Alone together [Kakashi x Reader]

Chapter 1

NOTES: This story is kinda messy because despite being my 5th one of Kakashi it actually was the first one I thought about. But it felt wrong to keep it on the drafts and it has some parts I really love. I made a playlist too, you can find it by searching the image on Spotify

This book will have some things based on true stories :)

My first memory is of me running away from home when I was barely 6 years old. Or at least that's what I'd like to say because the truth is that I can't really recall my childhood very well, and honestly, I'm thankful I don't. But this, I remember vividly:

I was sick and tired of my parents, always ordering me around, telling me to do everything while my older sister was able to enjoy her time; to hang out with friends and do whatever she wanted; to mouth her opinions to some extent without being absolutely shamed and humiliated immediately after; to be able to have opinions, to begin with. That wasn't me. I, on the other hand, had to do everything as if instead of a child I was my mother's personal assistant which of course was great for whenever something bad happened as it would be me to blame. But of course, I am exaggerating. At least that's what my mother would tell me whenever I dared to speak about it. I was dramatic, crazy, stupid, immature, ignorant, ... the list went on and on and I eventually stopped taking record of my parents' descriptions of me. But you get the gist. 

One day, I just had enough. Poor old me, being 6 and already having enough... of course, I couldn't even begin to imagine how truly worse it could get. But again, I was a child. A childish child. My parents left with my sister for something about the academy, and they left me home because I hadn't done my chores. "If you can't act like an adult, you can't be treated like an adult", they said. When they left, after crying and throwing a tantrum all alone at home, I packed some sandwiches and a book and ran away. 

I didn't know where to go, or what to do, and I knew I would end up going back home. But I wanted to leave, and I wanted my parents to know I had left them. Maybe then, just maybe, they would appreciate me a little bit better. And so I spent the whole day outside, going from one place to another, stopping to eat the food I had brought and to read. But around midnight, once it had been dark for a long time I began to think about going home, after all, I really didn't want to sleep outside in a park or in the woods. But I definitely made my choice after I realized a creepy old man was following me around. 

I went back home and climbed up to the second floor where my bedroom was only to come out of my room, curious about what my parents would say, although slightly scared as well.

"You didn't do all the things I told you. Again" my mother said from the sofa as soon as she heard me coming out "I won't make any food for you anymore unless you do them, maybe then you'll value the things I do for you" she added without looking at me. Neither my mom nor dad spared me a glance. Only my sister did, and it was a short one. I frowned, my skin turning cold despite my chest burning in anger.

"Are you serious?" I asked, amazed that she wouldn't even mention the fact that I had run away and come back in the middle of the night. She groaned in annoyance at my question, bothering me even further. 

"Yes. Are you so stupid you can't even understand basic human speech" she added while rolling her eyes.

I gritted my teeth and stormed back to my bedroom, realizing that they hadn't even noticed I was gone. 

After that memory, many others similar followed, and slowly yet surely I began to control my temper. In the beginning, my mother and I would clash a lot. I would try to talk when I wasn't comfortable or when I thought something wasn't just. Ha! as if justice existed in that household. But maybe in life it did, because some years after, my mother got severely sick bringing her to a premature death. I wouldn't say I was happy when it happened, but I definitely wasn't sad, just numb. But looking back in time, it maybe would have been better if my mother continued to be alive. When she was, it was a constant fight between her and me. My sister and my father would always stay out of everything, and just back her up silently or with some comment. But what I didn't know was how much worse my father would be instead of my mom, and just how badly her death would affect my sister. No wonder, after all, she had always been the favorite one.