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Learning to Run by inuyashas_only_1

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Story notes: From the author of Firefly Tears, You Found Me, and By Your Side comes the writing showdown with fellow Tonfa writer ontuva!

inuyashas_only_1 (more commonly known as Sarah-hime) and her friend ontuva have decided to both rewrite Hans Christian Anderson's "The Little Mermaid", employing everyone's favorite ninjas as characters.
This showdown is for the friends' personal enjoyment, but readers are welcome to read both and give feedback--Sarah-hime and ontuva are always ready for a challenge.

Sarah-hime's "Learning to Run" and ontuva's "The Leaf and the Moon" currently have no steady update schedule.

MUCHOS GRACIAS TO THE AMAZING BATTYBIGSISTER (http://narutofic.org/viewuser.php?uid=9475) FOR HER AWESOME BANNER SHE MADE FOR ME :D
Chapter notes: I'm back. ^^
I missed the Tonfa crowd. Did you miss me?
Hey, as usual, feedback is highly appreciated and love & cookies go to those who do review.
Kisses,
Sarah-hime
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.
Chapter end notes: Feedback is love.
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