, unfortunately; she had a bad tendency to second guess herself and always wondered whether or not she had made the right decision. She supposed many people were like that, but not all were. Her sisters, for instance, had a confidence she would never dream of having: all decisions they made were made with the automatic assumption that the decision they had made was the best possible course of action, and whatever came out of it was meant to happen.

Manami bemoaned her innate desire to please others, for it caused her to over-think and deliberate past a point that people found it natural. She had been accused of as wishy-washy; never able to come to a clear decision. She was truly sorry for that bad habit of hers.

There are worse habits, she’d thought, trying to make herself feel better. I could be a compulsive liar or fascinated with perfectionism.


Manami rolled onto her stomach and peered out the window a little ways from the couch, looking out at the roiling ocean with a pang of loneliness. She wondered if anyone would believe her if she told them she was actually a member of the mermaid royal family.

...No, they wouldn’t, she thought dryly, furrowing her brows a little. It even sounded a little ludicrous to her. You were barely the princess anyway. An illegitimate half-breed isn’t considered a princess.

The ocean tossed itself against the shore. Manami imagined that the water was reaching for her, then, when it didn’t find her along the shore, withdrew sadly to report its findings. Each time, though, a new set of waves would take its place, searching for her desperately.

I can imagine that father is upset, to say the least, she thought a little distantly. Kakashi doesn’t understand why the ocean’s been so rough lately, or why a storm came the day he found me that he hadn’t sensed beforehand. But I understand. She smiled a little sardonically. Kakashi wouldn’t be impressed if I told him that the god of the ocean is looking for his daughter, and the ocean is so tumultuous because he has yet to find her.

She frowned, a little melancholy. I don’t think Father can keep this up for six months...or more. Kakashi has to be able to get his meal from the sea, and he can’t when Father’s so worked up. She sighed and settled her chin onto her folded arms, eyes peeking over the arm of the couch so she could still see out the window.

She had seen her appearance as a human for the first time when the girl Sakura had pulled out a strange window from her bag during lunch that day and had stared at it, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Manami had curiously asked (with Sasuke haltingly translating as best as he could) what Sakura was staring into, what she was seeing. The doctor-in-training had smiled and held out the small, circular flatware to her.

In it, Manami saw another person; another female, to be exact. She hadn’t known who she was, though, but she had looked familiar. She had excitedly asked Sakura with her hands if with the circle-glass, could she see and talk to others?

Sasuke, instead of translating, had stared at her for a long time, as if assessing her. “Manami,” he’d said hesitantly, “haven’t you ever looked in a mirror before?”

She had looked at him and nodded slowly. Mirrors were precious below the surface; usually they were stolen from wrecked ships, but it was rare to see one. Manami had seen her face in a mirror only once before she had begun to weep, for it was far uglier than any mermaid’s she had ever seen. The first time she had looked in a mirror and had seen her pale green skin and darker green eyes, narrow face with no fins to speak of, and human features, she had been filled with an unspeakable bitterness and anger at her sea god father, her human mother, and herself: her parents for not disposing of her, a monstrosity that was neither human nor mermaid, and her parents for making such a mistake.

She hadn’t looked in a mirror since, not without her veil that she wore to hide the ugliness everyone knew was there.

But, surrounded by three curious and hesitant teenagers, all of whom were used to seeing themselves in mirrors, Manami had nervously picked the mirror up again, afraid of what she might see.

It had taken her all her might not to betray her emotions: trepidation that she would be disappointed with the face so often called ugly by the merpeople. now transposed on a human; excitement that she may have been actually granted great beauty; and curiosity of what the mystery of her appearance would be.

She’d finally looked and was stunned and disappointed by the utter normalcy. It was more or less her face that she’d had as a mermaid, but without the pale green of her skin, which was now a fair flesh color. She noticed a slightly wide brow, a round facial structure (not chubby, like Naruto’s friend’s Choji’s face; just round), green eyes that were wider than she remembered, and lips that were disproportionate, her lower lip being fuller than her upper lip, that were darker than Sakura’s coral-pink lips but not quite red.

She knew what human beauty was, and while she was well enough, she had seen the pictures of princesses in Kakashi’s fairy tale books to know that she fell short of what a princess should be.

Still, she was curious with her human appearance, noting small details that she’d once overlooked, or things that were added now that she was human: she noticed bronze freckles across her cheeks and nose; a cupid’s bow on her upper lip that she found she was a little proud of; a neck that sloped into narrow shoulders, and unremarkable brown hair that trailed a little ways down her back. She noticed that a few days of being exposed to the sunlight had taken away the sickly pallor Kakashi had said she’d had, and the time she’d spent out of the water had allowed her hair to gain body and thickness.

Nothing bad, but still nothing special, I suppose, she’d thought. Your sisters would probably still call you ugly, though, and you probably still are by human standards too. But it’s nice to finally look more one way than another; it was too difficult growing up as a mermaid with a human’s face.

I’ve never seen myself quite like this, though, she’d signed at Sasuke, silently chuckling. The last time I looked at myself in a mirror was several years ago; I didn’t like what I saw and haven’t looked in one since.

He’d raised his eyebrows, and relayed the message back to Naruto and Sakura. The two had also given her surprised looks.

“Why on earth would you think that?” Sakura had asked. “Your eyes are pretty, like grass or leaves. Mine are too light green.”

Naruto had spoken up with, “I dunno what you were seeing a coupla’ years ago, but what you see now shouldn’t disappoint you. You’re way prettier than Sakura!”

His comment earned him a nasty bash to the head by an irate healer, who had a murderous glint in her eyes. “What was that? After all we’ve been through together?”

The blond had looked sheepishly at his attacker. “Hey, I’m surprised Kakashi hasn’t already pulled a move on her, but I’ve been questioning his se--”

“Don’t go there. Please don’t go there,” Sakura had muttered, rolling her eyes. “Look, just because he’s never...ah, outwardly expressed an interest in any woman in particular, doesn’t mean he’s--”

“Did I say he was? I just said that I was dubious.” Naruto had held up his hands in surrender.

Manami thought she understood but wasn’t sure. Still, considering Sakura’s reaction, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

She’d signed at Naruto, Kakashi has no family? No wife or children, I’m presuming, but what about siblings?

Sasuke had relayed what she was saying and Naruto, with a thoughtful look, had replied, “I don’t think he’s ever been married, nor do I think he has any siblings. His father died several years ago, before we were born, I think, and I’ve never heard anything about his mother.”

What happened?

After receiving her question, Naruto had looked uneasy. “Nobody really mentions what happened with his dad, but I can tell the town wasn’t really thrilled about it.”

Did he love his father, do you know? She was curious; the way Kakashi had spoken of him didn't connote extreme bitterness nor much love.

Sasuke had been the one who answered. “Kakashi is too private. He doesn’t indulge in revealing emotions easily. He’ll recount events to you, and if you become good friends with him, I’m sure you’ll learn about whatever happened from him. I don’t think, though, that he likes to be pitied or sympathized with. He may be punishing himself, or he may be just unwilling to share; in the years we’ve spent with him, we can’t be entirely sure. He’s just a quiet man. It’s not like we wouldn’t have him any other way, though.”

He’s looked away from Manami to encounter his two best friends giving him doe-eyed looks. He’d jolted uneasily and quickly said, “I’mgoingbacktothebakeryBYE.”

He’d disappeared quickly, red in the face and toting an empty basket that had been filled with rolls. Sakura and Naruto had looked to him affectionately and told Manami, “He pretends he doesn’t care, but he’s insightful and really does worry about all of us.”

Manami had smiled ever so slightly, deciding that she rather liked the shy, raven-haired man with the awkward kindness. It rather reminded her of Kakashi, and she wondered whether the boy had inherited it from the man he so looked up to.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Manami had only one clue of her mother, and that was her name: Mei. No last name, just “Mei.”

It probably wasn’t enough to go by, but she supposed that she could enlist the help of her new acquaintances to help her in her search.

She had developed a plan to search through the library to see if Kakashi had records of the town citizens, for the witch’s spell had directed her to this town and her father was the guardian of this village, in a way; it was only logical that her mother would live here. If she could find nothing in the library, she would continue to search elsewhere.

She half-heartedly regretted the loss of her voice, but there was nothing to be done about that now. She just had to make do with what she had: her hands.

She vowed to learn how to write. She had never had writing utensils nor a chance to write under the sea, but she had always had the luxury of examining the writing etched into stones of caves or walls that told stories; it was where she’s learned to read. She knew writing, as well as talking with her hands, were her advantages that perhaps the sea witch had not foreseen.

She smiled softly as she looked in her book the following evening, taking Kakashi’s quills, ink, and parchment, and set to teaching her hands the words she saw on the pages of the book.

Manami spent the the Sunday of her second week on land with Sasuke in Kakashi’s small but crowded kitchen, learning to cook.

The raven was patient, despite his proclivity of easy irritation. The only signs he gave of frustration were neurotically tucking a piece of shadow-black hair behind his ear and a very slight narrowing of his coal-colored eyes.

Kakashi watched the two of them with contentedness, curious to see how Sasuke was when in cooperation with the mute young woman. She watched him carefully but often with impatience or confusion, her forest green eyes watching his hands as he rolled out dough on the flour-covered counter or chopped green and red apples into thin wedges. She hovered near his shoulder, something that Kakashi knew Sasuke hated. He was pleasantly surprised to notice that the normally frank young man was keeping silent on this matter, instead allowing his student to stand wherever she chose.

Kakashi settled back in his chair, listening to Sasuke talk about rolling the dough into a pie crust of perfect thickness, and returned to his book. It was a book of fairy tales, and he was enjoying a wonderful one about a beautiful and brave woman whose creativity saved her life from a bitter king by telling a story to him every night for a thousand and one nights, allowing his curiosity for what the ending would be to keep her alive.

Sasuke was too absorbed in his task to notice his caretaker watching him and their new “ward”, switching between his book and his friends. “Waitaminit, Manami,” he complained, nearly smacking her hand away from the soft, cream-colored dough. “That’s way too thin. You’re not making crepes, you’re making an apple pie.”

I’ve never done this before, the girl complained, her expression irritated and frustrated. I’ve never been required to do anything like this in my life.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Cooking and baking is fun, and Kakashi loves the stuff I make. It’ll earn you some points with him if you learn this.”

I’m not here to earn points with Kakashi, I’m here to find someone. The edge was taken off her hands’ movements and there was a different look in her eyes, but she was still heated with her anger at her poor baking skills.

Sasuke had never been one to ask about anything, hating to feel like he was prying. By nature, he waited until others offered information and didn’t dig for it himself.

But admittedly, he was curious. Who could she be looking for? A lover, a sibling, a friend? His memory did nothing for him; he couldn’t recall her ever mentioning anything, at least not to him.

He snapped back to attention upon noticing that his student had begrudgingly begun to lay strips of dough--of the correct width, to his surprise and amusement--across the pie crust, apple wedges, and special sauce mixture in the appropriate criss-cross pattern. She looked distinctly annoyed, but also a little smug with herself, as she weaved them through each other.

Sasuke could barely suppress the ghost of a smile that flitted across his lips. He glanced over in Kakashi’s direction and scowled, blushing profusely when he saw the man’s eyes smirking at him.

“It’s just okay,” he said gruffly, more for Kakashi’s sake, because Manami had done an okay job. The girl exhaled through her nose slowly, then demanded with terse hand signs, What did I do wrong. Tell me.

Sasuke barely had an answer. He fumbled for a brief moment, then quickly straightened a strip of dough that was barely crooked.

Manami’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Kakashi was watching him closely.

The pressure proved to be a bit much for Sasuke. He practically shoved the pie at the girl and said in one breath, “Now-you-put-it-in-the-oven-kay-Manami-don’t-burn-yourself.”

He detected the barest hint of mischievous amusement coming from the silent girl as she slid the pie into the potbelly stove. “You have to keep an eye on it,” he told her, recovering from the previous slight at his pride quickly. “Kakashi’s stove cooks too fast, so if you’re not careful, it’ll burn.”

She didn’t look like she knew how to say “burn”, nor did she seem to understand the idea of it. She furrowed her brows at him.

Sasuke felt his eyes narrow and he glanced at Kakashi, who wore the same indifferent expression that he usually wore--but Sasuke could see the slight furrow of his brow and the unspoken question: How is she not familiar with this idea?

“It’s hot, Manami,” said Sasuke, taking her sign book from the table, and flipping through it. He quickly taught her the signs for “hot” and “burn”, and told her, “It’s like the fires that we have. You know how we feel warm when we’re near the fire? It’s because it produces heat.” He found the sign for heat, then taught her, pointing at the stove. “That produces heat too, and that’s what cooks the food.”

Manami seemed to connect the ideas when he mentioned the fireplace. She loved sitting in front of the fire, warming her toes as they poked out from beneath her dress--one of the three she owned (Kakashi had some from his mother that he’d saved, keeping in a cedar trunk).

Before Sasuke realized what she was doing, she reached out and touched the stove, probably thinking that it would have the same pleasant, mild warmth of the fireplace that she absorbed from a safe distance. He said, “Wait, no--!” but she had already touched it.

Her mouth opened in a silent cry of pain and her hand recoiled like a spring, flying to her mouth. She frantically pressing her scorched fingertips into a fist, her eyes squeezed shut. She didn’t make a sound as she sat on the floor, instead just silently cradling her fist in her hand.

Kakashi appeared at Sasuke’s side with a towel he’d quickly dampened with cool water. “Put in on her hand,” he said.

Nervous, Sasuke said to her, “C’mere, Manami, this will make it feel better.” He took her hand and tried, as gently as he could, to uncurl her long fingers, but had no success. She seemed a little panicked and winced when he touched her.

Was this her first time ever getting a burn? Sasuke’s hands were covered with tiny silver burn scars from the kitchens. “Manami, work with me.”

Her red hand pulled from his and she asked, What is this?

Sasuke repeated the sign for burn with his hands. “Burn?”

“No,” said Kakashi suddenly, “it’s ‘pain’, Manami.” He reached out and--taking care with her burnt hand--guided her hands on how to say it. “Pain. When you hurt in a specific place, make this sign where it hurts. Where does it hurt?”

Manami, her eyes downcast, made the sign at her hand.

“Good,” said Kakashi. “That’ll answer problems for us in the future. Now here, put this on your hand. It’ll make it feel better.” He held the towel out to her.

She nodded, slightly more pacified, and wrapped the damp cloth around her hand. It seemed to give her a bit more relief, for her brow unfurrowed and she sighed a little.

Kakashi made the sign again, to embed it in her memory. “Pain.”

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his hands.

Sasuke, despite his pity for her, couldn’t shake how unsettled he’d been to realize that Manami had no ability to cry out in pain. She had suffered in silence, but not by her choice.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Naruto didn’t follow routines like Kakashi did, but he kind of wished he had the man’s impeccable sense of timing. Kakashi was never late for anything, whereas Naruto was always late, though he tried to keep it under fifteen minutes. Kakashi didn’t seem to mind him arriving at 8:15 every morning for work, even though he should’ve been there at eight.

But Naruto had an errand to run every morning, which was exactly what he was doing now.

He rubbed his eyes blearily as he made his way to the bakery. The fog from the sea was really heavy this morning, and it made him sleepy and disoriented. He needed an extra pick-me-up, he knew, and Sasuke was always the one to provide him that. With pastries, of course--the baker had a perma-frown etched on his face, and that wasn’t something that could pick anybody up.

Naruto hummed a nonsensical tune as he ambled to the glowing lights of the bakery, which was practically radiating warmth. He went to his usual pick-up place (the back door), and knocked four times.

The top half of the door opened and a moody baker leaned out. “Mornin’.”

“Good mori-kins, how did we sleep last night?” mumbled Naruto as he chomped down on the apple strudel Sasuke had placed in his waiting hands. It was still warm and the dough was perfectly thin. Sasuke was a master at strudels, to Naruto’s delight.

“Awful, thanks,” drawled Sasuke dryly. “Yourself?”

“I dreamt all about you.”

An eyebrow was raised. “...Eh.”

“Just-kid-ding,” sang Naruto sleepily, though less sleepily than before. “You’re not pretty enough to dream about, what with that stupid-looking expression you always wear on your face. You walk toward me looking like that and I always think you’re going to beat me like I owe you money.”

The response was a rolling pin whacked against the blond’s head with such ferocity that it made him see stars and the top half of the door closing in his face.

Naruto chuckled maliciously, taking another bite of the strudel and letting the apple-cinnamon taste fill up his mouth. “Yum.”

He arrived at the library a few minutes later, pleased to see Manami near the window, studying by candlelight. It was getting lighter in the mornings as the March equinox drew nearer, but not light enough that the sun was completely up by eight.

He entered the library and chirped, “Hi, Manami,” to which she looked up at smiled at him, tucking her hair behind her ear. He set his bag down with her and asked, “Where’s the librarian?”

Manami began to sign something, but then remembered that he couldn’t understand. She took the paper and quill she had with her and in shaky, unpracticed script, wrote, He had to talk to Sakura’s teacher.

“You’re teaching yourself how to write?”

She nodded.

“Um...” He stared down at the messy, inexperienced writing, and tried to think of a compliment. “Keep working hard. It’s difficult when you’re first learning, but I suppose it’s good that you know how to read. You just have to practice how to make the letters. For a first-timer, you’re doing really well, I mean it.”

She smiled at him again, and he realized that when she looked proud of herself and happy with what she was doing, she was rather pretty. Not a conventional “pretty”, but a pleasant, happy kind of pretty that made him want to smile too.

It made him wonder. How in God’s name has Kakashi not taken one look at that smile and decided to pay her a little more attention?

He shook his head, wondering if Kakashi was going to live a bachelor’s life forever. Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke had long given up trying to find a girl for him; though he thought it was a secret, it was clear that Kakashi had more fun being matchmaker than he had being matched. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura had come to the most logical conclusion to Kakashi’s dissatisfaction in relationships: the women around Kakashi never measured up to the perfect and amazing women he read about in his books, especially his fairy tales (his favorite to get lost in).

It kind of bugged Naruto to think that there were so many amazing people who would never be with someone because they didn’t meet that person’s high standards. But then again, he figured, those high-standards people probably didn’t deserve someone amazing.

Well, he thought Kakashi deserved someone amazing, even if he did have high standards, which made his last statement rather hypocritical.

(Manami looked over at Naruto in confusion and concern as she watched him slam his forehead against a bookshelf and say, “Hypocritical or not, I’m still right! ARGH DAMMIT I CAN’T SAY THAT AND NOT SOUND LIKE AN ASS.”)

There were plenty of wonderful women in this village who were looking for husbands. It was a fairly large village, being the capital of the kingdom, and had an even mix between the quaint of the seaside, like where Kakashi lived, and more bustle of the city, like where the library and the bakery were. That made for a lot of personality types and appearance types; why couldn’t Kakashi look past his books for once?

Which led him to another infuriating point. Manami and Kakashi: probably not too far apart in age, pleasant temperances, interesting personalities, and for some reason they were completely uninterested in each other. Oh, it was the worst. It absolutely eluded Naruto--and his friends, for that matter--how a young single man who lived with a young single woman who was rather pretty (really, she could try to say that she was plain, but Naruto knew better--she was a fairly nice-looking girl) and was also entertaining and clever, wasn’t interested in pursuing her in the slightest. And, to his surprise, Manami didn’t seem very interested either. She seemed a little lost sometimes, or perhaps more focused on other things. None of those things included Kakashi, or any other men for that matter.

Naruto knew he shouldn't have expectations like that--I guess things don’t exactly work like that, he begrudgingly acknowledged as he shelved some of the medical textbooks he knew Sakura would just scatter around the library later--but he supposed he wanted to hope. Kakashi was getting farther up in age--how old was he now, twenty-seven? twenty-eight?--and damn it all, Naruto was going to see him happy.

Maybe he’s happier being single, said the voice of reason that sat in his head. It sounded (to his annoyance) like Sakura.

Kakashi himself arrived at that moment, entering through the door with a small package in his hands. “Manami,” he said, sliding the package across the table to where she sat, “this is for you form Sakura. Take one of these with your food each day for the next three weeks; it’ll keep your energy up. You’re just about on the way to recuperating in full,” he added with a smile in his eyes.

Maybe it’s the mask, murmured the more-curious, less-rational voice in his head, the one always spouting ideas. (This one sounded like himself.) Maybe because Manami doesn’t know what he looks like, she isn’t attracted to him.

Personality should count for something, Sakura’s Reason Voice told him. It may not be as simple as outward appearances. And for that matter, perhaps she feels something for him but doesn’t want to ruin the friendship they’ve started for something like a potentially unsuccessful romance.

“Phew,” said Naruto aloud, “thank goodness I have you in my head, Sakura, or I’d never think of anything smart.”

Kakashi and Manami both turned and looked at Naruto, giving him a long, mildly curious look as the blond flushed red.

“Of course, Naruto,” was all Kakashi said, exchanging a look with Manami. She signed something, her hands moving as fast as a hummingbird’s wings, which caused the librarian to quietly chuckle and nod. They both smiled, amused at something they understood but Naruto did not.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A certain young maiden stepped off of her father’s merchant ship and as soon as she touched land, she was headed down the cobblestone streets straight for the library.

How she couldn’t wait to see her beloved Kakashi again. The month away while she was being trained to take over her father’s restaurant as a high-society young woman was torture; all manners and business skills and no masked librarian. She’d almost forgotten what he’d looked like.

“Lady Ayame, you’re back!” cried a voice, and she turned with distaste upon seeing that it was one of her father’s workers, Nishi, weaving through the evening crowd from the cobbler’s, a box in his hand. She hoped he finally had gotten those ratty shoes fixed, or even better, replaced.

“Yes, hello, how are you,” she said mildly, remembering the manners that had been pounded into her, doing her best to seem politely interested.

“I’m splendid, Miss Ayame. It’s a lovely evening,” Nishi said. “Have you seen the sunset? It’s glorious.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she said, turning her head briefly toward the sun setting over the sea, not actually seeing it. Kakashi was far more brilliant than any sunset.

Nishi seemed to sense her urge to leave and--with carefully disguised disappointment--said, “I’d best be on my way, Miss Ayame.”

“Thank God. Ah, I mean, have a nice evening, Nishi.” Ayame hadn’t even finished saying his name before she was quickly stalking away.

She walked with a singleminded intensity towards the library, hoping to get there before it closed, but the clock struck six and she knew she was too late.

Her evening ruined, Ayame decided to get a pastry to try and cheer her up. The Uchiha child was a capable baker, and his eclairs were her favorite.

It was outside the bakery that she saw him.

Or more precisely, them.

Her eyes landed first on Kakashi, who was bathed in the pink and orange shades of the sunset that was coming from behind her. Her breath caught as she stared at her masked Adonis, a perfect as a painting as he walked toward her.

But instead of rushing into her arms like she fantasized that he would, he instead appeared not to notice her and actually turned his back to her, calling mildly, “Manami, come on, I’m hungry and it’s time for dinner. I have your favorite tonight, so let’s go home.”

Ayame’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in horror as she heard footsteps, then from the shadows of the bakery and into the light of the sunset came a young woman who ran to and eventually fell into step with Kakashi.

She was taller than Ayame and far leaner--where Ayame was buxom and curvy, this woman was angular and decidedly flat. The top of her head reached Kakashi’s jaw or thereabouts, and she had thick hair that went just past her shoulders. She moved her hands animatedly but said nothing, something that seemed rather freakish to Manami.

The two moved past her, not even noticing her frozen in the street staring at them, heading back in the direction of Kakashi’s seaside home.

What was her Kakashi doing going home with this woman?

Ayame gritted her teeth and tapped her finger against her dress irritably. She would investigate in the morning.

No one was touching her Kakashi.

“Do you only have three dresses, Manami?”

The green-eyed mute looked up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, shrugging. Sakura planted herself in front of the girl and bodily pulled her to her feet to examine her.

“I know these were Kakashi’s mother’s dresses, and they were the only ones he had with him...but she was shorter than you and had wider shoulders,” she said with mild disapproval, her lip twisting in thought. She chewed on her lower lip, holding up with pinched fingers the places where the dress didn’t sit right on Manami’s frame. “We’ll get you some dresses this weekend-- some that fit you, I mean. Is that okay with you?”

Manami nodded and then began to sign at the medic-in-training, then faltered as she remembered their language barrier.

Sakura sighed. “I need to learn to speak your hand-talk. It’ll probably come in handy for my medical work.”

Manami pointed at Sasuke, who was talking to Naruto as the blond dug into a croissant, indicating that the baker still had the book and was busy learning the language.

“Is it difficult?” Sakura asked. “Learning it, I mean.”

Manami shrugged and waved a hand, as if to say “Sort of.” She pointed at her head and made a circular motion with her hands.

“...It’s...a lot of memorization? Practice?”

Manami nodded at “Practice”. She smiled encouragingly, however, and it set Sakura’s mind at a little more ease.

The bell hanging above the library door tinkled lightly as a young woman walked in. Manami and Sakura both glanced over to see a young woman, probably in her mid to late twenties, wearing a fine lilac gown of high fashion, stroll in. Her dark eyes scoured the room quickly, as if searching, and eventually fell on Kakashi, who was at his desk, sorting books.

“When did Ayame get back?” murmured Sakura, her eyebrows furrowing.

Manami shot her a puzzled look. Sakura indicated toward the buxom young woman who was making a beeline toward the unsuspecting librarian and said, “That’s Ayame, the daughter of a merchant and a restaurant owner. Her family provides food at the largest inn here and also sends produce and noodles up to the palace. I heard she went away for a month to study in the art of cooking and keeping a business. It’s a little unusual for women to be involved heavily with men’s work like business, but I suppose it is also unusual for a woman to be a doctor like myself,” she added sheepishly with an embarrassed smile.

Manami used one of the quills left on a nearby table from one of the palace scholars to scratch unsteadily on a piece of paper, Does he know her well?

“Who, Kakashi?” asked Sakura mildly. “I suppose. I mean, Kakashi knows most of the people who come in here. He’s like that.”

Manami inclined her head at Kakashi’s desk, her eyes thoughtful and maybe a hint curious. Sakura glanced over her shoulder to see Kakashi absentmindedly talking to an enraptured Ayame, whose slippered foot was gently bouncing on her toes and occasionally rubbing against the back of her leg.

“Hmmm,” agreed Sakura. “I don’t know if Kakashi’s entirely aware of it, but he is on the market as an eligible bachelor. I suppose he should settle down soon if he was planning on doing it at all. Ayame would be a prosperous choice for him--she’s wealthy and she’s inheriting her father’s business...but I don’t think she’s suited for Kakashi.”

Who is? scribbled Manami. It took Sakura a moment to figure out what it said.

“Oh, I don’t know, I can’t say I’ve really come across anyone who I found suited for Kakashi. But Kakashi is such an amazing person, really.” Her face got dreamy as she said, “I’ve always sort of imagined him meeting a beautiful, kind princess who was very wise and mature but also very sweet and innocent. She’d be the most beautiful maiden in the land, and for some reason or another, that princess would find Kakashi and he’d sweep her off her feet, and she’d decide she could have none other but him.” She seemed to snap out of her reverie and looked over at Manami. “But really, that’s not likely to happen.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Manami’s second week was coming to an end. It was one evening when Kakashi was sitting in his chair as per the usual, reading another book of fairy tales, that he asked her, “What is your family like, Manami?”

His question had given both her and Sasuke pause. They had been sitting on the couch, Sasuke teaching her how to finger knit. Her fingers were wrapped up in yarn and she couldn’t sign at Kakashi. For a few frustrating seconds, she tried to make the signs, then finally she thrust her hands at Sasuke, who took over for her, sliding the stitched yarn off her fingers and onto his own.

Why are you asking this? she finally managed to ask.

“Did I jump to conclusions? I made an assumption that you left a family of one sort or another when you came here. I’m sorry if I upset you.”

It’s okay, I do have a family. I’m just curious as to why you care.

“You’ve become habit to us now,” deadpanned Sasuke. “You said you’d only be here for six months; we need to know who we need to kidnap your from if we end up liking you too much.”

She chuckled silently. Kakashi had come to imagine what her laugh would sound like in his head if she had a voice. He imagined something clear and pleasant, like spring rain and bells.

She told them, I don’t think they’d put up a fight.

This gave the two men hesitation. “Why?” Sasuke finally asked.

She settled back against the couch, lifting her hands as if about to speak, but biting her lip in thought, hesitating.

Her hands seemed to stutter. I...I just...I never really fit in, I guess.

They waited. Kakashi closed his book quietly and put it on the small table next to his chair, and Sasuke’s hands slowed in his finger knitting.

She finally continued. My family consists of me, my father, my stepmother, and three half-siblings: two girls and a boy, all of whom are younger than me. We are a...an influential family, you could say. My mother was from my father’s first relationship; however, she left him shortly after I was born. My father was married about a year later to a woman of very high birth and beauty. She bore him children that are considered the most beautiful in our land. Her fingers faltered ever so slightly, then started again with normalcy. My sisters are quite beautiful, it is true, and my brother is quite handsome. They are charming and well-liked in our community. I care very much for my brother, who treats me with kindness and respect and most of all, normalcy.

Sasuke and Kakashi exchanged quick looks as she continued.

My sisters...not so much. Though I do care for them greatly, I can’t say it is reciprocated. They were proud of their beauty and were ashamed of me and my...abnormalities. They acted as if I was not related to them, and I was often the target of cruelty at their hands. It doesn’t make sense that the eldest daughter of a man of power would not have authority over the younger siblings, but I was...I don’t know how to make the sign for...

She broke off in frustration, then reached around the couch for her book of signs. Kakashi and Sasuke analyzed her warily as she did, trying to puzzle together what was so “abnormal” about her, and why she was any less beautiful than her sisters.

She finally found what she was looking for, and she signed, Illegitimate child.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Manami was surprised when Sasuke insisted on tagging along with her on the Saturday that she and Sakura were going to get her new dresses. He defensively told her that it was always good to have a man around so that no one harassed you as you were shopping. Manami didn’t argue with him, for she hadn’t had much experience in the marketplace.

The normally frugal Kakashi had given her enough money for a fair amount of dresses, provided that they were not too extravagant, or cloth should she choose to make her own dresses. It was a generosity she had not expected, for Sakura--with her satisfying paycheck as the mayor’s assistant and also the head doctor’s assistant--had offered to pay for dresses herself.

Manami had tried to refuse Kakashi’s money, but he had insisted. “At least get one by my means,” he told her, closing her hand around the purse of coins he had given her. “This is money I don’t spend, truly. Do it as a favor to me, I suppose--get a green dress that matches your eyes. It’ll be my gift to you.”

Manami had nearly slapped her forehead and forced him to take back the money, but had reluctantly accepted it instead. What does he mean, “It’ll be my gift to you”? As if he doesn’t already do so much more for me than I deserve. He lets me stay in his home, he provides food and clothing and occupation for me, and he’s even my...

She was pleasantly surprised to realize that she saw Kakashi as her friend. But did he reciprocate? She asked Sasuke this as they were going to meet Sakura at the center of the village.

He studied her hand movements and finally said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his breeches, “It’s hard to earn his friendship. There are people who he is kind to but he would not consider his friends. He’s an unusual guy who’s hard to read. It took Sakura, Naruto, and me years to earn his friendship.”

Manami uneasily realized he hadn’t answered her question. His dark eyes slewed over to her for a brief moment, then flicked back into focus ahead of them, shuffling his hands in his pockets and shrugging his shoulders a little. “Don’t worry. If he didn’t consider you a friend, he would’ve sent you over to Sakura’s.”

A happy warmth spread through Manami’s chest, a warmth that she hadn’t felt since her last performance.

Her smile faltered as she thought back to her life as a princess of the ocean, and her anonymity on land. In all honesty, she preferred the quiet life she had begun here in the above-sea kingdom-- she’d gained fame for having a beautiful singing voice in the sea, but her fame was always accompanied with a bit of a smirk or scorn because of her bloodline.

“What are you thinking about?”

Sasuke’s voice jerked her from her thoughts and she glanced at him. My old life. I wasn’t always mute, actually.

His eyebrows furrowed, then his expression became knowing. “I knew it. It didn’t make sense to me at first; how could someone not have some form of communication with others if they couldn’t speak? You couldn’t write, you didn’t use your hands to speak...it puzzled me. I kind of wondered if maybe you were just having...vocal problems.”

She threw back her head in silent laughter. “Vocal problems”? That’s not even the half of it. If only you knew...

“Knew what?”

Her smile faded only a little and she signed, I don’t think you would believe me. Allow me to keep my secrets for a while. I promise I’ll tell you sometime, though.

He shrugged, rolling his shoulders back a little and glaring threateningly at a merchant who had attempted to approach them with carpets. “Hey, save it, we’re not even in the market yet!” he snapped at the man, who quickly backed away. His dark eyes made their way over to Manami’s face. Though he suspected she was older than him (but probably by only a bit-- she was perhaps twenty to his seventeen), she was a little shorter than him. “I’m not gonna mess around in your private life,” he told her easily. “Don’t think I really have the right. But if you want to tell me anything, I’m listening. It’s something that I’m good at. I wasn’t always good at it,” he admitted with a slight bow of his head, “but I’ve gotten better. It takes really good friends who are patient and accepting to do that to you. I’m trying to be a better friend, to make up for the times I’ve let my own down.”

You’re a good man, Manami told him, her face sincere. You and Kakashi are like my brother, but in different ways. I like it; it reminds me of home. The good parts of home, not the bad parts.

Sasuke wasn’t used to praise. He turned his face away from her to hide the pleased smile that spread across it, then quickly turned back as soon as he had composed himself.

Manami seemed thoughtful, then began to sign. When I still had my voice, which was actually not too long ago, I was considered the finest voice in the kingdom. I would perform for crowds of thousands. I used to be terrified of crowds, mostly because...for certain reasons, I had been scorned. I was not loved by the people of the kingdom, as my siblings were. I hid my face behind a veil and always kept my hands hidden. I was shy and nervous and had no self-esteem or confidence. But when I started to sing, that disappeared. I became someone else. I wasn’t ugly anymore.

“You’re not ugly now, and I don’t know why you have any reason to believe you were ugly before,” said the irritated raven. “I don’t know why you keep saying that about yourself. You look fine, honestly.”

You know, it’s funny, Manami told him with a frown, that someone could tell me I was the most beautiful creature on earth thousands of times, and I’d never believe it; but if they told me that I was ugly, I’d remember it forever. It’s what happens; years of repetition have made this my mentality. Don’t try to change it; it won’t work and I’ll feel like you’re just trying to soothe me. Never once has someone told me I’m not ugly without my saying something first: it always came as a quick response by my brother or my father. Never once had anyone said that I was beautiful, or even passable--and for sure, no one had ever said anything like that without a prompt. My sisters were the ones who were gushed upon: they would go to parties or balls and the people would marvel at and sing of their beauty; I stayed away from such events or, if I absolutely had to go, I would wear my veil.

“What kind of society would tell you to wear a veil if you didn’t meet their standards of beauty?” snapped Sasuke, truly angry at that point. “What kind of community did you live in?”

An elite, exclusive one, but one that had good reason to look down upon me.

“I doubt that.” Sasuke let out a frustrated sigh. “I hate that. What the hell kind of messed up people are those Mist people anyway?”

Manami looked uncomfortable. ...I’m not actually from the Mists.

Sasuke eyed her hands with an unusual expression as she told him this. “...You’ve lost me. Where are you from, then?”

I think I said earlier that a lot of my background is...unusual, and that you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

“Yeah? Try me.”

I come from the ocean.

“You’re right,” he said, not missing a beat, “I don’t believe you. People can’t live in the ocean, and unlike Kakashi, I don’t believe in fairy tales.”

Manami closed her eyes and smiled faintly at the boy’s candidness. Didn’t I say so?

“I hate when people say ‘I told you so.’”

She put her hands up in defense, still smiling slightly.

They finally reached the square where Sakura was waiting for them near the large fountain. She was poking a stick absentmindedly against the cobblestones, a basket tucked in the crook of her arm. She looked up in surprise when she heard Sasuke call her name.

“You’re coming to buy dresses too?” she asked him skeptically. He growled at her and told her that he was there as a bodyguard to protect them from pushy merchants, not as a girl.

Sakura turned to Manami and asked, “What are you thinking? Do you want cloth to make your own, or do you want to pick out dresses and have them tailored? Or do you want to pick cloth and have it tailored for you?”

I don’t know how to make a dress. Can I just get them tailor made for me?

“She says she doesn’t know how to make a dress, so she wants them tailored,” said Sasuke to Sakura, acting as translator. “Also, Kakashi wants to see her in a green dress that matches her eyes.”

Sakura’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “Really.”

“The man said so himself.” Sasuke and Sakura shared a look that prompted Manami to give them a suspicious stare. Sakura clarified, “Kakashi has never been partial to anyone in clothing. And no, I didn’t mean that he’d rather people walk around in the nude,” she muttered, glaring at Sasuke, who was hiding a smirk. “He’s just never been particular about anything like wanting to see someone in a certain color. That’s just not him.”

The three began in their quest for dresses that fit Manami. At the time, she was wearing a nondescript gray dress that was too large for her, sitting on her form shapelessly and rather unflatteringly. It was made of a slightly heavy material, well-suited for the March day. It was beginning to get warmer and sunnier out with each passing day, to Manami’s excitement; she had never truly experienced “sun” outside of seeing the distorted light rippling across the surface of the water. She knew from stories about what the sun did for the skin, hair, and health, and she was looking forward to the effects. She knew that her mother had vivid hair--her father had said it was orange-red like a sunset, and that when Manami herself had been born, that was the color of her hair. Years of being underwater and not getting sun exposure had dulled her hair to an unremarkable brown and her skin (as a human, anyway) an alabaster color that she was not at all fond of. Sakura had told her that her pale skin was in fashion and that many women would envy her fair tones, but in her eyes, she wanted it not so...white, but more of a pleasant peach color, or even darker like Naruto’s.

They entered the marketplace and Manami’s eyes went wide at the amount of activity. Merchants with tents and stalls and shops were calling to people to buy their goods and trinkets; people milled in and out of shops carrying food and baskets full of purchases; there was music and dancing in the square nearby; and the noise was deafening.

...I’m feeling overwhelmed, she told Sasuke, her hands stuttering a bit as she stared, awestruck, at some soldiers on horses that were coming toward them. Sasuke deftly put an arm out and pulled her by the shoulder out of the horses’ paths.

“Keep an eye out for those,” he said, gesturing that she should go on his other side, away from the road. “They’re not looking out for any of us down here and they could trample you. I can guarantee you that just one of those horses weighs three times your amount.”

They’re enormous!

“Yeah, they’re pretty large,” he agreed, re-focusing on making a path through the crowd. “You act like you’ve never seen a horse before. Or a marketplace, for that matter.”

I haven’t seen these things before.

He watched her from the corner of his eye for a long moment, considering this with furrowed brows, then said smoothly, “There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.”

Manami turned her eyes toward the north and for the first time noticed an enormous white palace sitting on a hill, overlooking the town. From such a far distance, it looked small, but she could tell that it was a massive structure.

Who is your leader? she asked Sasuke.

He replied, “King Hiruzen, Sarutobi Hiruzen. He’s a good king; he pulled us out of a war with skill and has been a wise ruler, helping our nation prosper. He has two sons: Prince Orochimaru is the elder and Asuma is the younger. Both would make satisfactory kings, but Prince Asuma is the crowd favorite here in the capital.”

Why is that?

Sasuke shrugged, guiding her through a particularly thick throng of people by pushing on her shoulder lightly. Sakura was plowing ahead with vigor, more or less ignoring them in her search for her favorite dressmaker. “He’s a good man. Down to earth, kind, intelligent, not selfish or self-centered. While Orochimaru isn’t...a bad person, he’s not good at connecting to the people, and he’s far more focused on gaining power. It’s highly suspected that Asuma, despite being the younger, would make a better ruler and probably will be the one to inherit the throne. Orochimaru isn’t thrilled with this. I mean, who would be? It’s his birthright to inherit, but it’ll probably be passed over him. But he’s a sinister man who focuses more on expanding the wealth of the kingdom, rather than using tact to keep us out of war or other disastrous situations. As we’re a seaside town, our port is highly active and we have enough wealth to keep us going. To try and upset the status quo would not end well for us, but that’s what he wants to do.”

And this...Asuma? she asked.

“He’s a smart man with a lot of strategical power; he’s looking to reduce our dependency on alliances to keep us out of sticky situations politically, and to expand our progress slowly and carefully.” Sasuke’s eyes suddenly focused in on a figure and he smirked. “Speak of the devil.”

Manami followed his gaze to a young couple, probably in their late twenties. A dark-haired woman in a white dress with a red flower behind her ear was examining a kettle, tucking her hair back as she inspected the bottom. Next to her stood a bearded man with a relaxed stance and amused eyes. He said something to her, leaning over her shoulder and pointing at a different kettle. She seemed a little irritated and dryly lifted her purse. He lifted his own, which was far heftier.

That man? asked Manami in surprise, examining him again. He’s dressed like one of the common people.

“That’s the source of his popularity. Or more, Kurenai is,” Sasuke told her. “Kakashi’s a good friend of his, and he tells me that Asuma likes to get away from the pressures of being a prince when he can. He comes down here, especially on market days, to visit her and some of the village kids he’s formed a friendship with.”

She is his lover?

“His ‘sweetheart’ is probably a better word for it. He has to be careful. But yes, in essence, they are in love. I’m not sure if his family knows about it. Well,” he amended, “King Hiruzen probably knows about it, because the man is sharp as a blade. He probably knows that his son escapes to go see a girl. I don’t know how he feels about it, since Asuma is expected to marry a princess or other lady of noble birth. He’s probably waiting to see how it’ll play out.”

You certainly know a lot about it.

“I’m just speculating. Where has Sakura gotten to?”

She’s trying to part the crowd. I have a question for you.

“You have my permission to ask.”

Kakashi said something happened with your family. That’s why you live with him. Will you tell me what happened?

Sasuke remained quiet for a very long time after she asked that, and then replied, “If you won’t tell me details about your life, why should I tell you about mine?”

Manami faltered. How did she tell someone that her life was widely considered fictional? I think I mentioned it before...

“Yes, about me not believing you, I remember it. And to be fair, you did tell me some things about your life before coming to the village...or more, washing up on shore. I’ll tell you this much: I wasn’t always like this.”

Like what?

“I don’t know...do you remember me telling you earlier that I’m trying to be a better friend to make up for all the times I wasn’t? Well, that was me. I was surrounded by people who loved me and wanted nothing more than to help me, but I had blinders on. I never saw past my selfishness, my anger, and my goals. Naruto and Sakura probably suffered the worst of it; the close relationship we have now wasn’t like this a few years back. I was...cruel to them, seeing only my own motives. But they tried their hardest and they didn’t give up on trying to get me, the Sasuke they knew, back.” He seemed to grimace a little. “I don’t understand why they didn’t give up or even just killed me to be done with it, but they welcomed me back to them with open arms. It was them--and Kakashi, too, in his own way--that dragged me back and patched me up.”

He looked at Manami then, his face and voice betraying nothing, but his eyes indulging in a gratitude that she could understand, but had never herself experienced. “It’s hard to change your ways and try to be a better person, but there are people who make it worth it. They taught me to not be as sullen and ungrateful, and even though being reserved and somewhat critical may always be my first nature, Naruto and Sakura have taught me to try to be kinder and...well, laugh a little. Enjoy life. Learn to give affection to the people who are important to me, even if it’s just in small ways.” A more pointed look was directed at her.

“Your opinion of yourself can change. It just takes time.”

“What are you two doing lagging behind?” complained Sakura, falling back a little and glaring at Sasuke like it was solely his fault. “We’re almost there, but this whole time I’ve been harassed by merchants, rendering you useless and unnecessary and not doing your job.”

“I was busy helping her,” he said, jerking his thumb at Manami, who nodded her affirmation a little guiltily.

Sakura shot them both dirty looks, saying, “I don’t appreciate fighting a path through this jungle of people for you two...”

“Sorry, sorry, now cool off, and find your dress shop,” said Sasuke, gesturing with disinterest towards the buildings that Sakura seemed to know her way around.

She pointed. “It’s the one with the horse standing in front of it. See it?”

“All right then, let’s go.”

The three weaved through the masses of people and made their way to a small tailor’s shop. Sakura strolled in with ease, clearly familiar with it, but Sasuke and Manami went in with trepidation.

“We need some dresses,” Sakura announced to the assistant, a young woman whose back was turned to them. She turned around and revealed herself to be a very attractive young woman with light blond hair, skin even fairer than Sakura’s, and large blue eyes.

Sakura seemed surprised upon seeing her. “You’re not working for your parents anymore?”

The young woman shrugged lazily, flipping the mass of fair hair over her shoulder. “They thought that I needed experience in other areas to run the shop. They got me a job here. I don’t know how measuring clothes and sewing will help at a flower shop, though.” She was sitting behind the main desk, looking up at them with one eye. The other was masked behind a stylish section of hair. She smiled almost slyly and said, “Hello, Sasuke.”

Sasuke wryly lifted a hand in greeting. “Ino.”

“What would you be doing here?”

“We’re picking out some dresses for Manami here,” he said, stepping aside. Manami had lingered behind him, peeking just past his shoulder, and now was exposed to the young woman named Ino.

The blonde’s eyes roamed up the girl’s frame and she said, “What kind of dresses are you looking for? Gods, you’re scrawny.”

Manami wavered just a bit, then signed, A few for the cold months and a few for the warm.

Sasuke looked back at a surprised Ino and relayed the message. She asked, “You can’t speak? Why’s that?”

Manami chose not to answer. Ino waited for a response, then shrugged. “Let’s get you measured.”

She whipped out a length of string and pointed to a stool for Manami to stand on. “Ask her what colors she’s looking for, and I’ll give you my opinion on what colors suit you and your complexion,” she said to Sasuke, who had sat himself down in a chair in the corner to observe and wait.

“Kakashi wants to see her in something green,” supplied Sakura, who stood next to Manami, moving out of the way as needed.

Ino threw her a mildly surprised look. “That sounds promising.” She looked over at Sasuke. “If the rumors are true, then this is your cousin, is she not?”

Sasuke nodded, remembering the story they’d fabricated for Manami just in time. “Yeah. She’s more like a...fifth cousin.”

Ino bought it, to everyone’s relief. “Well, it’s nice to have you in the kingdom of Konoha,” she said, snapping her string until it was taut. “Sorry, but I have to measure your bust now.”

Sasuke looked away politely as Manami tried to ignore Ino’s smirk. “You barely fit into an A-cup,” she said, ignorant of the blush that spread up her patron’s neck and face. Manami wasn’t one to blush easily, but this was one of the times that she did.

“You’re like a stick,” Ino told her, probably not meaning insult by it but still making her client wince a little. “So scrawny. All angles and knobby. Have you ever taken out someone’s eye with your elbow?”

“I think this is why your parents sent you here, Ino-pig,” said Sakura archly. “To see if you could learn some manners and subtlety.”

Sasuke stared at the ceiling awkwardly as Ino and Sakura bickered for a bit on Ino’s manners. Finally, Manami drew attention back to herself when she stepped off the stool and began to look at some of the lengths of cloth that were stacked on shelves on the wall. She lifted a few, looking at the array of different colors. There were all shades of red on one end of the shop, and then on another wall were greens and browns. She was almost overwhelmed by all the choices.

“Here, come stand in the light,” said Ino to Manami, waving the young woman forward to a window where sunlight was filtering in. “I need to get a good look at your coloring.”

Manami obliged, standing in the patch of sun and turning when Ino told her to turn.

“Your hair has really strong red tints,” said Ino. “More like orange.”

My mother’s hair was that color, Manami signed. Sasuke translated, looking mildly interested in this new information.

“Okay, fair skin, brown hair that has seems to have red-orange highlights, green eyes, and a breast-less hip-less skinny frame,” said Ino, a finger on her chin. “We’ll get you in shades of red, green, blue, and gold. We’ll make the cut of the dresses flattering to your figure. Some men can overlook the less-blessed when there’s flattering clothing on them!”

Manami looked up at the ceiling. She knew her body was nothing to gawk at or even admire; Ino’s was, however, and the girl seemed, whether it was purposeful or not, to be lording it over her. She eyed Ino’s figure as the blonde went to some of the shelves and pulled fabrics from them. She had a very nice body--she was tall, had large breasts and hips and a dainty waist that created an attractive hourglass figure. Another woman, Manami recalled, with a similarly attractive frame, was the woman who had been in the library--Ayame.

Manami looked into the mirror on the wall and tried to stifle her disappointment at her lack of...blessings, as Ino had put it. Perhaps if she had been shorter, her bodily features would have been more natural. Though she had a small waist that she had always sort of liked, she had no hips to accent it--or even make it noticeable--which left her with a somewhat boyish figure. And, the curse of all curses, she was flat-chested. Self-consciously, she raised a hand to her chest and bit her lip at the lack of the lush softness she had often wished for.

Her eyes flicked over to Sasuke, who was looking out the window with his hands in his pockets, wondering if he was someone who could overlook the fact that she was “less-blessed.”

The realization that she had just thought that hit her with a wave of embarrassment and confusion.

A tiny flicker in the back of her mind asked her, Do you like him?

No, she finally decided, but suddenly relented. I’m not sure.

She had felt attraction before. Of course, it had never been reciprocated, and she had never had dreams that she would find a merman who would like her in return. She was not so cruel to herself that she would harbor a hope of returned affections.

Manami hoped that she didn’t feel anything other than friendship for the raven-haired boy with the dark eyes and his hidden vulnerability and gentleness.

I have to focus on finding my mother, she thought, trying to refocus her thoughts and concentration. I'll have resources to go searching for her as soon as I practice writing a little more. She may have passed by me today, and I saw her and didn't know who she was.

She was pulled from her thoughts by Ino, who was returning with cloth. “Manami, I have six colors here for you. If you get out in the sun a little more--which I don’t recommend if you want to keep that complexion--the red tones in your hair will become more prominent and may overtake the brown. But I’m sure you know that; you probably have red-gold hair in the summer and this brown in the winter. I know lots of people like that, don’t worry; they just need the sun to bring out their natural color after the months inside.” She bustled along, unfolding a rich, wine-red cloth patterned with gold flowered vines. “Here, I’ll make a few prototypes of these to put on you, just to see how they’d look. But first, what do you think of these?”

Manami could find no faults with any of the colors and patterns Ino held up to show her. Ino had six cloths: the wine-red with the gold vines; a deep navy blue also made use of the gold-vine pattern; a velvety forest green that matched Manami’s dark eyes closely; a pale gold, silky material that Ino promised would keep her cool when it was warm; a soft sky blue cloth that reminded her of Naruto’s eyes and had tiny golden suns; and a very ordinary but rich brown color that Ino told her would be good for cleaning and traveling.

“We can have the prototypes ready by the day after tomorrow,” Ino told her. “It won’t take too long. Would you like to purchase a dress now to wear while you wait?”

Manami checked her purse and asked how much it would cost. After Sasuke’s translation, Ino replied, “It would depend on the dress you choose. If you’re concerned with cost, we have some that we were going to get rid of that I’ll give to you for a quarter of the price. I can alter them pretty quickly for you.”

The dresses were rather hideous, Manami thought when she was taken back to see them. Even Sasuke’s nose wrinkled in distaste and he said, “They’re awfully...flouncy.”

“Yes, they’re too garish,” agreed Sakura.

Many of them were in crude colors, like unflattering browns and greens, and the rest seemed to be in blinding neons. There were too many ruffles and ornaments for Manami’s taste, but nonetheless she began to search through them, hoping to find one that was not so ridiculous.

Her searching paid off and she found one that was blessedly simple in comparison, but in a rather plain shade of chocolate brown. There was a sheath-like dress underneath that was white. The white hem poked out form beneath the slightly shorter brown one, and where the brown one stopped--just past her breasts--the white was like a shirt underneath, puffing very slightly at her shoulders, tightening on her upper arms, and becoming looser at her elbows, where the sleeves stopped. There was a belt that was slung on the waist with a silver buckle piece that she rather liked, one that allowed the belt cords to hang down, like a tunic sash.

She pointed at it excitedly, looking back at Ino.

“You want that?” asked Ino. “It’s awfully...plain. I suppose the cut is flattering for your frame, but it seems like it was made for someone with fuller hips than you.”

Manami signed, I like it. Can I have this one adjusted for me?

Sasuke relayed her message and Ino shrugged. “If you say so. Come to the back.” She looked over at Sasuke and said, “Wait out here; we’ll be out in about fifteen minutes.”

Sasuke looked over at Manami. “You think you’re gonna need a translator, Manami?”

She thought about it, then hesitantly answered no. Sasuke nodded and said to the girls, “She says she doesn’t need me, so I’m going to go outside for a bit and get some air.” He gave Ino a look that suggested she’d done something wrong. “I don’t know if you have a perfume or an incense or something but whatever it is, it’s hurting my head.”

Ino sputtered a little, trying to defend herself, but Sasuke--in true Sasuke-fashion--was already leaving without a care for what she had to say.

Ino glared at Sakura, who put her hands up in defense. “We try to work with him, but sometimes, he never changes. Be patient with him; he’s frank but he’s not trying to be mean.”

“I bought that perfume with the intent of seducing that boy with it...and now he tells me it gives him a headache.” Ino scowled and put her hands to her temples in frustration. “Ugh, what am I going to do with that full bottle I bought from the chemist down the street?”

“He’s not interested in seeing anyone, you know...” Sakura said as they went into the back of the shop and Manami pulled off the gray dress. “He’s just antisocial and misanthropic.”

“I don’t know what that means. Manami, here’s your dress.”

“Misanthropic means that he’s not fond of other people. But the point is, he got rather sick of girls trying to snag him as a husband and the guys who hated him because of it. He’s sworn of people in general, and seems weary of the idea of ‘love’. Naruto keeps telling him that getting some more friends, and finding a nice girl to be his sweetheart, will open him up a little more, but Sasuke will have none of it. He says he’s just content with me, Naruto, and Kakashi as his family.”

Ino scowled and took out her sewing tools to adjust the dress for Manami, who needed the waist, hips, shoulders and bust slimmed down for her. “I’m surprised that anyone is encouraging him to marry for love. If he keeps acting like that, he’ll only get to marry for politics because no one likes his sour disposition.”

“Ah, the beauty of being a commoner,” said Sakura with a somewhat wry smile, leaning back in her chair. “You get a little more freedom with picking and choosing your husband, especially if your family isn’t involved.”

“And my family is,” muttered Ino darkly, accidentally stabbing Manami with her needle. The girl jumped in surprise and winced.

“Yeah? Who are they trying to set you up with?” Sakura’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

Ino bit her lip for a bit as she tightened laces on Manami’s dress. She swerved behind the girl under the guise of fixing something, but Sakura had known the girl long enough to know that she was hiding her face. “Akimichi Choji.”

Sakura was nonplussed, which was far from the reaction that Ino had been expecting. “So?” she said. “It’s not like no one saw that coming from a hundred miles away. I don’t know what you’re complaining about. The Akimichi clan is one of the four old noble clans of Konoha. Choji’s going to be the next family head--you’ll never have want for money or security. And anyway, everyone knows he’s head over heels for y--”

“I’m not in love with Choji. I don’t know why my father is doing this to me.”

Sakura’s face took on an “are-you-kidding-me” look. “Your clan and Choji’s clan have been connected for ages. It only made sense that a daughter of the Yamanaka would marry a son of the Akimichi. Anyway, unless you can convince your father of a better deal, he’s marrying you to Choji.”

“What about Shikamaru?” questioned Ino, a desperate edge to her voice. “We’re connected to the Nara clan too.”

Sakura snorted. “As long as that guy is still seeing that noblewoman from the Sand, the Nara clan is not going to look in your direction. Sorry. And anyway, you and Shikamaru would bludgeon your marriage into nonexistence.”

Ino pulled Manami gently off the stool so that she could work on adjusting the bust area of the dress, her expression weary. “I don’t know, Sakura. If our clans weren’t connected, I’d be free to marry one of the boys from the town...or even one from another kingdom.”

“You’ve got it made. Ever since it was announced that he’d be the successor to the clan, he’s had a lot of families pushing their daughters at him. Anyway, have you noticed how much sweeter he’s gotten? He’s dropped some weight, too...”

“No, he hasn’t. Stop trying to make me feel better.”

“He has too! Less fat, more muscle. I wish you’d give it a little more thought, Ino.”

Ino sent a half-bitter, half-admiring look at Sakura. “You’re luckier than me. You’ve got Lady Tsunade and her influence to get you a good marriage to your choice of man. Your family’s not connected to any clans, either, so there isn’t the expectation of you marrying someone of their choosing.”

Sakura shrugged and leaned backward again, not quite able to hide her smugness. “I suppose I am lucky.”

Ino sighed as she finished her quick adjustments to the dress and took a step back to admire her work. “It’s hard to flatter such a boyish figure, but I think I’ve done well. Come to the front and we’ll make your payment.”

Sakura admired the dress on Manami. “You look very nice, Manami. The dress is quite pretty on you, and you look lovely too.”

A strange look passed over Manami’s face and she went slowly to peek into the mirror. Once she could ascertain that she hadn’t been mistaken in choosing the dress, she breathed on the mirror to write, I really look. She hesitated as the words faded away, then breathed again and wrote, lovely?

Sakura, who had made the comment without much thought, now realized the enormity of what she was saying when she remembered the girl’s self-esteem issues. “Yes,” she said firmly. “You look beautiful.”

The surprised smile on Manami’s face was priceless.

That evening was no different than all the other evenings. Kakashi retired to his chair to read his book--another book of fairy tales, it should be noted; he seemed to be having some trouble getting his mind off of them--and Sasuke and Manami were washing and drying the dishes from their meal, talking and laughing over some of the things they’d seen at the market. Manami had been so enraptured with the marketplace that she was unable to stop jabbering about it. Sasuke found her fascination with something he saw every week amusing.

I’ve never seen anything like it.

“It’s really not all that great,” he said with a bemused grin. “I don’t know why you find it so interesting. Or exciting. It’s loud and the people are pushy and often times, you end up wasting money there.”

But it’s just so amazing!

“You enthusiasm and naive excitement are commendable, but you’ll get used to it soon enough,” Sasuke promised her as he dried the frying pan. “You’ll be as jaded as the rest of us. Won’t she, Kakashi?”

The young librarian looked up from his book and they could see the smile in his eyes. “I rather hope she keeps her excitement. It’s refreshing. Did you have fun getting dresses today? The one you got is very nice.”

Manami pulled her hands from the water, flinging soap suds as she signed, Yes, I enjoyed it very much! My dresses will be ready by Monday. The green one is very pretty.

“And it matches your eyes, I hope? They’re such a nice color; you need to flatter them.”

Sasuke and Kakashi were pleased to see a shy smile form on her face as she looked down bashfully. Thank you. No one’s ever said that before. You don’t know how happy it makes me that you did.

“It isn’t a difficult task to compliment someone who responds so happily. Now, Sakura said that Ino helped you with your dresses. She’s a friend that Sakura has known for several years. Did you like her?”

I don’t think I knew her long enough to form a solid opinion of her, said Manami carefully before resuming washing a plate. She handed it over to Sasuke, who dried it and put it back on the shelf.

“The only reason that I’m asking is out of curiosity,” said Kakashi, leaning back in his chair and putting his book aside. “I’m just wondering how some people appear to an outsider who hasn’t known them her whole life. I know that you will meet other people soon enough; the sun will be coming out a little more and as it gets warmer, people begin to venture out more. Who knows, maybe you’ll find a nice boy who will court you.”

Manami threw back her head and laughed--silently, of course. Goodness. I doubt a mere six months here--and as an outsider--would be long enough to have sufficient time for a courtship. I saw plenty of young women during the market today that seemed to be on the prowl for men; I wouldn’t want to spoil their fun.

“Good answer,” chuckled Sasuke as he drained the wash bucket out the window. “I know of a few girls who are keeping their eyes peeled for husbands. There’s more pressure on the girls than the boys of the kingdom to settle down. I heard the blacksmith’s daughter, Tenten, is due to be engaged to the Hyuuga boy Neji. How he managed to finagle that--she’s of such a lower class--is beyond me, but they’re pretty happy about it.”

“I can cross them off my list,” murmured Kakashi contentedly to himself, smiling smugly beneath his mask.

“Do you want some dessert? I brought a cake I made home from the bakery,” said Sasuke, going to his room and returning with a basket. Inside was a very simple white cake topped with plump strawberries and sweet cream. Manami could feel her mouth watering as she looked at it.

A thought passed through her head, insidious in its depth: When I go back to the ocean, I won’t ever taste this again. It’ll be back to seaweed for me.

It was an unusual thought, one that gave her pause. I don’t suppose it’s that big a deal, she thought evenly, trying to brush it off. But that one tiny thought--while appearing to be shallowly connected to her newfound sweet tooth--hid a much deeper meaning: When I go back to the ocean, I won’t ever see Sasuke, the person who made this cake, or Kakashi, or Naruto, or Sakura ever again. It’ll be back to merpeople for me.

She knew the prejudices against humans that the merpeople had. She had heard their stories of the domineering and cruel humans who thought they owned the ocean. The stories that were told to her and the other merchildren when they were younglings were ones of barbaric and wicked creatures that skewered merpeople for their own enjoyment and who had no sense of morals or kindness. “Humanity” was a dirty word, synonymous with “cruelty” and “evil”. They were described as the ugliest creatures, with their webless hands, their large appendages called legs and feet, and their pointed features so unlike the fish-like merpeople.

Manami, being half human, had been considered a monster.

She had originally blamed her father--why had he taken a human wife and gave her a half-merchild? Did he not know what kind of life he had sentenced her to when he made that decision? She knew the contract of their bond was to keep peace with the village kingdom by giving a maiden to be the bride of the water god, but it had fallen through when she left him. Still, he had given that kingdom prosperity, always remembering the promise he’d made to the village.

...Or was it love for her mother?

But she was beginning to realize that humans weren’t all that they seemed. The stories of the merpeople clashed with the humans that she knew too much--she was beginning to question their accuracy, and her own race of merpeople. After spending time with Sasuke and Kakashi and Naruto and Sakura, who treated her like one of their own, she was beginning to see the merpeople as elitist and cruel beings who didn’t understand the love and compassion that the humans did.

“Manami,” said a voice, breaking her from her reverie. She looked in surprise as Kakashi stood in front of her, holding a slice of cake on a saucer.

He chuckled and pushed back some hair that had fallen into her eyes. Manami realized with some embarrassment that she was nearly leaning into his hand--she couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched her so gently. “Lost in your thoughts? Try to stay with us, now. We don’t want to lose you,” he said kindly, giving her the sweet. It took her by surprise when she noticed that he’d given her the biggest strawberry. She looked up at his form as he walked back to the table where Sasuke was sitting, unable to bite back the smile on her face.

Perhaps, she thought, a warmth creeping up her chest, my father was able to see the humans for what they are. Maybe he was able to love my mother--and that’s why he loves me, no matter what I am. Because I am her child. I am one of these humans too.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Manami supposed it was a twisted kindness that the sea witch had given her the senses of a mermaid while she was still in the body of a human. It made sense to her, though--she still had the heart of a mermaid, even if it was only half. She knew the sea and it knew her, though not in the body she was wearing.

On Sunday in the early morning, before even Kakashi was out of bed, she was walking along the shore, looking out at the ocean after a restless night of unfulfilling sleep. It was a slightly gray day, and the ocean was the same lifeless color as the sky.

Manami pulled the blanket she’d brought with her tighter around her torso, shielding herself from the cold dampness of the sea air and the broken whisper of the ocean calling her name.

She shut her eyes in sadness, chewing on her lip as it called for her. It sounded like a whole mess of voices--her father’s, her brother’s, her sisters’, and the people of the court all overlaid on top of each other. It was a disorganized symphony of sound as the waves called her name in their steady beat, each time they rolled up against the shore.

The sea hadn’t been the same since she left it. Even Kakashi had noticed it--he’d said with a glance at her, “Since the day I brought you back, there hasn’t been a good day out at sea. I’ve caught fish well enough, but the water’s all out of sorts.”

Slowly, she took her boots off and put her toes in the sand. She slipped out of the blanket and was instantly chilled; she put her arms around herself and jumped a little, trying to keep warm. She was wearing another dress of Kakashi’s mother’s--she didn’t want to risk getting her new dress wet.

She curled her toes, marveling at the feeling of how the sand was clenched between them. With her fins, she had never experienced such a thing, nor had she thought about it. The white sand was fine but also very cold as it shifted around her feet.

Manami looked out at the ocean wistfully. Though she liked it here on land, where she was accepted and even viewed as normal, her heart ached with the primal instinct to swim. As a mermaid, it was all she’d ever done--it was as much a part of her as any appendage was.

The need took over and she went to the water’s edge.

There was a pull, like a string tied around her waist yanking her towards the ocean. That was her home--the sea was her safety. When she was a mermaid, she’d had an ever-present connection with the ocean, like a presence in her mind that was exploding with life and activity yet was more vast and enormous than anything she could ever imagine. When she became human, that connection had disappeared--her mind felt strangely alone and empty, and she wasn’t as aware of her surroundings with the super clarity and connectivity that she’d experienced when she’d lived in the sea. She’d come to miss that other presence in her mind and body, the oneness she had with the water and all its life forms.

She walked into the sea.

There was a sudden hush all around and the ocean stilled, the waves barely moving, like small ripples. Manami was suddenly very aware of the sea--like she’d regained a little of the connection. She sensed the hesitation, the probing of the currents around her calves--so different and unfamiliar from her fins--and the foreign material of her dress, which was pooled around her.

...Hime? the ocean whispered in its own voice--a siren’s call in a melodious sigh.

She reached into the depths of her soul, hoping to call on the mermaid inside of her, to assure the sea that she was safe. She summoned all her emotion, all the connection she had with the sea, and in a single pulse, let it escape from her.

There was complete and utter stillness, and then the calm was abruptly shattered.

OTOHIME! roared the ocean, and before her suddenly was a wave that came at her with a power she’d never expected. It slammed into her, wrapping its currents around her, dragging her back to the sea.

NO! Manami thought in a panic, clawing at the water. Her head was pounding with fear as the water tossed her around, trying to drag her back to her ocean home. It doesn’t understand that I can’t go back with it! I can’t breathe! I have to tell it!

But she was unable to access the same sense of her mermaid self that she could when the sea was calm; now she was utterly and fatally human in every sense.

The sea was cold and rough, something she’d never experienced as a mermaid, and her crazed thoughts suddenly zeroed in on what her father’s face would look like if his waves brought back to him his daughter, frozen and lifeless and with a pair of legs instead of fins.

This can’t be happening. She opened her mouth in a silent scream and thrashed around, but she didn’t know how to swim with her legs. Though the water was still shallow, she had to fight with her whole body to get any kind of gain against the sea, which was trying to drag her back, only following her father’s orders but unaware that it would kill her.

She was suddenly slammed against the ocean floor and gasped as she hit the pieces of shells and rocks that were embedded in the sand. That gasp was the last of her air and she felt a burning cold in her chest and remembered once again her human lungs.

Her thoughts were still rushing madly even as her vision was staring to spin and fade. They jerked through the possibility of escape, the fear of dying, her gentle father whose heart would be broken when she died, her friends on land that she would never get to say goodbye to, Ino making dresses that she would never get to give to her client, Sasuke making breakfast for three not knowing the third person would never come to breakfast, Kakashi waking up and not seeing her on the couch, Kakashi pushing her hair back, Kakashi’s gentle gray eyes and giving her the best strawberry...

An ache filled her chest as her thoughts filled with the librarian, her first friend, and she wondered if he would look as upset as her father had when she disappeared. She could see him finding her boots and her blanket on the sand and staring out at the sea, wondering where she was with his furrowed brows and his melancholy eyes.

Something inside her cracked and she felt an explosive wave of determination and sorrow mingling in her veins. With her last burst of energy, she pulled her fury and strength from within and sent it roaring into the waves: LET ME GO! I CANNOT GO WITH YOU!

The searching sea settled a little, as if hurt. Manami used its distraction to jerk herself from the water, throwing her head back and inhaling sharply.

...Otohime? the sea whispered sadly as she shakily got to her feet and staggered forward, blinded by the saltwater in her eyes and coughing up the liquid in her lungs. Her damp dress clung heavily to her shivering frame. Her sight was blurred as her eyes swept along the shoreline, trying to remember where Kakashi’s cliffside home was. Something moving toward her from far away caught her eye, but she couldn’t make out what it was.

Otohime, why are you leaving? the sea sighed in its whispered siren’s call, breaking her heart as she felt its confused sadness, like a child not understanding why an older sibling was abandoning it. Your father...

Manami tripped in a sinkhole and fell flat on her face in the water, getting a mouthful of wet sand. She spat it out quickly and was dismayed to realize that she was rendered nearly sightless all over again. Sea, I can’t go with you, she tried to send out as she was still lying in the water. My soul is all that is left of me that is mermaid. I am human now. You can’t bring me back with you! I must stay here and complete my task. She pushed herself up unsteadily again and stumbled toward the shore. She tried to send out the feelings of forgiveness she felt--she knew the sea was just trying to do as her father had ordered--but she knew that the forgiveness was a transparent mask over the fear and sadness she felt. She still loved the ocean dearly, but for the first time, she was frightened of it too.

Otohime, the ocean cried as Manami reached the water’s edge; she stepped on to damp sand and the connection was lost, fading into a phantom of a feeling. It filled her with an emptiness that was like having a loved one ripped away from her; the crushing loneliness brought a dull ache in her stomach and chest that felt like it could cripple her. That pain overtook the need to empty her lungs and stomach of saltwater and she choked as she registered her grief. With a silent cry of sorrow at losing her connection and the weakness in the aftermath of her ordeal, she began to sink to her knees but was suddenly caught by a pair of warm arms that quickly lifted her. She was startled by the warmth and opened her eyes in surprise, blinking the seawater away. This distraction also caused her to again realize the need to empty her human lungs of saltwater and she suddenly coughed violently.

“Manami, Manami,” said a panicked voice, distant but growing closer as she re-focused. “Manami, try to calm down and breathe.”

She pressed herself as close to the broad warmth as she could, her shivering arms clutching around someone’s neck tightly as she hacked and shook, trying to get the water out. Someone was holding her close, an arm around her back and supporting her legs beneath her knees. Someone with strong shoulders and a lean back and arms, powerful but also very careful.

This person rubbed her back soothingly as her coughing subsided and she relaxed a little, her body still shaking with the aftermath. “Breathe. Just breathe, Manami.” She was disoriented, but she recognized that voice. “By the gods, did you get caught in a riptide or something? I come out here, ready to go and catch a few fish, and I see you get swallowed up by a wave. When you didn’t surface...well, I can’t say I was as scared as you, but I was pretty terrified.”

...Kakashi?

She leaned back to look up at him but stopped cold.

No, that can’t be Kakashi. But...what?

The man in front of her looked embarrassed. “I know I...look different,” he said uneasily. “I don’t normally go fishing with my mask on. Or my shirt, for that matter--it’s good for your health to get a little cold air, but nobody’s ever out here to see me.”

Manami was still confused, until she looked up at his eyes. Sure enough, they were his--gray like the sea after a storm, gentle and careful.

Except, now she had a face to go with the eyes.

He really had no reason to be hiding behind that mask, because even with her befuddled, still-panicked mind, she could register that he was fairly handsome by human standards. A strong, angular jaw and chin, medium-sized lips that were quirked in a cautious smile, and a nose that was straight except for a bump on the bridge. His hair hung, dripping wet, around his face and in his eyes.

“Are you doing a little better now?” he asked, and she found that she was having trouble prying her eyes away from his lips. It was strange to see his mouth moving after all this time only seeing a mask.

“Manami?”

Startled, she jerked her arms from around his neck to answer “Fine”, but the sudden motion made her balance shift and she hastily threw her arms back around him, clutching him like a child.

This made him laugh. “A little better, I see. I’m sorry I didn’t get here faster. That must have been terrifying. You’re shaking pretty badly.”

Her teeth chattered and he suddenly realized the implications of this. “You’re cold! We need to get you back to the house, now.”

Kakashi rushed back to the house with Manami in his arms securely, the girl still stunned from the ordeal and the shock of Kakashi’s face immediately afterwards.

Why is he hiding? He has a nice face for a human.

After carefully making his way back up the cliffside and to the house, he kicked the door open and called to Sasuke. The raven groggily poked his head out of his door but seemed to startle awake as soon as he saw Manami, limp and dripping seawater.

“Please get a fire going,” said Kakashi quickly. Sasuke did a double take, his eyes widening at his guardian’s exposed face, but decided that it was not the time to worry about it. He swept quickly over to the fireplace and put the wood in, lighting the match to a piece of paper and tossing it in.

Kakashi went into his room and Manami realized it was the first time she had seen it. The whole room, though simple in decoration, was absolutely drowning in books. They lined the walls in shelves, sat in piles on the floor and on Kakashi’s desk, and she even saw a few poking out from beneath his bed.

“Do you mind if I sit you on the bed?” he asked cautiously.

She was filled with a desire to keep clinging to him. Though her clothes were sopping wet, his shoulders were still far warmer than her. She tightened her grip around his neck, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck.

She felt safe there, cradled in his arms. It was soothing and secure and she felt like she fit there, surrounded by his warm and comforting scent.

Manami felt him exhale once in a short laugh. “Look, you need to get out of that dress or you’ll catch a fever. I’ll go get one of your other dresses and a blanket and you can get changed. I’ll go out and heat up some tea, all right?”

Reluctantly, she nodded. He set her down, as carefully as if she were made of the finest crystal, on the bed. “I’ll get your clothes.”

She nodded mutely, still shivering a little. He smiled at her once over his shoulder and her heart gave a little stutter of relief. Kakashi is safe, she thought again. The sea didn’t understand my limitations as a human but Kakashi did, and he helped me.

He returned with the most comfortable of his mother’s dresses, a light blue one made of a material as soft as kitten’s fur. She smiled weakly but gratefully, and as soon as he was gone she peeled off her wet dress and slipped into the blue one.

She still felt unsure on her own feet and she sat back down wearily on Kakashi’s bed. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of the room. It was a scent that was permeated throughout the whole house, but was strongest in here and a little different. While the rest of the house had the subdued smell of pine, cedar, and fire, this room had an intoxicating kind of warmth in the scent, making it more personal than that of the rest of the house.

Manami scooped up the wet dress into her arms to let dry in front of the fire and headed out to the living room.

“Manami!” said Sasuke when she came in, walking quickly towards her and putting his hands on his arms. “Kakashi told me you got caught in a riptide. You’re not hurt, are you?” He took her chin in his thumb and forefinger and, with a furrowed brow, turned her face to the left. He winced as he told her. “Looks like you got a little scraped up, but at least it’s not worse than that.”

He took the dress from her arms and hung it to dry on one of the hooks that lined the wall near the fireplace. “Kakashi’s making tea right now.” He threw the man in the kitchen a disgruntled look. “And when you’re done with that, go put a shirt on.”

“Will do,” called Kakashi cheerfully from his place near the stove. The kettle was starting to whistle, and he added tea leaves to a filter.

Manami watched him in fascination, uneasy with the fact that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. She noticed all kinds of small details that she never thought she’d see-- a scar traveling from his left ear and past his jaw and down his neck, a mottled mark of his bicep that appeared to be another scar, the slope of his neck and shoulders and the curve of his biceps and forearms.

“Fishing,” Sasuke suddenly said, causing her to rip her eyes away from Kakashi. Sasuke was eyeing her with curiosity in his eyes. “You don’t get a body like that from being a librarian. You get it from being out on the sea fishing and being in the court guard as a soldier--”

“Sasuke, enough,” said Kakashi lightly. “It’s not fair that you tell my stories without asking.”

Sasuke looked abashed and fell silent. Manami grabbed one of the blanket the boy had knitted from the couch and crawled over to the fire, wrapping the blanket around her and trying to regain feeling in her toes.

“You all right?” She looked back at Sasuke and gave him a little smile.

I’ve been better, but it could be worse, she offered with stuttering, shivering hands. This isn’t so bad.

His dark eyes softened and he came forward to sit beside her. He sat there for a moment before silently grabbing his own blanket to wrap around himself. “You’re getting your dresses tomorrow,” he said in a light tone, as if trying to distract her with enticing news.

Yes, she said, I know.

It was then that she remembered that in her moments of panic, she’d imagined Ino spending her time and effort to make six beautiful dresses only to find out that her client had died.

The reality of the situation made her shiver, but the thought of how Ino would have been so sad to have made those beautiful dresses and how no one would get to wear them caused her to feel an inexplicable pressure in her chest and throat. Her eyes burned with hot liquid that began to stream down her cheeks. Her teeth chattered and she let out a noiseless, choked breath.

“...Manami?” asked Sasuke in alarm, leaning towards her, perched on his hands. “What is it?”

She fumbled with the words, as if her hands were her stuttering voice personified. Ino...she would-would’ve made those dress...dresses for no-nothing! She would be so...heartbroken. It m-makes me sad!

Sasuke sat back, disquieted and unsure of what to do. Manami heard him murmur, “...You're thinking about Ino's dressmaking going to waste, right after all that? ...You stupid...your compassion...is...” and trail off, instead biting his lip as he looked at her. She continued to shake, heaving noiselessly as the heat continued to slip down her cheeks and into her mouth. She tasted salt and it reminded her of the sea.

She’d never done this as a mermaid. She supposed that her human body had reflexes and reactions different than that of her more fish-like body, and that this was one of them. It was soothing and heartbreaking at the same time.

What is this? she asked, barely able to move her hands. Her sight was blurred but her vision cleared as more of the hot liquid spilled from her eyes. As her eyesight returned, she saw that now Kakashi was crouched next to Sasuke, concern clear on both of their faces.

“Don’t you know?” asked Kakashi quietly, reaching out a hand. His palm cupped her cheek as his thumb wiped away the fluid, gentle as a sigh. The tenderness of the action actually caused more to overflow, but accompanied with a different sensation: a warmth in her chest. “These are tears.”

The silver eyes of the water god Ryujin snapped open as the sea whispered the events that had come to pass. He felt the aching mourning of the water as it conveyed to him his daughter and how she’d resisted the water taking her home--and more importantly, why.

In shock, he sat up straighter in his throne as he went over the event once again, this time in more detail, allowing the sea to become one with his mind in its entirety.

He felt the sea’s surprise when she appeared faintly near the western shoreline, the curiosity as it reached toward the figure, and the confusion when it encountered a pair of legs--a human? It questioned the two-legged being and, surprisingly--

“It’s me.”

There were no words spoken, but it was his daughter’s “voice”--her mind, her soul--telling the sea of her presence. Ryujin was completely thrown. Why was his daughter a human?

He experienced how the sea desperately tried to pull her back, only wanting to serve his wishes, and the confused panic it felt when the princess struggled to escape. Finally, she exuded from her a burst of hysteria, crying out to the sea that she could not go with it, that she was human now and water would be the death of her. He felt her fear and her longing swirling together in the feelings she sent out into the ocean, he saw the terror and anguish in her bright green eyes, felt the pain in her heart as she broke the connection with the water.

She’s alive, he thought, relief pulsing through him.

But at the same time, there was fury.

There was only one who could have done this to his daughter, only one who could conceal herself and her wickedness from his presence--the nure-onna, the sea witch, the water-snake woman banished to the cracks in the sea floor.

He was in her lair, materializing from the water in his water dragon form, within the moment he realized her involvement. “Nure-onna, show yourself,” he snarled, twisting his silvery body to catch her lurking form, snapping his razor teeth.

She shifted in the shadows, her teeth gleaming and her eyes glowing with delight. “Ryujin.”

His blazing blue eyes were level with her faster than her eyes could travel, but she showed no emotion other than her usual mischief and cunning. In her sultry voice, she purred, “I was wondering how long it would be until you came knocking.”

“What did you promise her?” Ryujin asked, his rumbling growl deceptively calm. She eyed his teeth and slithered from the shadows, revealing her true form--not mermaid, but serpent with the head and torso of a woman. Her tail stretched, thick and black, behind her as she floated daintily away from the immediate danger.

“Six months as a human,” she answered truthfully, sliding back into the safety of the shadows. “She wanted to be a human. I took her fins and her voice in exchange for six months.”

“What were the reasons?” questioned Ryujin, his eyes following her maliciously. The nure-onna, brimming with sly confidence, disappeared from sight and slunk along her walls and ceiling, casting her voice like a ventriloquist off of corners and crags.

“No daughter likes an overprotective father.”

“Answer me before I banish you farther below!” roared Ryujin, his teeth snapping dangerously at the dark. The nure-onna cried out as her tail was ripped in to and quickly recoiled. The scent of blood filled the water and gave away her location.

Ryujin pinned her to the jagged wall of her cave with a massive claw. “ANSWER ME.”

“She went to seek her mother,” answered the nure-onna, trying to regain her sense of calm.

The shock value of what she said was all she needed. Ryujin’s massive claw slipped away from her and he jerked back, trying to understand.

“...Mei?” he asked quietly, long-buried memories of the red-headed enchantress he’d given his heart to surfacing in his mind’s eye. “She went to find Mei? Why?”

“Seeking approval, no doubt,” she replied with a smirk. “It makes sense. The bastard daughter of a human and the sea god, scorned by her subjects, her peers, even her own family, goes looking for the first person to deny her approval as being worth something: her mother, the first person to toss her aside. She went to go prove to that woman that she is more than just a worthless half-breed.”

Ryujin sank back. A day hadn’t gone by where he’d tried his hardest to show his daughter that she was loved. He couldn’t halt the torment that she experienced every day--it was too much even for him, and would put her through further humiliation if he berated the kingdom or made a decree saying that his daughter was to be treated with respect and not discriminated. But she was not only a bastard child, she was also a half-breed, possessing too many human characteristics and too many fish characteristics to be considered “normal” by either species--Manami’s human face, hands, hair and eyes, coupled with her gills, green-tinted skin, and fin made her almost completely half-and-half: always teetering between one being and another, never fitting into one category. How she’d been scorned and laughed at for it.

But he’d tried to give her all his love, to show her that regardless of what she looked like or what her species was, he still thought she was beautiful and that she had so much to offer. Manami was gentle and shy, patient and friendly, and yet she went through all that hatred. She harbored a very heavy sadness--and he even knew that she was secretly bitter about it--and there was always a bit of blame hiding behind her dark green eyes when she looked at him.

But that she’d been desperate enough to do this broke his heart. That she sought approval from her mother this much made him question: Had he done enough? Should he have done more? What did he do wrong?

What did his daughter really think of him? What did she think of herself?

“...And the price?” he finally asked.

“She ceases to be if she can not meet the term she asked for: approval from her mother.”

The claw slammed into the nure-onna again, but this time she was expecting it, not even flinching as Ryujin made the ocean churn with his fury. “RELEASE HER FROM THAT CONTRACT!”

“I can’t,” she snapped, “that’s not how the spell works. I can’t undo it; I can only lift it if she has reached the terms at the end of her six months. There is another clause to this spell, if you’re patient enough to hear it.”

Ryujin hesitated, unsure if he wanted to know.

“If,” she continued, “the princess can find true love, she can live. She must find the person who accepts her for her alone, regardless of the way she looks or her true nature as a mermaid. This person will teach her to understand her worth and to realize she can be loved, when all she’d ever been taught was that she was a hideous creature that had no right to live.”

Ryujin flinched. His love for his daughter was never enough to shield her from the hatred of the merpeople, and he knew that all too well.

His rage and sorrow subsided only a bit. “I...commend your...pity. It shows how much you’ve changed these hundred years.”

Her response was only a smirk. “Ryujin, you don’t understand. This is far from pity. This is cruelty. The hope that she has, that perhaps someone beyond her home will love her...when it is crushed, it will be more devastating to her than the impending death that comes with it. Humans are as heartless and wicked as us. Though she will be one of them, there will never be full acceptance for who she is. Not when they find out that she had never been one of them in the first place.”

And, to his horror, Ryujin realized that she was right.

He would never see her again, now--she was doomed, condemned by him for bringing a half-breed into the world and allowing her to be subject to misery. His sweet, green-eyed angel who looked just like her mother, punished to a life of solitude and rejection and then a lonely death, all for the crime of being born.

With a roar of despair at his lost daughter, he burst from the caverns of the nure-onna and let his fury and wretchedness fill the sea.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Manami ended up falling asleep in front of the fire, but Kakashi cautiously lifted her and set her on the couch. She curled up and nestled into the blanket he put on top of her.

Sasuke was sitting in Kakashi’s chair, sipping his tea and staring at the young woman. Finally, his dark eyes slid over to Kakashi and he muttered, voice muffled by the teacup against his mouth, “Put your shirt on. And your mask. It’s freaking me out to see you without it. I know this isn’t the first time for me but still. It’s like seeing you without an arm or a leg.”

“That hideous, huh?” Kakashi joked lightly, winking at the teen. Sasuke shivered and sank back into the chair with a dark look. “I’ll get them on. I have to get her shoes from the beach too.”

Sasuke looked back at him again and chewed on his lower lip as he thought. “It was lucky you were there. What happened? I had a feeling you weren’t giving me all the details earlier.”

Kakashi sat down on the edge of the couch near Manami’s feet. “It was strange,” he said finally, putting a hand on his chin. Sasuke looked at the puzzled, almost uneasy expression on his guardian’s angular face and realized just how much he had come to read from just Kakashi’s eyes. “I was going out to catch some fish but I saw Manami out there, walking along the shore. I wasn’t too surprised, because she’d been tossing and turning all night--I could hear it from my room.”

“I couldn’t.”

“You’re a deep sleeper. Sometimes I wonder if you’re dead.”

Sasuke looked a little smug. “So what if I sleep well? No matter, continue.”

“I knew she hadn’t been sleeping, and I heard her go outside. I decide to give her privacy and was going restring one of my nets but I kept an eye on her too, just to make sure she was safe. She took off her shoes and the blanket she had wrapped around her and kind of stood still, and then went to the ocean. She walked in maybe knee deep.” Here the librarian went quiet and leaned back against the couch, watching Manami from the corners of his eyes.

Sasuke’s brows furrowed. “Kakashi?”

He rubbed his chin briefly, then said, “As soon as she stepped into the water, it went...still. The sound of the waves disappeared, and it was as motionless as a pond. She just stood there for a minute, and out of nowhere this wave just...exploded out at her. It made me jump out of my skin, it was so sudden. Next thing I knew, she jerked underwater and didn’t come back up. It looked like she was being dragged out to sea. It scared the life out of me and I started running for her. I was terrified that I wouldn’t make it, because I was far away...but she managed to drag herself out. She was pretty shaken so I carried her back.”

“Bet she enjoyed that,” Sasuke mentioned slyly, gauging his guardian’s reaction.

Kakashi looked up at him and actually seemed a little crestfallen. “Actually, I think she was somewhat alarmed. I wasn’t sure if she recognized me for a few moments.” He stood up and reached for his shirt and mask, which were draped across the back of a kitchen chair.

“I’m going to go out and try to get a catch before I have to go get a few things from the produce stall,” he said, looking over at Sasuke. “I’ll come back in fully clothed, I assure you.”

“Don’t forget to get Manami’s stuff from the beach--”

Sasuke was cut off by a deafening clap of thunder that caused them both to jump.

There was a long silence as the two slowly looked at each other, brows furrowed and surprise plain on their faces.

“...Where did that storm come from?” asked Sasuke finally, sliding off his chair and rushing to the window. After a long, stunned silence, he said in a soft voice, “Kakashi, I think you should see this.”

“This is insane,” protested the librarian as he went over to the window. “The weather was fine ten minutes ag--”

His speech came to a halt as he stared out his window in shock. The ocean was no longer the dark blue they were so accustomed to, but a dangerous gray that reflected the threatening clouds swirling in. Lightning struck along the horizon and the wind was picking up with a viciousness that was unheard of at their part of the sea. A storm was brewing that shocked even the experienced fisherman Kakashi, who had seen his fair share of dangerous--even lethal--weather out at sea.

“Where did that come from?” he said, unable to conceal his shock. “What caused it? There’s usually a day’s warning of a sea storm blowing in, but this...this...”

There was a long pause as lightning lit the house and thunder rattled the windows. Slowly, Kakashi and Sasuke looked over their shoulders at the sleeping girl on the couch.

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed and he spoke slowly. “...Funny story you were telling earlier, ’bout the sea acting weird when Manami got in.”

“...Yes,” agreed Kakashi, “but there’s no possible way that this is related. The weather and the sea are two very different things.” He looked over at Sasuke for reassurance, but the raven threw his hands up in defense.

“Don’t look at me for confirmation, I can’t say anything. But it’s awfully strange--the storm seems to be starting in the sea. Come on, Kakashi, you’re the one who reads fairy tales, not me.”

“I may read fairy tales, but I don’t expect them to be true.” Kakashi finally looked away and headed for the door. “Keep an eye on her. I’m going to go get her shoes and stuff before the rain comes in.”

He left quickly and made his way down the cliffside, feeling the wind buffing against him like it wanted to knock him over, but Kakashi had been fishing and sailing since he was a child--his sea legs were well developed and his balance couldn’t be swayed. He jogged along the shore, pulling on his mask and his shirt as he went, and eventually found Manami’s boots and blanket, both just slightly damp.

He looked out at the sea and could see her in his mind’s eye, standing there with her dress pooled around her. He shivered slightly, remembering the heart-stopping jolt of terror when she hadn’t emerged from the water, and wondered when he’d become so attached.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I almost died.

Manami sat on the cliff edge near Kakashi’s that evening, a blanket around her shoulders. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and her toes peeked out past the fabric. She started at them, absentmindedly wiggling them and curling them in and out.

I was nearly killed today. She tensed at the thought, pulling the blanket tighter and shifting. She was a few feet away from the edge of the cliff that was a steep drop down to the beach below. The sun was near the horizon, turning the sea shades of orange and pink.

It had taken nearly being swallowed up by the sea for her to realize this body’s limitations and utter mortality. As a mermaid and the daughter of a god, she had little to fear in the way of death--no risk of drowning, a long lifespan and not a high chance of her being attacked by any dangerous creatures, seeing how she had the connection with the sea that allowed her to sense everything around her and know where threats lay.

But this human body was so fragile, the life so easily snatched away.

Humans have so little time. It only served to remind her of something frightening: she had five months and a week left to find her mother and win her approval.

She had a few ideas of how to start looking but she didn’t even know her mother’s surname. She only knew her first name and that she lived somewhere in this city.

She looked down at the ground again and felt close to weeping with the overwhelming emotions in her chest, many that she couldn’t identify or know the source of. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared that I’ve gotten myself into something I can’t achieve. And then where will I be? She recalled her bargain--and remembered that her final outcome was life, or death by becoming one with water and ceasing to be.

Manami lifted her head and sighed, her stomach roiling. I just have to find her. I can search through records in the library. I can ask people who might know. I will find her.

The storm had stopped a few hours before. The ground was damp but the grass was soft. Manami pushed her toes against the cool ground, burying the lower half of her face into her elbow to look out at the sun.

She loved sunrises, and the sun dropping below the horizon was just as beautiful, if not more. She never got to see them in the ocean--more often than not, she was in the palace, hiding from view. She only came out at certain hours when the other merfolk were resting in their homes. She enjoyed that solitude of being able to swim freely, without her veil.

She never went to the surface, though, for--despite being half of one of the monsters--she had heard the stories about unsuspecting mermaids who went to the surface only to be ensnared in a net or skewered by a lance wielded by a cruel human.

She heard footsteps behind her and she turned her head just enough to see a trouser leg and a boot. “Manami,” she heard Sasuke’s voice say, “what are you doing?”

She disentangled her hands from the blanket and signed, Just thinking.

“Are you feeling okay?”

She nodded, then after a moment’s hesitation, slowly shook her head. I feel sad and still a little frightened.

“That’s understandable.” He was walking over and sitting next to her now, curling into a similar pose but more relaxed--his arm draped over one knee while the other leg lay out flat, and the other hand supported himself against the ground. “I would feel similarly. It takes a bit for the shock to wear off. Once you get back on schedule, you’ll feel okay. Besides,” he turned his head to smile slightly at her, “I know Kakashi’s thrilled to have the extra help at his library.”

She also smiled faintly, nodding. I need a night to come to terms with it all. I’m alive, and I’m thankful for that. She shivered.

Sasuke peered at her for a minute, then put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re safe, if it means anything to you.”

She turned and looked at him with mild surprise and then broke into a grin. Yes, it means something. Thank you.

Seeming pleased, he nodded and they lapsed into silence, watching the sun descend below the horizon. As the faint afterglow of twilight slipped into dusk, Manami suddenly wrapped a tight hand around Sasuke’s wrist and shook it frantically.

“What, what?” he asked, alarmed and looking over at her. She was staring up at the sky, her head back and her mouth open. She quickly released his wrist and signed, What are they?

“What are what?”

The little lights! The ones in the sky!

Sasuke looked up at the sky and only saw stars emerging as the sky turned steadily darker, and there was no way she could have been talking about those. What lights could she be seeing?

“I’m not following, Manami,” he said uncertainly and felt a trickle of annoyance creep into his brain as she gave him a confused look. “I’m serious.”

The ones right above our heads. They’re white and cover the... She drifted off and gestured at the heavens.

...She was talking about the stars, he realized. “Manami,” he said slowly, squinting at her, “those are stars. They’re there every single night and have been for hundreds of years, apparently. Come on. You know this.”

She suddenly flopped down on her back, startling him, and spread her arms out, just gazing in wonder up at the sky. Slowly, her hands moved up and her signs were clumsy because she was too focused on the nightscape. The countless stars in heaven’s field were mirrored in her verdant eyes, wide with awe and joy. They are so beautiful. I’ve never seen them before. I can’t believe I never took the time to come out at night and see them.

Sasuke stared at her as she gazed at the skies, feeling unsettled.

This was yet another piece in a puzzle that Sasuke was trying to piece together about this strange young woman. How could she not know what stars are? Even children understand this. His eyes narrowed and he pondered this, vowing to unravel the mystery surrounding her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Sakura’s short lunch break the following day, Kakashi gave Manami permission to go with the medic to pick up her dresses, tossing her the bag of coins that she’d given back to him after the first shopping trip (the shop didn’t make pre-payments).

Manami had insisted on coming to the library on Monday, even though Kakashi had suggested that she stay home and rest after the troubling event the day earlier. Manami had declared that it was in the past, that she’d be more careful going near the water, and that she was ready to go to the library again.

I’m not a weakling, she’d told Kakashi, and I have to earn my stay here by helping out.

“I admire that,” chuckled the librarian as he handed her her boots as they were preparing to leave. “All right, you can come if you’re sure you’re up to it.”

After waving goodbye to the half-asleep Sasuke, the two had made their way to the library as the sun’s light was just beginning to peek over the horizon. As it was now March, it was starting to rise earlier each day. Manami never got tired of looking at the dawn and the sunrise--the dawn as they were walking to the library, and the sunrise by the time they were there--and her lagging behind to look at it made Kakashi ten minutes late...every day.

While this had initially made him grumble, he had started to rationalize it with himself (something he’d been a little shocked about once he realized he was doing it). I suppose a few minutes is okay, he’d thought resignedly after one day. I mean, the library doesn’t open til eight, and getting there ten after seven--fifty minutes before it opens, and nearly two hours before anyone comes anyway--won’t make much difference in the end. I shouldn’t rush her...she acts like she’s never seen a sunrise before.

He’d never rationalized with himself before concerning time, so this was a new and slightly uncomfortable sensation he had to get used to--the idea that it was okay to be a few minutes late. He had no idea, really, why he was doing it; he didn’t have to walk as slowly as Manami as she stared and tried to bite back her smile at the way the sun slid its way gloriously past the horizon, admiring the shades of pink, red, purple, and orange.

His father had enjoyed the popular adage “Time waits for no one”, which he’d used to train a young Kakashi to be on time for everything. It had helped immensely in his teenage years and early twenties when he’d been a soldier, as Kakashi had practically become a disciple of that principle. Time waits for no one. Kakashi learned that in many ways, and he began to see it everywhere. Time did not wait for the old man, bent with age, to have that time to say goodbye when it took his life. Time did not wait for the person who lost their job because they were late. Time did not wait for the doctor moving too slow whose patient died because of their tardiness.

Time certainly hadn’t waited for his parents. It was something that couldn’t have been helped.

Time waited for no one, so Kakashi had vowed to always work with time. Time was a gift, a precious thing; it was not to be wasted or misused. You couldn’t bargain with time--if something had a time limit, time would come knocking down to the last second.

As Kakashi watched Manami and Sakura leave the library to go pick up the dresses, he remembered that somebody else had a time limit of six months.

He ambled over to the window, thoughtful, and watched her until she disappeared into the crowd.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Are you excited?” asked Sakura, to which Manami nodded.

Because Sasuke couldn’t be with them that day, Manami had thought ahead and brought with her a slate and piece of chalk that Kakashi sometimes used to put up notices in the library. Today, however, he had no need of it, and had allowed Manami to use it.

I’m really excited. It’s a new experience for me.

Sakura mildly wondered what she meant by this--Did she never get new dresses where she was from?--but was distracted by something else. “Sasuke told me yesterday that you had a pretty scary near-drowning in the sea.”

Yes, I was caught in a riptide when I waded out in the water, Manami scribbled, allowing Sakura to gently steer her through the crowd when she was looking down and writing. She had decided to stick with what Kakashi had assumed had happened; it was no use trying to tell her that the sea was trying to bring her home.

“That’s terrible! I’m glad you’re all right, but I see a few scrapes on your face...”

I’m fine, Sakura, really! Manami smiled as she showed her the slate. Sakura nodded, but bit her lip and touched the scratches along the side of Manami’s cheek. “I could get you a few ointments for your face, to assure it doesn’t scar.”

You should get a few for Kakashi’s face too, but maybe there isn’t an ointment to heal scars? Manami suggested, remembering the scars that traveled down Kakashi’s jaw and neck.

She didn’t notice how Sakura had suddenly stopped. When she did realize that her friend was not with her, she blinked and swerved around, trying to find her. She saw Sakura several paces behind her, her green eyes wide and her mouth hanging open a little.

“...Wait. Wait. You saw Kakashi’s face?” asked the girl incredulously when Manami walked over.

Yes, wrote Manami in confusion. She figured that those close to Kakashi would have seen his face but Sakura’s stricken face was hinting otherwise.

Sakura clapped her hands over her mouth and squealed a little, jumping with excitement. “WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE?!”

YOU’VE never seen it?! Manami was stunned. She tried to draw a picture of what it would look like but she didn’t know how to draw at all--she just managed to make an awkward square with dots for eyes and a few lines for the scars, the nose, and the mouth.

Clearly, I’m useless at likenesses, she wrote, grumbling a little.

Sakura brushed it off. “It’s okay. Just tell me--is he handsome?”

Manami thought about this, trying to give a better answer than “yes” or “no” to Sakura because she wasn’t entirely sure herself.

In the mermaid court, there had been many handsome mermen, and she had known how to identify that kind of beauty when she saw it. She was a poor judge of human beauty, but she knew what was aesthetically pleasing to her when she looked at human faces, and she assumed that it was something of a natural tendency. Anything that was “beautiful” was pleasing to the eye, she guessed, though she still considered humans far less beautiful than mermaids. It was part of her upbringing and environment, she supposed; she’d been taught that humans were ugly, but she was beginning to see differently.

In any case, she still had to decide about Kakashi’s appearance. She’d seen more men in the marketplace that were more beautiful than Kakashi, and had realized that these were noblemen with perfectly coiffed hair and painted skin, elegant clothes and a regal bearing. In contrast with those men with their elaborate styles and perfect faces, Kakashi could be considered...well, dull, she supposed, and maybe even plain, with his scar-scuffed skin, his spiky, unkempt crest of hair, and his lack of regality, grace, and airs. He wasn’t beautiful; compared to her brother and the other mermen, the noblemen and even some of the village men, he wasn’t even the most handsome.

And yet...there was something about him that had thrilled her. The proud, sharply defined bones of his face, the scars that dragged their raw imperfections across his body, the way his eyes were gentle and piercing at the same time, and the corded muscle and sinew of his neck and shoulders and arms--they had all convinced her of the promise of enormous strength behind the exterior of the blasé but gentle librarian. Manami, after being lifted, had realized just how much bigger and bulkier Kakashi was than her, another thing he kept hidden by the clothes he wore, so plain and ordinary compared to the garish clothes of the noblemen or the more styled clothes of some of the villagers, tailored to accentuate their best features.

Was Kakashi handsome? Well, no, not by everyone’s standards. But what was he then?

Well, she wrote, deciding to answer a question with a question, what do you consider handsome?

Sakura looked thoughtful. “Hmm. There’s a lot of different types, I guess. Like, I think Sasuke is attractive, but in a different way than how Prince Asuma is attractive.”

Manami considered this. It’s probably closer to the kind of handsome you think of when you think of Prince Asuma, but no beard. In any case, I think that he has a...subdued kind of handsome. He has some scars, and his face is very angular, but he has a strong facial structure and good expressions. She was having trouble putting how he looked into words that would fit onto the slate (which was crammed with her tiny scrawl anyway).

Her friend didn’t seem to mind the vague description. Sakura looked a little over the moon and was grinning somewhat foolishly. “Tell me more,” she sighed wistfully. “It’s every woman in this village’s dream to pull off that mask and see what’s under it. You’re so lucky you and...”

She suddenly straightened and her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Sasuke,” she hissed, a murderous gleam in her eyes. “He saw it too, didn’t he?”

Manami nodded, suddenly a little afraid.

“Damn him!” swore Sakura. “He’s probably seen it more than once, even, and never told any of us about it! Ooh, I’m gonna kill him. Naruto and I have been trying to see that face since we were twelve, and SASUKE BEAT US TO IT.”

I’m sure it’s not a big deal for him, otherwise he would have told you, Manami tried to reassure her, but Sakura would have none of it.

“That backstabber,” she muttered, crossing quickly across the street and towards the dress shoppe, dragging Manami by the sleeve. “I bet he was waiting for the perfect time to lord it over us...”

The two entered the dress shoppe and Ino looked up from her spot behind the front counter. She had bags under her eyes, but she wore a smug smile. “You’re gonna love this, Manami,” she said proudly, hopping off her stool (which clattered to the floor, only to be ignored by Ino) as she rushed into the back room to pick up the orders.

The two girls followed the blonde into the back, both slightly excited and slightly nervous to see the dresses Ino had made for Manami. Ino was chattering as she searched through a closet where several dresses could be seen (Manami paled when she saw one covered in feathers and hoped desperately that Ino hadn’t done anything more than the “simple” that Manami had requested). “Because you’re flat as a washboard, I did a few things to hide that, like adding a few pleats and gathering the fabric around the bust, or making sure there was a patterned cloth there to distract from your non-chest. I tightened up the waists and let everything else below it stay loose and flowing, which gives the illusion of hips, which you don’t have either. But! You do have a small waist, and we can accentuate that and lie our way through everything else. Also, I played with the necklines so they hide that you have zero cleavage, but show off your shoulders instead, because you do have nice shoulders.”

Sakura and Manami exchanged glances. Sakura fought the urge to snicker at the look of terror on Manami’s face, unsure of what she was about to see.

Ino emerged from the closet with a stack of dresses in her arms. “Okay, put them on. We’re going to see how these work out.”

She tried on all the dresses at Ino’s request, for she wanted to see if any adjustments needed to be made or if she could have done better in some places. Despite the girl’s complete lack of manners and chafing bluntness, Manami internally was impressed with Ino’s drive to have made the dresses perfect.

Ino, it seemed, had a knack for dressmaking, for--just as she had said--each dress flattered Manami’s bust-less and hip-less figure, giving the the appearance of an hourglass figure where there was not one. She tried on each with growing excitement at the way they hung off her body and flattered her features with their colors and designs.

The pale yellow one was first and it settled gently on her skin like a breeze; Manami languished in the airy lightness and softness of the fabric. It was styled, Ino jabbered at her, similarly to a “toga” which, apparently, was a common outfit in the Sand Country. The fabric pleated and gathered seamlessly in even spaces down the dress and there was a gold band midway between her navel and her under-bust that brought a little shape to her waist. Ino had added three-quarter sleeves, “For the warm months,” as she said.

She rather liked the wine-red one that was next; it was in a simple style with a square neckline which was decorated with gold ribbons weaving in and out in a braid. The pattern of vines and golden flowers were on the skirt of the dress, leaving the torso part mostly free from pattern. As if to compensate for that, Ino had added a waist-trimming--another braided gold ribbon--in addition to a built-in bodice. The blond assured that this would give the illusion of a bust. Manami bit her lip at the jab and Sakura nearly smacked her forehead, muttering something about vain and snooty dressmakers.

The tried on the two blue dresses next: the sky blue one with the tiny golden suns and then the dark blue one with the vine pattern. The dark blue one was identical to the red one that she’d just tried on; Ino supported this with it being the popular style. The sky blue one, the one that was the color of Naruto’s vibrant eyes, was slightly different and far simpler, without the subtle frills of the others. The fabric was something Ino dubbed “chiffon” and while it wasn’t the softest thing Manami had ever felt she did enjoy wearing the dress. The sleeves were loose and came to her elbows where they tightened, and the rest of the dress followed suit--loose and flowing but for a few places where it was cinched and pleated, like in the waist area.

Her traveling-cleaning-informal dress was next; it was a rich, saturated brown and made of cotton; soft but sturdy and the plainest of them all while still being flattering. It had long sleeves and a scooped neckline but unlike the others it made no attempt to manipulate the fabric to create a hourglass figure for Manami. There was a strip of fabric sewn into the waist area for Manami to tie as she pleased, and the dress reached her ankles, but that was it. No frills or ruffles or pleats--this one made her feel like herself while wearing it. It was comfortable, and it was almost her favorite.

But she had one more to try on, and that she did, a smile revealing the shine in her eyes.

By far, her favorite was the green one.

It was the one Kakashi had requested, the rich, forest green dress that was possibly the simplest of them all, besides the brown dress. The fabric was velvety and soft to the touch, and the design was modest and unassuming, but still flattering--similar to the brown dress in every way but for the neckline, which was V-shaped. It made her eyes appear larger and more vivid, something that she discovered was a good thing. In her old life, she would avert her human eyes, ashamed at how they were so different from the monochromatic black eyes of the merpeople. Her sisters had teased her about her eyes being green and white instead of all black like theirs, but now, they looked pretty on her.

It was the first time she’d ever felt that way about any of the human features that had once separated her from the rest of her world.

“Let’s get these all in a box for you,” said Ino, taking them back to the front. “You can wear that dress now if you want, Manami.”

Manami nodded. Even if she could speak, she wouldn’t have been able to say much at all. She was practically shaking with giddiness; this was new and thrilling to her--both feeling pretty and wearing something made especially for her, something with affection put into the making of it.

They paid for the dresses (Sakura insisted on covering some too, since Manami didn’t have any income) and to their surprise, Ino shoved another package at them.

“What’s this?” asked Sakura, but her voice had a tone to it that hinted that she knew what it was, and the fox-like smile on her face made Ino flush and look away.

“I made another one,” she muttered, shoving the package in Manami’s direction. “I got kind of carried away, I guess. It’ll fit, because everything else did and this is with the same proportions.” She eyed Manami pulling out her purse and quickly added, “This one’s on me.”

Sakura’s eyebrows shot up and she leaned back, studying her friend. “What on earth is this, Yamanaka Ino?”

Ino couldn’t seem to make eye contact with Sakura as she said, “Choji suggested it. That I make one ‘just for fun’, I mean, because he...saw how focused and energetic I was making your other ones. So there.”

Sakura’s smile was so smug that Manami was surprised that Ino wasn’t impulsively reaching out to give her a good smack. “Choji was visiting and that prompted a good deed from you? Well, well...”

Ino seemed to gather herself again and sneered at her childhood friend. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said haughtily, but there was no mistaking the flush on her cheeks and nose, whether from pleasure, embarrassment, anger, or all three Manami wasn’t sure. “Now get out of my shop before I take it back!”

“That’s our cue, Manami,” Sakura said with a grin, dragging the other girl by her elbow out of the door just as Ino launched something at the medic--a wad of paper, to Sakura’s amusement. “Real threatening, huh?” The two grinned and threw back their heads with laughter--Sakura’s giddy peal and Manami’s silent shaking.

“She definitely likes him. She just doesn’t want to admit it.”

I’m sure, Manami scribbled on her slate. My sisters were often coy like this as well, thinking no one could possibly see through them.

They chattered back and forth giddily for some time over the possible outcomes of Ino’s growing feelings and agreed to do their best to help it along.

Sakura soon told Manami that her lunch break was over and that she needed to get back to the mayor’s. “Can you get back to the library on your own?”

Manami nodded. Thank you, she wrote clumsily, struggling slightly to juggle the box of dresses and her slate.

“It’s all right,” said Sakura with a smile. “When Naruto is done with the book, I’d like to learn your sign language.”

Manami looked excited. It’s so nice to be able to talk to others even without a voice. Please learn it!

They bid their farewells and Manami headed back to the library, halfway between anxiety and excitement. She was beginning to notice the way peoples’ eyes lingered on her as she passed and she self-consciously hid behind her hair.

“Manami?” called a voice from behind her, almost confused. She turned around to see Sasuke, leaning out from the side door of the bakery, hanging on by his hand.

Sasuke blinked. “It is you.” Suddenly, he broke into a smile as he looked her up and down. “Ino did a nice job. You look good. A lot better than when you were wearing those bulkier dresses.”

Manami felt a glowing warmth stretch up from her chest to her face and she couldn’t help but smile. She did a twirl, enjoying the way the skirt part of the dress floated out around her legs gracefully.

Sasuke smirked and called, “Don’t get too carried away. You’ll have all the boys tripping over themselves to come talking to you. Get back to Kakashi, ’kay?”

Manami nodded and quickly headed back towards the library, waving at Sasuke as she darted around a corner. It wasn’t until she was farther away that she realized that Sasuke had said “Get back to Kakashi” and not “Get back to the library.” She shrugged it off as nothing.

She slowed as she reached the library, wondering what Kakashi’s reaction would be. She was embarrassed--and surprised--to find herself hoping that he would think she looked good.

Before she lost her nerve, she pushed open the door and went inside.

Kakashi was walking towards his desk with a small stack of books when he glanced at her. He did a double take as he realized who it was.

Manami waited silently, twisting one fist in the folds of her dress, balancing the box and slate in the other hand. She found herself unable to take her eyes off him, waiting for his reaction.

His eyes smiled. “Just the color I’d imagined,” was all he said before he went back behind his desk to record the returned books.

She felt her smile fade a little, and the happy warmth in her chest dissolve into disappointment. It wasn’t the reaction she’d expected.

Mentally, she kicked herself and thought, What were you expecting? Kakashi has always been honest, not giving flattery or compliments where they’re not due. Don’t get your hopes up like that--why would things be any different here? At least he approves of the color.

As Manami wrestled with her feelings of shame, disappointment, and confusion, a certain young woman glared at her over the top of her book, wondering why the scrawny, ugly waif was worth Kakashi’s notice and she wasn’t.

“It’s time to resort to the lowest measures,” murmured Ayame, snapping her book shut.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Manami unwrapped the package from Ino later that night and encountered a beautiful white dress of the softest cotton laced with deep green-colored lace and a silky sash in the same color. She slipped it on, admiring the short puffed sleeves and the way the dress foamed like a wave on the ground around her knees when she knelt.

It was still too chilly to wear this dress but it didn’t stop her from adoring it. She closed her eyes and smiled, pressing the fabric of the skirt against her cheek, enjoying the softness.

Thank you, she mouthed. Her smile grew wider as she imagined Ino begrudgingly and blushingly accepting the compliment with a huffy, “It was nothing.”

It wasn’t nothing--it was something much bigger than Ino could imagine: it was an unconditional kindness, a kindness Manami was learning more and more with each passing day on land.

I have such a short time in this human life, but while I’m here, this life is mine. I want to know that I am good enough, but as a different girl, one who understands being loved and appreciated, not one who only made it through her life by the will to stay alive.

All I want is to be happy being who I am. I am HERE, and my life is only mine. The haven I desired...I’ll find it here.

I am certain of it.

This is actually just a quick note from me...chapter 7, "Time Waits For No One" has been fixed up and updated, and I just wanted everyone to know because updating a previously-written chapter doesn't make the story show up in the "most recent" section and I wanted my readers to know about this.
Thanks and sorry for the inconvenience!!
--Sarah-hime
And crap...I need to meet the maximum word count so I'm going to post my favorite poem here:

i carry your heart with me by e.e cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)
i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)