Written: 2/19/23
Word Count: 2,532
"Okay," I said, gripping the steering wheel between clenched fists. "Okay."
Fabvl played quietly in my speakers, the comforting lyrics so engraved on my soul that I could decipher the part of the song from even the merest of beats.
"Dragonfire," a heartfelt song dedicated to Meliodas of the Seven Deadly Sins.
"Are...are you going to move soon, or?"
My hands tightened reflexively against the wheel's dark leather. I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see bright, grayish-white hair smushed beneath the knitted rim of a cap, the look harkening Kakashi to a younger man interning at a dockyard or something.
The illusion spread. Very grizzled, very dignified, performing very difficult labor. With his youthful face, one could almost see an upright moral character painted within the slim space between his hat and mask.
I shook my head, returning to facing forward at the downward-sloping track of the driveway. With my silver Kia facing the street exit, it should have been easy as all pie to take the plunge and start driving.
"It's not that easy," I said, a faint tremble weaving between my fingers. "I can't believe I'm going to drive like this."
The entire back end of the car had been hacked at by Rengoku's fiery blade. For those who believed swords couldn't stand up to modern technology, I'd love to invite them to an exhibit starring my poor baby. Not only were the windows in the back and rear completely blown out, but the trunk had been cut halfway off the frame. Now it hung, bobbing up and down with every minor movement or stray flick of wind.
All morning, during the dawn that held more shadows than light and all the way to the awakening sky, I had been on my hands and knees, picking up debris, alternating between standing and sweeping when my back needed a break. Kakashi tried to help, but I had warded him away, back into the safety of my apartment.
It was a good thing I had because as soon as it was clear no more harm would befall the area, my neighbors came out in droves to see what the heck had happened. Luckily, their curtains had been closed up tight, so I could feign being the first person to the scene and not an unwilling participant to the whole affair. Turns out, my car wasn't the only baby smashed during the Hashira's rage.
Technically, the Kia was still driveable. It had four tires, an engine, everything. It started when I put the key in and turned it. There was only a minute scent of burning metal, but I assumed that was actually a remnant from Rengoku himself rather than the car.
Hopefully.
"Well, it needs to be fixed, doesn't it?" Kakashi shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. I still hadn't gotten used to the picture of Kakashi of the Sharingan wearing a seatbelt and a baggy sweatshirt in my car's passenger seat.
I snorted. "There's no way this baby'll be fixed. I'm just hoping to trade it in for something just as reasonably cheap."
I didn't end up calling a tow truck because it was still driveable. I had signed myself up for the humiliation of crawling through mid-morning Mayhop traffic with a car that looked as if it had been involved in an explosion. Cue judgmental stares when they saw a young blonde woman in the driver's seat.
"Alright. Okay," I said as I slowly shifted the car and let it glide down the short drive.
At the first sound of the trunk flying up and nearly off the vehicle, I swear, my heart almost had a heart attack. Why couldn't dealing with the car be as easy as dealing with my door that had been blown off its hinges and separated into blocks of wood? That had become a non-issue almost right away.
One call to the landlord about the attack last night, and the man was already sending someone to fix it.
You just can't beat good people. Seriously.
"Ahhhh, I don't like this!" I whined, my voice caterwauling through highs and lows—all my different voices on display to show off how crazy I was.
Kakashi reached over, putting one of those gloved hands against one of mine, trembling at 10 and 2 on the wheel. "It's okay. Just take it slow."
My eyes caught on that calming hand, but my heart wouldn't cease its attack. I did feign smoother breathing, though, just to make the man feel as if he was actually helping me.
Truthfully, Kakashi's presence in this burned-out car was more than a little stifling. Images of last night—before the attack—routinely filtered through my mind.
I'd been in an intimate position with this shinobi twice within the span of a couple of hours. When I'd gone to bed last night, I had in no way thought the next morning would bring with it the awkwardness of the After.
Hopefully, Kakashi didn't think much of it. That way, it would be easier to ignore. Despite the burning tingling in my cheeks, I knew it was best if nightmare-Kakashi had forgotten the position he'd been in when he'd woken up.
And hopefully shinobi-Kakashi could easily dismiss the position we'd been in on the roof of my apartment building, hiding from Rengoku.
How did people normally sit so calmly next to someone they'd been that close to? There wasn't anything remotely romantic in either of those scenarios, yet I could hardly keep still with that man sitting right beside me.
I mean, seriously. After going all the way, how did people ever look anyone in the eye ever again? Am I just a prude, or am I too innocent for all this? How can I read intense and kinky BL books, yet when I have these two minor experiences, I turn into a trembling little grandma, scandalized beyond her years?
Just stop thinking about it. Just stop. Think about something else.
Forcefully, I blared out thoughts over top of the ones I was trying to hide. Then, I repeated them out loud.
Looks like most cars are avoiding us.
"It looks like most cars are avoiding us," I said, my voice echoing maybe a little too loud in the cozy space. "That's good. I'm glad for that."
"Yeah," Kakashi hummed, and I could just see him look at me from the corner of his eye like I was a loon. "This thing is uncomfortable to travel in. I can't believe you do this most days."
An involuntary snort nearly tore my nose from my cranium. "Cars are the smoothest ride around, buddy. This is an unusual situation. Not only do we have half of the back of the car fighting against the wind and squealing like crazy from all the burn damage, but this patch of road is filled-in with potholes. Not a good combo."
We bounced and shuddered slowly along. I tried not to take offense at the way Kakashi sat, both arms elongated to hold onto the dashboard and the seat, his back wedged up against the door. His feet, too, were stuck against his foot area, wedged on the underside of the console as if we were sitting on a little schooner during a freaking hurricane.
Offended though I was, my sides were shaking from repressed laughter.
So concentrated on driving, I didn't notice the song until it was too late to casually change it. Luckily, it was turned down from my usual, since Kakashi was in the car.
Not everyone wants permanent hearing damage...or so I am told.
Trying my best to keep a straight face, I dared my eyes to glance at the cupholder, where Google Maps showed me a blue line to follow to get to the cheapest used-car dealership in town.
"I've lost everything
But I always bounce back.
Thank god for Minato
Always kept me on track."
As soon as Minato's name was spoken, it was too late to stop it. Quiet though the volume was, that unmistakable name in this unparalleled situation screwed me.
Kakashi leaned forward, staring at the radio with its green, digital numbers telling us the time. "Was that Minato-sensei's name I just heard?"
I laughed awkwardly as the song continued, right as rain, the smooth, fearless lyrics being clipped out at a fast pace.
"Loyalty is more important than your virtues.
Some are only in it for the mission
So it hurts to
Open up about my past."
"What is this song?" Kakashi's one-eyed attention was fixed on those lime-green numbers. His hair had been squished over his Sharingan eye, making him look similar to how he had as a child, before he'd acquired that left one.
"Um, it's a—fan song," I said, letting the quiet beats mix with the voice overlay wash over me as the chorus covered up the final lines of the first verse.
"What's it about?" Kakashi asked, voice serious.
"All my life
I've known pain.
Feel it coursing through my veins
So I'll fight through the rain
I won't
Waste this gift I claimed."
I blink, hard. "It's—"
"I know what's right
I'll be okay.
No I won't waste
Another day
Through every fight
What I became
Struck down by lightning
I'm to blame"
"It's about—you."
As Fabvl's voice began taking on the next verse, Kakashi relaxed somewhat. "Huh."
Casually, I turned the volume knob enough for him to make out the faster words of the new verse. We sat, listening to the song about Kakashi Hatake, written by a fan.
Eventually, the end came, just a guitar ringing out that chorus riff again and again, fading into background noise and moving right onto the next song.
I waited, my breath stuck somewhere in my chest, for Kakashi to speak.
"It's strangely uplifting," he finally remarked, and I sighed, warmth filling up my lungs and an involuntary smile inching across my face.
"Yeah," I said, the word stretched out like a sigh. "He only writes songs about morally gray characters, like villains, or heroes who have been through the wringer. He's written two about you. That was the older one."
"How can someone write a song about someone else?" Kakashi asked. I dared a look at his face, only to find him already looking at me.
Quickly, I turned back to the road, my hands that were still clutching tightly to 10 and 2 turning nearly white.
"Well," I paused, considering. How exactly could I explain this? "He writes about characters that have left an impact on him. Ones that...he feels a connection to."
"A connection?" Kakashi was unconvinced. "He doesn't even know me."
"But that's the thing," I said, my voice merely a weak burble, far too pitiful to take seriously. Those dark eyes watched me nonetheless, despite how ridiculously weak I sounded. "He does feel like he knows you."
"Huh," Kakashi repeated, receding into his own mind.
The rest of the drive was quiet, interrupted only by my occasional grumble at the looks from other drivers and passengers on the road.
It really isn't my fault, okay? I'm not some bimbo who blows her car up every other weekend.
The shaking of my hands on the steering wheel grew worse, and I knew my patience was shot. Usually, it took a lot of effort to go out and perform irregular errands like getting an oil change or something of that nature. I didn't know anything about cars, so the vast distance between me and the people who worked with cars usually made me scared I'd embarrass myself.
I've had one too many experiences of sitting in a car shop for hours and hours, being coddled like a three-year-old in need of an ice cream sandwich and a nap.
It was humiliating.
For me to ensure my mind was clear enough to tackle these awkward social situations, I had to be feeling good. I had to have a level head, a clear mind.
Those things were already far, far gone, after the night I'd had. And now, it had just rolled right into the next day. All the anxiety and awkwardness, the concern over how to get Kakashi home, the feelings of not being good enough, smart enough, to help him out.
What am I even doing here?
I pulled slowly onto a drive with new, shiny blacktop. The kind that made your tires squeal if you turned your car even slightly.
As it did now.
I pulled my monstrosity of a vehicle into the open wing of parking spots, killed the ignition, and placed my hands in my lap.
This was going to be bad. I could feel it in my bones. I would go out there and make an utter fool of myself. Stuttering, cluelessness, temporary hearing loss where I couldn't comprehend anything that was being spoken to me because of the ringing in my ears...
"Are we just supposed to wait here?" Kakashi asked. The shinobi was already casing the place out. With his new attire, the look made him less like a dockhand and more like a well-versed asset to a criminal organization.
"N-No," I said, my voice pitching too loud in the slim space. Quieter, I tried to elongate my words to reduce the stuttering, "No. I'll go inside in a moment. You—You should stay out here. You can walk around. With your hair covered and your headband at home, it should be fine. Here's some money."
Kakashi stilled my hand, trembling where it dug into my stretched-out purse. "I should go in with you."
I shook my head. "I don't need help—" inwardly, my mind started laughing at me, like in that movie Inside Out, where all the girl's emotions were people standing in a control room. They lined up at the screen, crying their eyes out, some of them falling to the ground, clutching at their sides. "Besides, most of getting a new car is all about paperwork. It'll be super boring. If I needed help, I would have called my dad to come with me," the emotions' laughter peaked riotously, enough that I could feel the utter shame from lying to a person, face-to-face, burning against my cheeks. I finished with, "You haven't had much chance to explore this world during the daytime. Go ahead, Kakashi. I'll be fine."
With that, I shakily pushed open my car door. I took deep breaths as inconspicuously as I could, but I was far beyond that now. I knew it, my mind knew it. All those damn emotions in my imaginary control room knew it.
I just didn't want Kakashi to know it.
The owner of the dealership came outside to greet me. He looked like the epitome of a "fat cat landlord." Buttoned-shirt reminiscent of a gas station attendant's. A stance that leaned backwards, simultaneously pushing his rotund belly further out and also ensuring he had to squint down on literally anything beneath him.
The dealership shack's ancient screen door flew shut behind him, springing open again and bouncing slowly closed, leaving a gap just big enough to let all the flies in.
I summoned up a smile. "Hello."