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I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head).
-- Mad Girl’s Love Song by Sylvia Plath
The wind bells outside the Maiya Cafe chime in the warning breeze. Black-purple clouds loom in the distance, and Gai casts his eyes over the village, the fried nerves in his back and leg twitching, predicting a heavy storm. For all that Fire is a land of cindering woods and great, smoke-dark hills, it flourishes so beautifully in the rain. The storm will probably last the night. He hopes it will stay longer, linger until the dawn, but he knows the thunder as he knows the flames, and the lightning will crash where it will, setting the forest ablaze. The people of Konoha are no strangers to the wildfires. But the land of Fire teaches her people well, and here they hold mastery over the flames like nowhere else in the world. The village will survive the fires just as Gai had - and just as he will do again.
Gai sips his tea. The rain is a few hours away. He has the time to enjoy this respite before trekking the journey home. He lives a short way from the village walls, through the southern gate and left at the red Nara shrine. The south road gives way to dirt and stone along the edge of the forest, and neither are an easy feat to traverse with his wheelchair. If Gai bumps into the Nara patrol, they’ll carry the wheelchair across the trickier terrain, but more often than not, he completes the last of his journey on his hands. Balancing the wheelchair over his head ceased being a challenge years ago, but maintaining his upper body strength is always a worthwhile pursuit. He can walk the length of the village on his hands three dozen times over. If he has shopping, then he often has to make multiple trips to and from his house. Sometimes he returns to find the Nara deer munching through his groceries. It’s no bother. Tenten has yet to convince him to use one of her bottomless storage seals. Gai smiles at the thought. The inefficiency of hiking back and forth seems to offend her. He can certainly appreciate the versatility of her spatial manipulation magic, but he likes to carry his shopping the old-fashioned way. She's never quite understood what he means but - she's young. She's so very young.
Gai doesn’t have any shopping today, but maybe he should buy some coffee on the way home - he was running low. It’s been a while since he’s had anyone around to drink it, but that might be due to change. If he rises early tomorrow, he could pick up a loaf of bread from the bakery and maybe some taiyaki if he’s in a particularly joyous mood.
It all depends on the rain, he supposes, listening to the wind bells chime.
“May I join you, Gai-sensei?”
Gai blinks, noticing Seer Hyūga on the sidewalk. The Maiya Cafe has only two small tables out the front, each with mismatched, wooden chairs. Gai had to move one to back his wheelchair in, and he gestures for the young woman to take a seat. Tea is better enjoyed with company, after all, and Seer Hyūga - or Hinata, as she insists - smiles before setting down her own cup.
Gai doesn’t know Hinata particularly well, but they are connected through his student and her cousin, Neji. As a child, she was timid and unassuming, and she often feared to speak in case her predictions rang true. And they often do. Gai can’t imagine this is simply a social visit, although it pains him to think. Like many others, he has no desire to know his fate, if such a thing exists. But Hinata is a kind and soft-spoken woman, and he’s seen what trials she has overcome. He can no sooner turn her away than any of his students, so he smiles back as she sits down.
“May I share your good fortune with you?” Hinata asks. Her eyes are the Seeing silver of her family magic, expressed more strongly in her than any others for generations. There is something so very eerie about blank eyes Seeing so much, but Gai isn't one to be unnerved by such a thing.
Gai could refuse her offer - and he appreciates that it is an offer. He's known less considerate Seers. But as the wind chimes sway and the storm rolls in, he thinks he knows what she has to say.
“Please do.”
Hinata smiles over the rim of her cup. “Your oldest friend is soon to visit. I would buy that coffee, if I were you.”
Since she doesn’t mention the bread or taiyaki, Gai assumes he’ll still be running by the bakery tomorrow morning. That’s good. It means the storm won’t flood the forest path and strand him at home for days.
“And if I don’t?”
Hinata seems to think on it. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I haven’t Seen a thread in which you don’t.” Her smile widens and she’s nothing like that child anymore, just as scared not to See as to See. “I imagine he’ll be grouchy in the morning.”
The prospect of imagining the future still seems to amaze her. Gai can’t help but share in her delight, although he imagines his own future all of the time, and in every possible way. His oldest friend is the greatest constant in those all those lives, and Gai feels an almost boyish excitement rise up within him. It’s about time Kakashi paid a visit, after all.
The wind begins to pick up and the people passing by start to notice the change in weather. If the rain arrives early, then Gai isn't concerned. He knows there's a water-barrier seal etched into the table which will activate at the first spot of rain, and if the journey home is slippery with mud, then he'll just wait for Kakashi at the Nara shrine. Hinata isn't carrying a cloak, either, so she probably isn't expecting to be caught out in the cold.
They finish their tea. The chalkboard hanging outside the cafe scrubs itself clean.
“Gai-sensei - your friend,” Hinata says, stopping him before they part ways. Now it’s her words that provide the warning rather than the delicate, singing bells. “Do you know what he is?”
Do you know what I am, Gai doesn’t say. He's lived in this world for too long to ask silly questions like that. “He is my beloved friend and rival,” he replies instead, patting her arm. “Thank you, but I’ve no need for your concern.”
She accepts this with a nod of her head. “Don't forget the coffee, sensei,” she says, and Gai smiles, as though he could.
Gai pops up his hood as he passes the southern gate. The rain is in a hurry, it seems, and Gai smiles, sharing in its excitement. He considers risking the last of his journey alone, but upon further thought, decides to duck into the Nara shrine instead. His fortune must be particularly good today, for there he bumps into the current Shadow Mage, the smart but efficiently lazy Nara Shikamaru, who raises a hand in greeting as though it's the most inconvenient thing in the world.
“Lee asked me to watch out for you,” Shikamaru explains. Lee is Gai's third and final student, and must be worrying himself on Gai's doorstep as he watches the storm roll in.
“Thank you,” Gai says. “But there was no need.”
Shikamaru shrugs. “It's fine. You know what Lee's like.”
Gai does, so he accepts the help without further argument, clutching the shopping in his lap as Shikamaru's shadows carry him home.
Lee has not a spark of magic in him, but he races the wind from Gai’s front porch to greet them, a blur as green as the Nara forest and just as happy as it soaks up the evening rain. Shikamaru’s shadows set Gai down at his door, shaking off the rain like a great deer tossing its antlers. Shikamaru stuffs their hands into their pockets, their errand complete, and over their head, the shadow repurposed as an umbrella stretches out to include Lee under its protection.
“Am I walking you home too?” Shikamaru drawls, inclining their head to Lee. The Nara woods are dark and treacherous for those without a Nara guide or a flame to light their way. There are beasts amongst these trees that even Gai has never seen.
“No need!” Lee replies, taking the shopping so that Gai can locate his key. “I will take one of Gai-sensei’s lanterns.”
“Whatever,” Shikamaru says, and though the effort of it all seems to bother them, they wait around until Gai and Lee are safely inside. Then they turn away from the porch, sinking into a shadow and from sight.
Gai hangs his cloak up by the door and switches from his muddied wheelchair to a cane. Tenten keeps badgering him to invest in a water-barrier seal for his wheelchair too, but he’s never gotten around to it. Plus, he likes to busy his hands with whatever he can, and cleaning the tires is as much a part of his routine as exercising every single day. There was a time before people utilised magic as they saw fit, and Gai likes to keep things simple wherever he can. It helps that Lee agrees with him; if anything, Lee prefers to do everything using non-magical means, whereas Gai recognises that magic has its uses from time to time. As such, Lee is one of the few guests that Gai has that knows how the kettle works, rather than boiling water with a simple touch of their hand.
“You’re welcome to stay for dinner tonight,” Gai says, watching Lee fuss around with a bag of rice. The rice clatters around like the rain outside, a thousand drum-beats pitter-pattering against the roof. Lightning flashes in through the window. He hasn’t heard any thunder yet, but it will be here soon, just as Gai’s heart and his pain foretell. “But I may have a guest.”
Lee, who has apparently taken it upon himself to start preparations for dinner, blinks owlishly in surprise. “A guest? Sensei, if I’m intruding -”
“Nonsense. You’re always welcome. Kakashi is my oldest friend and greatest rival; you should meet him.”
“Your rival?” Lee parrots, eyes sparkling. “The same rival I’ve heard so much about? If he’s coming to visit, then I will do my best to make a most wondrous meal for him! Is there anything he doesn't like? Do I need to run to the store -?”
Gai laughs, herding Lee back into the kitchen before he can sprint back to Konoha. “Anything will be fine, Lee. Kakashi certainly won’t turn his nose up at free food.”
Lee nods and returns to bouncing around the kitchen, pots and pans clattering in his haste. Gai pours them both a cup of tea and then pours a coffee for Kakashi, too, hearing the thunder over Lee humming a tune. There’s another lightning flash soon after, gleaming off the rice pot, Gai’s belt, and the silver chain around his neck. He’ll have to close the storm-shutters tonight - unless Kakashi cannot stay.
Gai smiles, hearing a break in the rain. He leaves Lee at the stove and limps to the back of the house, his cane clacking over the floorboards. He’s not as good at sneaking as he used to be, but he’ll no doubt reacquire those skills after setting the remains of his Eighth Gate ablaze. For now, he slides open the shoji and steps out onto the back porch, and though the rain is cold as it washes over him, Gai’s body maintains its eternal warmth.
“Won’t you come inside?” Gai calls out to the dark. “Or are you make-believe after all?”
There’s no response at first, but that’s to be expected. Gai leans more heavily onto his cane, the nerves in his leg twitching. He’s not so injured that he cannot stand, at least for a short while, although the next gust of wind almost blows him from his feet. The house trembles, the shoji clattering. At once, the rain altogether stops, and Gai reaches out from under the porch roof to brush the sparks from Kakashi’s hair.
“As if you have the imagination,” Kakashi replies, and as he ducks under the roof, the rain begins again.
Gai smiles, sweeping his thumb across Kakashi’s cheek. He curls his fingers under Kakashi’s chin, reacquainting himself with the feeling of the black mask under his hand. “Is that a challenge, my friend?”
Kakashi rolls his eyes towards the ceiling. The left, a deep, poppy red, is the only flash of colour upon him to be seen. Gai knows there is another, a chain of gold around his neck. It’s a golden chain for a golden feather, and it’s the only warmth Kakashi wears.
“Maa, if you want it to be,” Kakashi says. “I suppose it’s been a while.”
It’s been years; not that Gai was counting. Their time apart doesn’t matter when Kakashi always comes back. “You look well,” Gai says, hoping to elicit a glower as he flicks the silver jewel dangling from Kakashi’s ear. “The earrings are new.”
“Well, one of us has to change,” Kakashi drawls, eyebrows rising. He guides Gai’s hand away. “You look the same as ever.”
They both know this not to be true. Of the two of them, it’s Kakashi who dwells somewhere beyond this place, beyond time and age, untouched by the slow deterioration of life. Gai has lived far longer than most - and he will again, and he will always - but he knows the feel of young and old atop his bones. He has seen death; tasted the ash upon his tongue. He is not immortal - there is no such thing. Everything dies, no matter how many times. Even Kakashi, who lives and lives and could live forever, will die.
For all that Gai changes from day to day, and life to life, using the same name and a different name, the same man or sometimes not a man, he knows of two certainties:
One, Kakashi will find him. They will be many things and everything, but never strangers. They will be friends, rivals, allies, and lovers. They will grow old together; Gai will be young and reckless, and Kakashi will be older and reckless still. Gai will die, Kakashi will live. They’ll find each other again, never parted for long.
Two, Kakashi can only die once - and Gai will kill him.
They both know this to be true.
“Some things never change,” Gai says, kissing the back of Kakashi’s hand. Gai’s internal fire, for one. Kakashi’s mask, for another. “Can you stay for dinner?”
“I suppose it’s not too out of my way. You might be worth the trouble.”
Gai tucks a wayward strand of hair behind Kakashi’s ear. “If you weren't looking for trouble, maybe you should have loved a thunderbird instead.”
“Maybe,” Kakashi agrees. He squeezes Gai’s hip, the one that always hurts. Gai tries not to wince, but judging by the flicker in Kakashi’s gaze, the snap of lightning in his eyes, the grimace is obvious enough. Kakashi gentles his touch, not looking at Gai’s ruined leg but not not looking at it, either. “I was hoping…”
Gai cuts him off. They’ve shed enough tears over this injury already, so there’s no need for more. “It won’t heal, not yet. I told you before.”
Kakashi sighs. “I know. I suppose it was a fool’s hope.”
“But a lovely fool,” Gai says, and he pulls down Kakashi’s mask and kisses the sadness from his smile, kissing the sigh from his mouth. Gai’s back burns, his nerves twisting into knots, but having Kakashi here again is worth the trouble to stand. Kakashi’s lips are cold but his touch is lightning-hot, steady on Gai’s hip and wild in his hair. They gasp and breathe quietly, foreheads and hearts knocking against the other’s. Gai smiles and strokes his hand up Kakashi’s spine, ruffling up the feathers that aren’t really there.
“Gai-sensei, your - oh!”
They both turn, noses bumping, to where Lee has all but combusted in the hallway, his face bright red in embarrassment as he holds out a cup of tea. He hops from foot to foot, gaze darting from the floor, to Gai, to Kakashi, and then back to the floor again, his blush rising up to his ears.
“I’ll - um - um -”
He spins around and flees into the kitchen, carrying Gai’s half-cold cup of tea with him. Gai has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing, but Kakashi doesn’t appear to share in the mirth. He pulls away from Gai, mask back on, expression closing off. The spot where Lee stood is vacant now, just a softly-lit floorboard into the house, but Kakashi stares at it with a look as cold as the rain still lashing in.
“I -” he begins, and for a moment he seems unsure. Gai squeezes his hip and the uncertainty passes, something dark and thunderous replacing it instead. Kakashi steps back, almost entirely off the porch. The rain parts around him and a wind whips up, ready to carry him away. “Have I been away too long, this time?”
Gai doesn’t look away, afraid that Kakashi will disappear. “Never,” he says, meaning it in any and every way, but it isn’t until he sees the flash of Kakashi’s relief that he understands. “You need not worry about such a thing. Lee is my student and I think of him as my son, but he is not mine. There’s no-one else.”
“No?” Kakashi says, sounding doubtful, teetering on the edge of the porch but yet to fly away. “He looks…”
Gai reaches out and ever-so-carefully coaxes Kakashi into the house. “Remarkably like me, yes.” He shuts the shoji behind them but leaves the storm-shutters for now; he wants Kakashi to stay, oh of course he does, but he doesn't want Kakashi to feel trapped. “He’s a diligent student. He’s like me in many ways.”
Kakashi hums, more easily convinced this time. He leans in close, not to kiss Gai again, but simply to rest his head against Gai’s shoulder. His silvery hair tickles Gai’s chin, and he’s close enough to whisper, “But he’s not like you.”
“No,” Gai agrees, softer this time. Lee isn’t one to eavesdrop, but some things are better left unknown. “I am still unique, in that regard.”
Kakashi closes his eyes and they stand there for a moment, embracing, and listening to the rain beat down outside.
Dinner is wonderful. Lee has mastered all of Gai’s best recipes (his father’s recipes, from all those years ago) and lays out an arrange of dishes onto the table, rambling on about training, the team, and his recent assignment in the Land of Wind. Enjoying a delicious meal with two of his beloved people is a privilege, and Gai feels content. Concerning Kakashi, Lee is curious but polite, and Kakashi indulges him as much as he indulges anyone, which is little. Gai recounts an abridged version of how he and Kakashi met, missing nearly all of the details, and Lee listens with rapt attention while Kakashi smiles and fails to help at all.
“So, you’re a Lightning Mage?” Lee asks, full of awe. He’ll be sitting in Kakashi’s lap if he leans any closer. The idea that Kakashi can hurl lightning bolts and tear open storms in the sky doesn’t seem to deter Lee. If anything, he looks thrilled. “And you’re Gai-sensei’s rival?”
“Maa, something like that,” Kakashi replies, crow’s feet wrinkling around his eyes. He glances to Gai, unfazed by Lee’s mutters of awe. “I might be getting a promotion soon, actually, but it depends.”
“A promotion?” Lee asks, as Gai all but inhales his chopsticks. “Ah! Sensei!”
Kakashi probably smiles, but Gai’s eyes are watering too much to tell. “Mhm,” Kakashi says, continuing despite Gai’s hacking and Lee’s flustered concern. “There’s a particular High Mage who thinks it’s about time I settled down, or something. Can’t imagine why.”
Gai excuses himself to grab a glass of water. Although he feels Kakashi’s gaze on his back, he refuses to turn around and reveal his tears. The coughing-fit is a reasonable enough excuse. He scrubs his face and knocks back the drink, and then when Lee ushers him away from the dish-washing and out of the kitchen, Gai drags Kakashi along to grill him about this promotion.
Kakashi allows himself to be pulled along, and it must seem ridiculous, to Lee, to witness his magic-less, middle-aged sensei limp into the front room with an all-powerful storm-bearer shuffling along behind.
“I didn’t think you’d be… upset,” Kakashi begins, slow enough to gauge Gai’s response.
Gai sets his cane out of the way, wishing such a short walk didn’t hurt so much. And to think he was once as renowned as Kakashi! Now he’s slow and bound to the ground by pain. But he has fight in him yet, and he squeezes Kakashi’s knee in solidarity. “Forgive me if this is ignorance, rival, but you’ve never wished to settle down. Not even when you brought Yamato to my doorstep. Whoever is asking this of you, I’ll - I’ll speak with them. I don’t care how far I have to travel. High Mage or not -”
“Gai, Gai,” Kakashi interrupts, laying a hand atop Gai’s. He shakes his head and huffs as though trying not to laugh. Gai certainly doesn’t think this is a laughing matter, but Kakashi’s assurance is swift: “It’s fine. Please don’t challenge a High Mage on my behalf. I’ll have to deal with the fall-out. Ugh. No-one’s making me do anything I don’t want to do.”
The reassurance is appreciated, but sometimes the things Kakashi thinks he wants to do are merely the things that everybody else wants from him. “But who -”
“Your High Mage, Gai. The crazy old lady.”
Gai’s mouth falls open - and then clicks shut. “High Mage Senju wants you to succeed her?”
Kakashi rolls his eyes - both of them, poppy-red spinning. “Yes, let’s tell the whole village.”
The tips of his ears burning, Gai lowers his voice. Lee’s a good kid, but he’s terrible at keeping secrets. It’s better if he doesn’t hear: it’s better if the Nara forest doesn’t hear. “Did you accept?”
Seriously? says the quirk of Kakashi’s eyebrows. “Of course not. Not yet, anyway. I needed to ask if - well, if - you know.”
Gai does not, in fact, know.
“Oh for -” Kakashi begins, cutting himself off. He presses his lips together, shooting Gai a look of frustration. But when Gai’s puzzlement only builds, he sighs loudly, lightning flickering in-between his hair. “Would you stay? If I became the High Mage of Fire, would you… am I… you must know.”
“Kakashi -”
“Don’t make me say it,” Kakashi says, his eyes pleading. Thunder rumbles outside. “It’s your rule.”
Oh, Gai thinks, and the golden flame that sustains him swells with love and pride and joy. He holds Kakashi’s colder hand between both of his own, and he can feel all of his past-selves burning in unison. “I would stay. After all these years, and you think I wouldn’t? Rival.”
In Kakashi’s defence, he looks a little abashed. “I’m not exactly a being of light, am I?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters,” Kakashi snaps. “I wouldn’t be sitting here if it didn’t.”
That may as well be a declaration of love. Gai grins, helpless not to, and the next flash of lightning seems to light up the room in fire. “So. High Mage Hatake, huh.”
Kakashi scoffs, but he’s smiling too. “Oh don’t. Naruto’s going to be insufferable.”
They laugh. It seems silly to argue. They’ve disagreed hundreds of times over the centuries, mostly concerning small, insignificant things. Gai wouldn’t call it fighting although Kakashi probably would. The burning of Gai’s Eighth Gate was almost certainly a fight, and if they can still stand together and love each other after that, then everything else is child’s play in comparison. It’s almost impossible to think that they can still step on each other’s toes, and yet here they are.
“Naruto will be thrilled to see you. Sakura too,” Gai says. Kakashi’s not-really-students have come a long way since Kakashi last visited; Naruto has many tales of adventure to recount, and Sakura is High Mage Senju’s greatest apprentice. They both miss Kakashi terribly whenever he’s gone, but they know he goes where the wind blows, and until now, Gai didn’t think there was anything that could tether Kakashi to the ground.
Kakashi hums: even after all this time, he doesn’t quite believe it. “I’ll drop by tomorrow, then. Give them a bit of a surprise.”
“Tomorrow?” Gai hopes he doesn’t sound too eager as he asks, “So you’ll be staying the night?”
“Too short a notice?” Kakashi replies, although he doesn’t seem particularly apologetic. He tucks his feet up onto the couch and gives Gai a look as though to say, well I’m not moving now.
Gai wraps an arm around Kakashi’s shoulders, hugging him close. He supposes he can close the storm-shutters now but he’s warm and comfortable, and his back is barely twinging, so he makes no move to do so. “No. There’s no such thing.”
“Now that sounds like a challenge,” Kakashi mutters, laying his head on Gai’s shoulder. “Is your boy staying the night, too?”
Gai’s boy is scrubbing at a pot in the kitchen, too honourable to eavesdrop. “His name is Lee, and no. He lives in the village. I’ll light a lantern for him to take home.”
For all that the Nara forest is used to the flames, it will shy from Gai’s fire as it shies from no-one else. He doesn’t need Shikamaru or another Nara to lead him through the woods - and if they know why, then they haven’t told a soul. Even Kakashi cannot extinguish Gai’s lanterns, so Lee will be safe as he treks home in the rain.
“Does he know what you are? What I am?” Kakashi asks, almost as Hinata had that morning: do you know what he is?
“No,” Gai says, and as Kakashi turns and kisses his neck, he repeats with barely a breath: “No.”
Kakashi smiles. The touch of his lips is like lightning, like ice. “Not a very observant student then, is he?”
“I -” Gai begins, tipping his head back, enjoying the slow crawl of Kakashi into his space. Lee has already interrupted them once, and he’s only in the kitchen, barely twenty feet away. Gai hasn’t felt so indecent for years.
Kakashi doesn’t seem to mind, digging his fingers into Gai’s good leg and nosing under his ear. “He probably just thinks I’m here to bewitch you,” he whispers, not that he could bewitch Gai; not that he hasn’t already, and is doing so even now. He kisses Gai’s jaw and slides over; Gai’s body is always hot, but with Kakashi in his lap, it’s even hotter still. (It’s why he wears a jumpsuit - to cover how his skin is a blistering flame). But if there’s anyone who can handle it, it’s Kakashi, who’s as cold as the storming rain and as hot as the lightning within.
“If you have to announce what you are to the village,” Gai says between kisses, hoping Lee doesn’t walk in and extinguish this flame. “Then I will too.”
“There’s no need for that,” Kakashi replies, but whether he’d stop Gai, he doesn’t say.
Gai likes to think not, but they are fire and thunder, two destructive forces at play, and though they’ve both laid down their wings for something better, neither are predictable, no matter what the village Seers might say.