The Mission

A/N: This couple won’t stop haunting me. -sigh- Whether it be fanfiction, fanart, whatever, this couple has officially claimed all aspects of my life. Oh, why must this happen to me now?

Hm, anyway. You probably don’t want to continue hearing me rave over this fantastic couple, sooooooo I’ll just talk more about this story as a whole. I’m busy with schoolwork as of right now, so the updates may be a bit slow and a bit sporadic. The good thing is, I pretty much have the whole story planned out. It's a short and sweet one, so maybe...maybe I can finish this story before this millennium ends? Haha.

Okay, so without any further ado, enjoy!

Chapter 2 - The Mission

Sakura wasn’t sure if the best time to go over a new mission was when she was disgustingly intoxicated, but since she was so disgustingly intoxicated, Sakura couldn’t care less. She had already lost the better of her judgment...

...and that would later help explain many things.

Sakura had finally shooed away her friend just minutes ago. She hated having Ino sleep over, especially when said friend was helplessly drunk. The last time that happened, Ino had puked into her fish tank thinking that it was the toilet. And the poor fish really didn’t deserve to have that happen to them. Sakura had rather liked her fish too.

Stumbling into her bedroom, Sakura kicked off her shoes and slipped comfortably into her cushioned chair. Bed would be the next destination, but for right now, the desk was perfect. Sakura knew that if she were to even come within one inch of her bed, she would be knocked out cold. That’s what the drink did to you.

But the desk had always had some sort of magic over her. No matter how tired or drunk Sakura was, the desk always made her focus, made her awake. And that was precisely what Sakura needed right now. Attentiveness. She swung out the mission scroll from her back pouch and unravelled it out in front of her, flattening it out on her mahogany desk. She leaned in. The words were blurry, and squinting only helped somewhat.

“Hm...let’s see. Jounin...annual...medical check-up? Isn’t Tsunade supposed to be in charge of that? She’s dumping this on me too?” Sakura mumbled to herself, her fingers rubbing furiously against her temples. The headache was starting to become unbearable.

“What’s this?”

A line of small print underlined the larger portion of the previous text. Was it intentionally written to be so inconspicuous, or had the person just ran out of room?

Sakura cursed. Why did the handwriting have to be so damn small?

Pulling frantically at her desk drawers, Sakura finally managed to whip out a magnifying glass. “Okay...let’s see. Hm…oh, it says something about Kakashi-sensei here.” Sakura had to pause to suppress an impending giggle. “What’s wrong with him this time? A...a special case?” Sakura paused a second time. “Oh...”

Sakura’s lips twitched, she fell back, and then promptly erupted with a howl of laughter, yet she had no idea why she was laughing so hard or why her face had completely reddened over into an embarrassingly deep shade of pink. All she knew was, a special case meant a complete physical check-up. Complete meaning complete. No barriers, no clothes, and, especially, no masks…

Sakura wiped the tears at the corners of her eyes and lowered back down to the scroll in front of her.

But should she accept this mission? Although Tsunade was harsh, Sakura knew that her shishou would never pressure her to accept a mission that she didn’t want. Last time, when Sakura was assigned the special mission to accompany Gai on a six month tour to Tani, Suna, Ishiga, and Ame, Tsunade was generous enough to relieve her of the mission. This time wouldn’t be an exception, would it?

Sakura looked back down at the scroll in front of her. Scanning the text, Sakura found the cancellation info. “Cancellations only valid within eight hours of accepting the mission scroll?” Sakura mentally counted off her fingers. She met Tsunade and accepted the mission scroll at six in the evening, met with Ino at the bar at seven, and drank with her for approximately another four, five hours. Walking home had taken her another hour and kicking out Ino was another hour. That would make right now around...one in the morning? So she still had time!

Sakura looked up and glanced contemplatively at her clock. The seconds were ticking by.

And then—

No explanation would have been sufficient enough to explain why only two seconds later, Sakura would let out another one of her cackling giggles and promptly launch herself onto her nearby bed. But Sakura thought her choice was sensible in every which way. The opportunity was just too hard to give up! Seeing Kakashi without his mask on? How could she possibly resist?

But she forgot. Oh, the twelve bottles of sake must have done something to her brain. After all, the mask certainly wouldn’t be the only thing coming off...

.

.

.

.

.

Kakashi sneezed and shivered. He glanced around nervously. He couldn't really be getting sick now, could he? Was it true? Was he going around unknowingly carrying some sort of contagious disease? Kakashi gave tentative cough. Did he throat hurt? No. He breathed in through his nose. Was his nose stuffed? No. So what was wrong with him?

He glanced at the clock hanging on his wall. Eleven. Was Sakura on her hospital shift at this hour? Oh but, heck, what were the chances?

Just as Kakashi was about to give a sigh of defeat, he paused. 

Still and all, there was only one way to find out.

Walking up to his bed, he picked up and tugged on his flak jacket. Shaking just slightly (though he would never admit it), Kakashi stepped up to his window and opened it. A chilling breeze welcomed him. He lept out, his sight and path set directly for the Konoha hospital. Even then, jumping onto his roof, Kakashi failed to recognize just how uncharacteristic his behavior was.

After all, when was the last time Hatake Kakashi had ever willingly paid a visit to the hospital? 

But then again, the only thing left spinning on his mind was this troubling ‘Kakashi Effect.’ Nothing else seemed to really matter.