Chapter Text
By the time Kakashi made it back home, he was in a surprisingly good mood. He felt properly armed with knowledge and had a new, more accurate understanding of his wife and her intentions. He felt a bit less on edge about her now that he knew she almost certainly wasn’t who the Hokage had actually wanted him to marry. It almost felt a bit like they were pulling one over on the old bastard.
Sure, it wasn’t ideal that she was still likely working towards his death, but if she wanted to inherit his title, she would need to be bearing his child first, which also explained her desire for a quick consummation. Because of this, she couldn’t be working towards his immediate death, at the very least. It was something of a relief to know she probably wasn’t going to attempt to poison him, and also probably never had. He still staunchly refused to feel bad about the incident with breakfast on her first morning, however. She’d been behaving very suspiciously, after all. How could he be blamed for assuming the worst?
These thoughts carried him as he made his way inside the house, heading towards the kitchen for something to drink. After such a productive morning, he found himself looking forward to settling in with his book to keep his good mood going in the peace and quiet of his home.
That plan fell to pieces almost immediately— torn to shreds the minute he passed through the kitchen threshold and laid eyes on Naruto’s prone form, crumpled in a little heap on the floor by the stove, her head resting in a small puddle of blood.
For one horrifying moment he was certain she was dead and a shocking and baffling agony welled up within him. It sent him sprinting towards her, and he landed hard on his knees by her side, his trembling hands hovering over her body, certain he would touch her and find her already cold. He quickly came to his senses as he forced himself to make contact with her prone form. At least enough to notice the steady rise and fall of her chest.
She began to rouse at his touch, making those same groggy motions and sounds that she had earlier that morning, when his rough work unbinding her had stirred her from her sleep. As she came back to consciousness, her forehead wrinkled in pain and her eyes squinted against the light, and she visibly struggled to find her words. “ Master ‘Kashi?”
The whispered address, paired with the unexpected shortening of his name made something in his chest go tight, but he ignored it in favor of sliding a hand underneath her back, lifting her to sit with an anxious hum. “What happened?” he demanded insistently. He couldn’t sense anyone nearby, so she most likely hadn’t been attacked. If she was, the perpetrator was certainly long gone. This knowledge didn’t prevent him from taking a paranoid moment to confirm that they were indeed alone, just in case.
Naruto brought a shaky hand to touch where the side of her head was sticky with blood, grimacing and leaning heavy on his hands for support. “I… I’m sorry, I think I fainted.”
That was almost worse than an intruder. At least he could kill an intruder. “You’re sick? When did that happen?” He questioned, his voice harsher than he meant it. He smothered the impulse to interrogate the unease that filled him at the thought of her being ill. He was worried about her dying on him, leaving him looking guilty once more. That was all.
Naruto shook her head in denial, a strange aura of shame overtaking her as she replied, “No, no. I just—” And suddenly she looked as though she might cry, and Kakashi had to stop himself from reeling away from her in horror at the sight of her glassy eyes, knowing she might fall over if he removed his support. “I’m sorry ,” she sobbed. “I really really tried, but I haven’t been able to find enough food, so I haven’t been eating as much as I need to, and so I’ve been dizzy, and I think I fainted and hit my head because of that, but I promise I’ll work hard and do better. I promise .” The words fell from her mouth in a frantic, desperate torrent.
Kakashi had no idea what to make of the explanation. “Why… Why haven’t you been eating ?!” he snapped in furious confusion. He’d heard of people who intentionally restricted their food intake for a variety of reasons, sometimes to the point of causing health problems, but that wasn’t what Naruto had said. She’d said she couldn’t find enough food . He opened his mouth to ask her if she was too stupid to locate the pantry, when Sakura’s voice floated through his mind, entreating him to be gentle . He didn’t want to be gentle, but he found himself softening his voice anyway. “Never mind,” he sighed, gritting his teeth as he bit back his frustration. “Just… hold on.” He stood up, pulling her up with him, supporting her as she stood before walking her over to a chair at the counter and helping her to sit.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” he commanded before sweeping out of the room, retrieving a first aid kit and returning promptly to the kitchen. She looked started by his swift return and even more so by the kit in his hands. “Let me tend to your wound.”
She opened her mouth, and for a moment Kakashi was sure she was going to reject the idea of his hands on her. He suddenly remembered their night together, and he was struck by an unexpected bolt of regret. Did I scare her off? Does she not want me touching her anymore? It had been the goal, of course, so he wasn’t upset by the idea at all. Not in the slightest bit.
It didn’t end up mattering though, because Naruto didn’t reject him at all, instead simply nodding her head and pulling her hair out of the way. Kakashi pointedly didn’t find this to be a relief any more than he’d been upset by the idea of being forbidden from touching her.
They sat in relative silence as he tended to her efficiently, refusing to allow himself to run his fingers through her hair or to give into any absurd impulses to whisper comforting words as he worked. Once he finished, he pulled back with a nod. “I’m sure you want to wash up, but you’ll need to eat first. I can’t have you drowning in the tub, and I’m not going to babysit you while you bathe.” He regretted saying it immediately, as the two of them both went bright red at the conjured visual of him watching her in the bath. He spared a moment to be grateful that his mask hid his flush from her. Not that she was even looking at his face.
No, instead she was staring at the floor, grimacing as she forced out a reply. “I’d rather wait to eat until tonight, if that’s alright.”
Kakashi hadn’t been expecting push back, and the defiance was as frustrating as it was confusing. Why can’t anything just be easy with her? But Sakura had said to be gentle, so he took a deep breath before unclenching his jaw and responding, “Why don’t you want to eat now?”
His question must have still come out harsh, if Naruto’s responding flinch was anything to go by. Thankfully, she didn’t make him ask again. “I don’t… exactly have enough food for lunch and dinner, and it’s hard to go to bed with an empty stomach.”
The reply did nothing to alleviate Kakashi’s growing confusion. “What are you talking about? The pantry and cellar are full of food.”
Naruto’s eyes were still glued to her feet, and she dragged her shoulders up to her ears, as though she wished to be even smaller than she already was. “Yeah, but I don’t have enough food. Like, of my own to eat.”
Kakashi’s brow was furrowed and his mouth hung open behind his mask as he tried to puzzle out what she could possibly mean. “Do you… Are you saying you have your own stock of food separate from my food?”
Naruto finally looked up at him, though only from the corner of her eye as she nodded, appearing almost as confused as he felt. “…Yes?” It was more a question than a statement, and then Kakashi forgot everything Sakura had said about being gentle as he was struck by just how rude it was of her to reject all of his food outright like that. Like he’d somehow contaminated it just by owning it. Like he couldn’t be trusted to provide for her.
His anger must have shown on his face, because her eyes snapped back down her feet with a squeak. He didn’t pay her fear any mind as he set to stomping through the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and various cookware as he began to vent his anger with words, more spoken to the air around them than to her directly. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that Miss Yamanaka is too good for food a soldier might have touched, so she has to starve herself to the point of fainting. Good to know what my wife thinks of me.” He wasn’t even looking at her as he picked up a knife and began to furiously cut up the vegetables he’d set out, still speaking as he did so.
“Good to know that my spoiled brat of a wife doesn’t appreciate how lucky she is to have access to a full pantry of food. Good to know she’s so careless with her health that she’s willing to put herself at risk to avoid eating something that’s beneath her.” He turned to the stove and tossed the veggies into the pan along with some oil, feeling a little like he was losing his mind as a small but undeniable worry that she wouldn’t like his cooking snuck up on him. He sternly reminded himself that he didn’t care , still rambling like a madman, but not sure how to stop it at that point.
“Well, not today. Today you are going to eat what I cook for you, and after that, you are going you eat from my pantry like a normal fucking person .” He spun around to point his wooden spoon at her, his eyes narrowed with anger as he gesticulated. “Do you understand —“
His question trailed suddenly off into nothing when he caught sight of Naruto, trembling in her chair with tears welled up in her eyes, her breath coming hard and fast, and all Kakashi wanted to do was whatever it took to ensure she would never look like that again. But he couldn’t figure out what would erase the expression from her face, so he stood frozen, watching helplessly as she took a shuddering breath in, before she let loose an outraged cry, scrunching her eyes shut and wailing like a child, looking for all the world like she was about to stomp her feet. “B-But you’re the one who said I can’t eat your food! So w-w-why are you m-m-mad at m-me?” Her words shook and stuttered as she broke down into tears, leaving him standing in front of her, his anger entirely replaced by profound horror and confusion.
“What… What are you talking about?!” He demanded, his voice coming out far harsher than he’d intended, drawing a flinching sob from the girl in front of him. It felt like a part of him died as he watched her curl in on herself, hiccuping pathetically as she tried and failed to get her breathing back under control. He felt more like a monster than he ever had.
“Y-you t-t-told Natsu-umi to t-t-tell me that I w-wasn’t al-l-lowed to touch your f-food!” she sobbed miserably, still glaring at him through wet eyes.
And that made absolutely no sense at all. “What, just because I don’t want you cooking for me, you starve yourself?” he demanded, a bit of his anger returning as she tried to insist that this was somehow his fault.
For a moment, Naruto’s face scrunched up in unrestrained anger, an expression he had yet to see on her even once, no matter how unfair he’d been. She brought her hands up to pull on her hair and opened her mouth as though she were going to shout at him, only to freeze at the last moment, going unnaturally still as she took one long breath in. On the exhale, he watched her slowly and painfully pack herself away, her hands coming to rest in her lap, her back straightening, her eyes drying and the fire of anger extinguishing. It was strange and unsettling to watch as she rapidly settled into a picture of detached neutrality. He was forced to remember Sakura’s words. An unkind upbringing .
He didn’t want to remember that. He’d much prefer if he could continue to think of her as he had before, but the girl’s next statement was painfully telling, coming calm and collected and resigned . “If I can’t touch your food,” she gestured to the kitchen as she spoke in a flatly dejected voice, and he realized with a jolt of icy clarity that she took his food to mean all the food in the house. “And I can’t have my own food, what am I supposed to do? If you want me to die, just tell me to kill myself already.” A tiny bit of her prior fire seeped into her voice as she bit out her dagger-esque conclusion, meeting his eyes with a steely, determined gaze.
If I say die, you die . The command rose in his memory in tandem with the bile that rose in his throat. He swallowed both down with practiced ease. “Naruto, we are married . Even if I had meant that you couldn’t eat anything that was legally mine, half of my non-familial assets are yours . That includes food.” Surely she’d known that. It was the basics of a wedding between clans. It was in their marriage contract. Surely she’d known that.
But the distinct lack of recognition on her face made it clear that she hadn’t. Her words were the final nail in the coffin of his hope. “No, that’s... No, that can’t be how that works.” She shook her head, looking at him with distrust.
Kakashi sighed and rubbed his eye with his hand. It was clear that he and Naruto needed to have a conversation. And likely not a short one. He couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do less. “Clearly there has been some… miscommunication,” he acknowledged reluctantly. “You stay there. I’m going to go move your food into the pantry. I assume it’s in your room?”
She nodded hesitantly, looking at him with all the trust of a kicked dog. He decided he hated that look on her. “Alright. It can’t stay there. It isn’t hygienic. Once I’ve got it in the pantry, I’m going to cook lunch and you’re going to eat it. While you eat, we are going to have a conversation, but before I do any of that, let me make one thing clear.” He walked up close to her, hating the way she shrank away from him, her hands shaking and her eyes glued to the floor, but he didn’t let it stop him from taking her by the shoulders.
“Look at me, Naruto,” he commanded. She obeyed almost instantaneously, her jaw clenched tight as she did so. “I will never restrict your access to food, water, housing, or any other resource you need to live. That also includes access to clean clothing, hygiene products, and blankets.” It felt imperative she understand that he was different . That he wasn’t that sort of monster. He was also gripped by a terrible certainty that unless he did something, she wouldn’t understand that and would deprive herself of necessary things without his knowledge. It felt strangely intolerable. “From now on, if you ever find yourself wishing you had something you lack, you are to tell me the next time you see me. I will decide if you can have it, and you won’t be in trouble for telling me. Understood?”
She nodded with wide eyes, looking at him with an awestruck expression that turned his stomach in the best worst sort of way. In any other circumstance, he’d have demanded a verbal acknowledgement, but he found himself unable to do so as a result of the unacceptable heat rising in his face. “Good,” he nodded back at her, struck by an urge to flee that he was more than happy to indulge. “You stay there. I’m going to go get the food from your room.” With that, he spun on his heel and marched from the kitchen, his head already spinning in the wake of what had just happened.
As he walked to her room, he frantically combed through his memories of the time since he’d Natsumi away, trying to find any memory of Naruto eating in the house. He came up miserably empty. The realization left him feeling twitchy, and the feeling only intensified when he entered her room and took in the true sparsity of her personal belongings. He found a single five pound bag of rice tucked into a dresser drawer. He justified a search through the rest of her things by telling himself that surely she couldn’t have only been subsisting on rice. Surely there was more. There had to be.
He came up empty with regards to food and nearly empty with regards to really anything else. She had no jewelry, no trinkets, no books or letters, no writing implements or handicraft supplies. She had a small collection of cheap soaps, a few measly outfits, and a single, broken wooden comb, painted with oddly familiar flowers and birds. The comb held his attention for a moment, as he’d tried to place where he’d seen it before. Maybe I know the artist? He wasn’t sure. He left it where he’d found it after a few moments of puzzled examination, before the need to ensure Naruto ate won out over his curiosity, pushing him from the room and back towards the kitchen.
Back towards the unfortunate conversation he’d need to have. He only hoped he could maintain some semblance of composure through it. And that she wouldn’t hate his cooking.
_____
Naruto used to have many silly and unrealistic fantasies about her future husband, back when she was a child. She’d imagined him tending to her when she was sick. She’d imagined him holding her sweetly. She’d imagined him loving her. But even in the heights of her delusional dreaming, she’d never imagined him cooking for her.
But Kakashi had done just that. He’d made her a bowl of zosui— the rice and vegetable soup gentle on her stomach and full of soothing flavor and warmth. He hadn’t eaten any of it or even saved himself some for later, instead just sitting there watching while she scarfed down the entire pot. The attention had made her nervous, but thankfully not enough that it affected her appetite, though it was rare that anything affected her enough to do that.
Once she’d finished eating, he’d taken the dishes from her and cleaned everything up, shooting her a stern look when she’d shifted forward to leave her chair and help him, freezing her in her seat without even a word. Then, after everything was done, he’d taken a seat across from her at the table and began to explain the legalities of their marriage.
She was still half convinced he was lying, even now that the sun had set, turning day to night as she sat by the koi pond, wondering how it was that she’d found a man like Kakashi. Wondering why a man like Kakashi would kill his wife. It didn’t seem possible. But then again, nothing about him seemed possible. Least of all what he’d told her in the kitchen.
Apparently, their marriage contract stipulated that if he terminated their union, half of his “non-clan possessions” would be hers . He’d explained that the things he’d inherited were considered clan possessions, but anything he’d acquired by his own hand was considered a personal possession. If he sent her away, she’d have a right to take half of what he owned with her.
Even less believably, he’d said that for as long as they were wed, all of his personal possessions were legally considered hers, and at the same time none of her personal possessions were legally his, which made absolutely no sense at all. She knew for a fact that wasn’t how marriages worked. Not in the Yamanaka family. Not in the Nara family. She even knew for a fact that none of this had been stipulated in the order from the Hokage that had demanded their marriage. She’d asked him why their marriage would be set up like that, and he’d just shrugged, insisting that was ‘ just how Hatake family marriages are done .’ She’d had to bite her tongue to stop herself from calling him a liar outright.
Apparently, she might as well have, because he’d clearly seen it on her face. Then he’d shown her the signed copy of their marriage license, complete with documentation proving the truth of his words. She’d read it all with wide eyes, unable to do much more than nod when he’d gone on to explain that this all meant that even if he’d wanted to deprive her of food, which he apparently hadn’t , he legally couldn’t . All of the food he bought belonged to her as much as it belonged to him, if she believed what she’d read.
She still wasn’t sure if she did or not, but she had decided that she at least believed Kakashi when he said he hadn’t meant for her to starve. He’d bought her food and clothes in town. He’d cooked for her. Sure, he was standoffish, and he clearly didn’t like her much, but that just made the fact that he treated her so well all the more admirable. And after sex, he’d been so nice . He’d held her and petted her and made her feel warm in a way she never had before.
He was better than anything she’d ever hoped for. He was even better than she’d imagined Shika would have been. It made the fact that she was lying to him all the more miserable. He thought she was legitimate. He thought she was a powerful spirit user. He was expecting her to be able to provide him with children of a certain bloodline, and she wouldn’t be able to deliver. And whenever he inevitably found himself needing to cut her loose so he could have a proper wife, she’d be absconding with half of everything he owned. It made her feel dirty.
Maybe that was why he’d killed Rin. To get rid of her without losing his property. It was an ugly thought, but one she couldn’t quite shake off. She did her best to box it away. She had no reason to suspect him of something so awful. Especially not when he’d expressed explicit interest in her wellbeing. He cared if she ate so much that he’d cooked for her, after all. She’d already suspected there was something more to the story of his first wife, but she didn’t think it was some hidden sin of Kakashi’s. She couldn’t think that. Not if she was also going to feel bad about the idea of basically stealing half of his shit when he kicked her out.
Life may have made her a liar, she reflected, dipping her bare feet into the pond and admiring the way the water rippled beneath the lamp light. But it had yet to make a thief of her. When Kakashi sent her packing, she wouldn’t take anything with her outside of what was hers. In the meantime, she would take care of herself so that she could hopefully pass for a woman suitable to be Kakashi’s wife. She would perform her duties for as long as she had the pleasure of having them.
A tiny smile crept across her face as she thought about that. The duties of Kakashi Hatake’s wife. Yesterday that list had been all but empty. It had consisted of one single goal. Don’t embarrass him. Now that list had doubled. Sure, that didn’t mean much, when doubling it was the same thing as just adding one, but if she had to give it a mathematical framing, doubling sounded way better.
The memory of Kakashi leaving her in the kitchen to put away their marriage license after their conversation came back to her. Less than a minute had gone by before he’d slowly re-entered the kitchen, looking almost hesitant. His strangely nervous expression had been painfully charming and for a moment she’d been utterly convinced he was going to ask her for sex again. She hadn’t had any time to decide how she felt about that, before she was proven wrong.
He’d lifted a hand to the back of his head as he averted his gaze, and she could’ve sworn she’d seen just the tiniest hint of red creeping across his cheekbones, only barely visible above the hem of his mask as he’d asked her if she wouldn’t mind preparing breakfast for him the next morning. She’d just stared back at him stupidly, fully certain that she’d died when she hit her head and everything that had happened afterwards had been a dream as she’d hurtled towards the afterlife. She’d stared for so long that the hint of red had gone ever so slightly darker, and Kakashi had clenched his jaw for a moment before awkwardly promising not to throw anything on the floor this time.
Thankfully, she’d come to her senses pretty quickly at the reminder of how the last breakfast attempt had gone. It was a little sobering and nerve wracking to be reminded of how poorly things could go, but the reminder didn’t dissuade her in the slightest. She’d agreed. Of course she’d agreed. She’d also hoped that if she was dreaming, she wouldn’t wake up any time soon. At the same time, she couldn’t wait for morning.
It was a foolish, ridiculously childish fantasy, but she knew she was good at cooking, and some silly, romantic part of her couldn’t shake off the belief that if he tried her food, he wouldn’t be able to help but fall in love with her.