Work Text:
That morning, sunlight was barely breaking across the rooftops when the peace of the Hokage residence shattered.
Kakashi, already in full uniform, sat at the kitchen table in quiet urgency, trying to finish his breakfast before anyone in the house could ambush him. His Hokage uniform, a modified dark charcoal version of the junin vest, was fastened neatly, his headband tied, and a black mask hanging off one ear. He had to opt out of his usually sleeveless undershirt with the mask sewed on. It was officially too small, riding up his 27 weeks baby bump and bunching under his uniform.
He was hoping, foolishly, that if he made it to the office early, Sakura and Tenten would forget about the shopping trip altogether. The one his husband had orchestrated the night before without his consent.
That hope had been short-lived.
He had tried to sneak out twice already, but Gai, ever vigilant, had insisted he eat something first. “For the baby,” he had said with a too-innocent smile as he placed a bowl of steaming rice and simmered fish in front of him.
Now here Kakashi was, hunched slightly over his plate, chewing fast, one hand rubbing slow, calming circles over his bump where his child was stretching like a cat just under his ribs. The baby was always active in the mornings, squirming and kicking as if trying to remind Kakashi that time was ticking.
He had just taken another bite when—
BANG!
The kitchen door burst open like a breach on a mission.
Kakashi startled hard, nearly choking, and fumbled to loop his mask back up behind his second ear. He barely managed to have it fully into place before two familiar whirlwinds of energy tumbled into the room.
“Good morning, Hokage-sama!” Sakura and Tenten shouted in gleeful unison, positively glowing two gennins being trusted with their first D rank mission.
Tenten spotted him immediately and beamed. “Oh! You’re dressed but not out the door yet.”
She turned toward Gai. “Thanks for holding him for us!”
Kakashi snapped his head around toward his husband, who was still standing at the counter pouring tea like he hadn't orchestrated the entire betrayal.
His glare was sharp enough to cut stone.
“You did this on purpose,” he accused, voice low and full of betrayal.
Gai shrugged, entirely unapologetic, his smile serene.
At that moment, Pakkun trotted into the kitchen, tail flicking behind him, stretching his front paws lazily before plopping onto the floor with a thump.
“He sure did,” the ninken grumbled toward Kakashi. “He sent me off the second you put your uniform on. I was still sleeping…”
Kakashi groaned, dropping his head into his hand. “Traitors. All of you.”
“I prefer ‘deeply committed,’” Gai offered cheerfully.
Kakashi gestured wildly to his own fully dressed form, voice rising in desperation. “I am in uniform! It fits! Shizune is checking it regularly! She’ll adjust it soon!”
Sakura gave him a tight-lipped, unimpressed smile. “We’re not here to talk about workwear, Kakashi-sensei.”
Sakura pointed a finger at him. “You are not spending the rest of your pregnancy in stiff flak jackets and regulation pants. You need soft clothes. For after work. For lounging. For days off. For comfort.”
Tenten leaned in beside her, eyes sparkling. “And most importantly—for the baby shower.”
Kakashi blinked. “The what now?”
Sakura crossed her arms. “Don’t play dumb. You know it’s happening. Gai-sensei is planning it.”
Kakashi buried his face in both hands, grumbling behind his mask.
Gai moved to Kakashi’s side and bent slightly, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. “You’ll feel better in something cozy,” he said warmly.
“If you'd just tell your child to stop growing.” Kakashi muttered.
“Oh no the bump is proud and healthy, we are keeping it that way" Sakura countered.
“And it’s not like we’re making you wear flowers or embroidery,” Tenten added, though her expression suggested she very much wanted to.
Pakkun sighed from under the table. “You might as well surrender now.”
Kakashi looked up at the three of them and realized this battle was already lost.
And worst of all… it came from love.
He sighed. “I want it stated clearly that I was cornered.”
Gai beamed. “Duly noted.”
Sakura held out her hand. “Let’s go, sensei.”
With one last, dramatic sigh, Kakashi pushed back from the table.
The baby gave a tiny kick, as if in support.
And he stood.
Defeated.
Loved.
And halfway to being dressed in pastel cotton.
Sakura grinned and, wasting no time, grabbed his hand. “Alright! Let’s go, Sensei,” she repeated. “ The shops open early and we’ve already got a route planned—”
But when she tugged, Kakashi didn’t move.
He planted his feet stubbornly, his fingers stiff in hers, refusing to budge an inch.
Sakura blinked at him.
“…Kakashi-sensei?”
He sighed, tone edged with discomfort. “I’m not going shopping in this.”
He gestured down to his Hokage uniform, the black vest and dark pants perfectly in place. “Everyone will stare. The less people recognize me the better.”
Tenten snorted behind her hand.
Sakura rolled her eyes. “They will recognize you no matter what Sensei.”
“Maybe,” Kakashi said, deadpan. “but I’m not walking into a pregnancy shop like this. You want me to wear soft, comfortable clothes, right? Let me go put something on that doesn’t scream I signed a treaty this morning.”
Sakura eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not going to jump out the window?”
Kakashi raised a brow. “Which one?”
“Sensei.”
“I’m joking,” he muttered. “Sort of.”
“Fine. Go change,” Sakura relented, stepping back. “But I will come drag you out of there if you take too long. Naked or not we are going!”
He gave her a small salute and turned, heading slowly down the hallway toward the bedroom, one hand resting on his lower back, the other still absently cradling his belly.
Once he was gone, the house seemed to exhale. Gai began clearing the table, picking up the empty dishes Kakashi had left behind, his movements gentle and practiced.
As he placed the bowl and chopsticks in the sink, he spoke without looking at them.
“Please be careful.”
Tenten and Sakura turned to him, puzzled.
Gai rinsed the bowl slowly. “You’re dragging him out of his comfort zone. And I know that’s the point. But… Kakashi is particular with clothes.”
He didn’t say it unkindly. Just factually. Quietly.
Sakura tilted her head. “Particular how?”
But Gai didn’t elaborate.
He just dried his hands on a towel, his expression unreadable.
Tenten and Sakura exchanged a quick look.
There was something unspoken there. Something Gai wasn’t ready to share, but that they both felt. A faint thread of worry, not just over whether Kakashi would like the clothes, but about what the experience might stir in him. About how it might feel to be seen, really seen, in a body that had changed so much.
Sakura softened. “We’ll take care of him,” she said gently.
Tenten nodded. “We’ll help him find something he actually likes. And we’ll bring him back looking so good, you’ll fall in love all over again.”
Gai turned then, and for the first time that morning, his smile was wide and brigh. The kind that reached his eyes.
“I already do,” he said. “Every day.”
Tenten grinned.
Sakura rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were a little pink.
Gai glanced toward the hallway his rival had disappeared down, his smile softening again.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For taking him out. He doesn’t always let people take care of him.”
“We’re honored,” Tenten said, placing a hand over her chest like she’d been assigned a mission of the highest rank.
Gai chuckled.
“I wish I could come with you,” he admitted. “But Iruka asked for help at the academy. The genin exams are today. The kids are nervous, and he needed an extra pair of hands. Someone to calm them down.”
“Someone loud and enthusiastic, you mean,” Sakura teased.
“Exactly,” Gai said proudly.
Tenten laughed. “Well, the Hokage’s husband spreading the good word of youth to future genin is a pretty solid excuse.”
“We’ll handle you’re beloved rival,” Sakura said. “You’ll have Kakashi back before lunch.”
“In soft clothes,” Tenten added. “Looking extremely huggable.”
Gai placed a hand over his heart.
“My eternal thanks,” he said with mock solemnity.
And just then, soft footsteps padded down the hall.
Kakashi reappeared.
In something cotton.
And very, very grumpy.
He moved slowly, reluctantly, his hands tugging at the hem of the black hoodie he’d thrown on. It was clear he’d hoped the oversized fabric might conceal more than it did. But there was no hiding anymore.
He was dressed in Kurenai’s old dark gray overalls, the soft, utilitarian jumpsuit that she had given him after giving birth to Mirai. The fabric clung gently to the swell of his belly, stretching over the curve like a second skin. Not tight, not uncomfortable, just… unmistakable.
The black hoodie on the other hand, layered under it did little to help. The hem caught awkwardly on the bump bunching under the jumpsuit’s front panel, unable to stretch low enough to lay flat. The result was a bunched-up bulge of fabric sitting on top of the soft slope of his stomach .
And Kakashi looked miserable.
His hood was pulled all the way up, nearly covering his face. The drawstrings were tugged tight, hiding most of his silver hair. His mask was firmly in place, his shoulders slightly hunched, and his eyes, the only part of his face they could see, were narrowed with grumpy determination.
Tenten blinked, a little surprised.
Sakura caught the edges of a chuckle in her throat and quickly smothered it.
Because even if the sight was objectively a little ridiculous. The Copy Ninja, The Sixth Hokage, trying to hide in a hoodie like a sullen teenager. Kakashi was making an effort. And it cost him something.
So she didn’t laugh.
Instead, she stepped forward with a smile that was warm and full of quiet reassurance.
“That looks kind of comfortable,” she said gently. “And not bad, actually.”
Kakashi gave her a long, unimpressed look.
The hoodie shifted as he tugged at it again, grumbling under his breath. “It doesn’t fit.”
“Yeah,” Tenten said. “That’s the point.”
“It’s bunching.”
“You’re bunching,” Pakkun muttered from under the table.
Gai bit the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing and wheeled toward him with a loving smile. “You look wonderful, my love. Radiant.”
Kakashi looked away immediately. “Don’t say radiant. That’s worse.”
But his cheeks had turned a little pink.
Sakura gently stepped toward him, adjusting the way the panel of the overalls sat, tugging the hoodie a bit looser.
“No one’s going to judge you,” she said softly. “We’re just going to find something that feels better. That fits you, not just your body.”
Kakashi didn’t answer right away.
But after a moment, he sighed through his nose and gave the faintest nod.
Without being asked, Gai moved beside Kakashi and crouched with practiced ease, already reaching for the pair of well-worn sandals waiting near the door.
Kakashi didn’t argue.
He just shifted his weight slightly, bracing one hand on the doorframe for balance as Gai helped guide his foot into the strap, then adjusted it with a quick, efficient touch. Then the other.
The way Gai moved around his husband left no room for awkwardness. No hesitation. He buckled the straps neatly, checked the fit, and patted Kakashi’s ankle once before standing again.
It was clear to anyone watching that this wasn’t the first time he’d done it.
And neither man found it strange.
Sakura, watching quietly, felt a tug of understanding.
Kakashi would be stepping into his third trimester tomorrow, and though he’d made it through the second with more grace than most would think possible, the signs were surfacing now.
His back was stiffer in the mornings. His pace was slower. And bending down… well, it was starting to be less of an option than a struggle.
Tenten’s eyes softened with something between amusement and awe.
Her loud, vibrant sensei, the same man who once challenged the Fifth Hokage to a push-up contest just to prove a point no one understood, was now here, on one leg, quietly helping his husband into sandals with the kind of gentleness that didn’t need to be announced.
Once the task was done, Gai pushed himself back up with practiced balance, using the frame of the doorway for support. His movements were steady, even graceful, despite the braced strength it required.
Then, before Kakashi escaped it, Gai reached out and lowered his hood for him, revealing the messy crown of silver hair that had been tucked away.
He leaned in close.
The girls caught only part of the whisper, something soft, low, affectionate.
“You don’t need to hide,” Gai murmured, fingers brushing gently over Kakashi’s cheek through the fabric of the mask.
There was something else, too. A few more words that the girls couldn’t quite make out.
But whatever it was made Kakashi turn slightly, glancing toward them with a flicker of uncertainty before lowering his gaze again.
Gai, ever patient, kissed him quickly on the spot where his lips would be beneath the mask. A soft, brief press, not for show, not for anyone but them.
Then he grinned, bright and open, as if the entire world had just aligned in his favor.
The moment passed like a breath.
And then, quietly, they were ready to go.
And just like that, Kakashi found himself in the heart of the village, standing under the full brightness of morning in the middle of the marketplace.
The square was alive.
Vendors called out over their stalls, their voices weaving into a tapestry of sound. Offers of fresh fish, baked buns, polished trinkets and hand-dyed fabrics loud but not overwhelming. Colorful awnings flapped gently in the breeze, casting rippling shadows over crates of ripe fruit and hand-woven baskets. Children darted between adults, giggling as they chased one another, their sandals slapping lightly against the stone paths. A pair of toddlers toddled past with messy faces, trailing after a merchant selling candied plums. Somewhere nearby, a shamisen player struck up a cheerful tune, the notes carried on the wind.
It was the kind of day that made the village feel impossibly whole after the 4th war.
Kakashi stood just off the main square, tucked slightly back from the line of stalls. Despite his best effort to blend in, it was clear the change of clothes had done little to reduce attention. His hoodie was down now, revealing the unmistakable silver of his hair, and though he kept his shoulders hunched slightly and his eyes low, the villagers noticed.
They saw him.
And they smiled.
Brightly. Warmly.
Some waved as they passed. Others bowed quickly, or called out quiet greetings. “Good morning, Hokage-sama!” or “You’re looking well, sir!” before moving along, as though seeing their Hokage out and about was the most natural thing in the world.
Kakashi hadn’t expected this.
If anything, he’d worried that being outside of uniform would invite questions or awkward stares. But what he was met with instead was familiarity. Acceptance.
Joy.
Tenten and Sakura walked just ahead of him, chatting with ease, their steps light and full of purpose. Every few feet, they stopped to greet someone, a shinobi friend, a neighbor, an old classmate Kakashi didn’t recognize. Tenten leaned into a stall to examine a necklace shaped like a kunai, and Sakura laughed with a merchant over some shared gossip.
They were moving steadily toward the first store they had in mind, but the path was winding, taken at the pace of people who had nowhere to rush to.
Kakashi, meanwhile, kept himself centered on the road, not straying too close to the booths or crowd. Even so, he couldn’t deny his mood was already starting to lift. The buzz of the village, the energy of the people, the hum of laughter and chatter was contagious.
A soft kick from the baby nudged against his palm where he rested it over his belly, as if they felt it too.
He caught himself smiling.
And when he passed Gai’s favorite dango vendor, an older man with a permanent smudge of flour on his apron. Kakashi even raised a hand to wave. The man grinned so hard his eyes nearly vanished behind his cheeks.
Kakashi kept walking, but he could hear the voices around him.
“The Hokage looks good, doesn’t he?”
“Do you know when he’s due?”
“Summer baby! I bet it’s going to be strong.”
“I bet it will be a little boy”
The chatter floated easily through the air, full of excitement rather than intrusion. No one reached for him. No one pressed too close. They just… spoke. Proudly. As if his child was already part of the village’s story.
And just like that, Genma’s words returned to him.
“The whole village is excited.” “It’s… hopeful. It's a reminder that we made it.”
The words Kakashi had not truly believed too busy running the village and dealing with the elders who kept making it clear to anyone who would hear it that they thought his pregnancy was inappropriate. That the Hokage should be a symbol of power. That Kakashi was not cut for the job as an Omega.
He hadn’t believed it, not really.
But now, surrounded by warmth and open streets and easy joy, he felt it.
They were happy.
They really were.
Tenten’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“Kakashi-sensei! Come here for a second!”
He looked up to see her waving him over to a fruit stall nestled beneath a striped orange-and-white awning. The vendor’s table was stacked with baskets of late-season peaches, their skins sun-warmed and rosy, sweet fragrance clinging to the air.
Beside Tenten stood an elderly woman with silver hair pinned up in a neat bun and laugh lines deepened by the sun. She was holding a small child in her arms, a little girl, no more than four, with uneven dark pigtails and wide brown eyes that sparkled with mischief.
The little girl clutched a peach in both tiny hands like it was a treasure.
As Kakashi approached, careful not to startle her, Tenten leaned toward him, grinning. “She said she has a surprise for you.”
He blinked, uncertain. “For me?”
The girl stared up at him, then slowly extended her arms.
The peach trembled slightly in her hands, but she held it out with serious determination.
Kakashi hesitated, just as shy as the girl, if not more so, but reached out and gently took the offering. His fingers brushed hers briefly, and the peach was warm from her grip.
“…Thank you,” he said quietly.
The girl gave him a small, proud smile, cheeks round and flushed.
Kakashi just stood there, awkward as ever, holding the fruit like it was a live explosive.
He wasn’t sure what to do next until the old woman mimicked taking a bite, smiling kindly at him.
“Oh.”
Right.
Kakashi turned his head slightly, shoulders tensing as he reached for the edge of his mask.
With a well-practiced motion, he pulled it down just far enough to reveal his mouth, keeping one hand raised for modesty’s sake as he took a bite from the peach. Juice clung to his thumb as he chewed.
The girl beamed.
She clapped her hands against her grandmother’s shoulder in delight, tiny feet kicking excitedly.
“Does the baby like it?” she asked, voice full of curiosity.
Kakashi blinked, momentarily thrown.
Behind him, Sakura and Tenten chuckled, exchanging looks. Seeing the man with the coldest reputation in the village, sharp-eyed and once feared across nations, softened visibly under the weight of one toddler’s joy was something so sweet it nearly hurt.
Sakura leaned toward Tenten, murmuring, “He’s smashing his old image one toddler interaction at a time.”
Tenten smirked. “It’s kind of amazing.”
Kakashi cleared his throat, adjusting his mask as he looked down at the little girl. “Yes,” he said at last, soft but sincere. “I think the baby liked it.”
The little girl smiled even wider, visibly pleased with herself.
Then, without a word, she wriggled out of her grandmother’s arms and toddled off, her sandals flapping as she ran to join a group of other children playing a game with stones and laughter.
Kakashi stood there for a moment longer, watching her go, the half-eaten peach still in his hand.
The warmth in his chest hadn’t come from the sun.
Sakura grinned, stepping up beside him with her arms crossed, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Well, I think someone’s just about ready to be a father,” she teased.
Kakashi groaned softly, fidgeting with his mask as if to shield himself from the comment. He didn’t argue, though. He just glanced down at the peach still in his hand, the smallest smile tugging at the corners of his eyes.
The old woman beside the stall chuckled, her weathered face creasing with fondness. “You’re going to be a good one,” she said kindly. “I can tell.”
Kakashi inclined his head, a little embarrassed, but quietly grateful.
Before the moment could get too tender, Tenten turned on her heel with all the energy of a mission leader and clapped her hands once. “Alright, let’s move! The shop’s just around the corner, and we’re losing prime browsing time.”
Sakura snorted but followed, waving a thank you to the old woman as she passed.
Kakashi gave one last look toward the children laughing in the square, then down to the peach still cradled in his hand. Juu shifted gently under his palm in response, as if nudging him forward.
And so, he did.
Quietly, Kakashi followed the girls around the corner, toward the little shop waiting ahead, unaware that in a few short minutes, he’d be stepping into a new kind of battlefield entirely.
It was a large shop by Konoha standards, with wide, polished floors and ceiling lights that buzzed faintly overhead. The kind of place that smelled like fresh linen and synthetic fabric softener, with rows upon rows of neatly arranged clothing, each labeled and sorted with clinical precision.
Kakashi hated it on sight.
Sakura and Tenten entered with enthusiasm still buzzing in their steps, but after just a few minutes, it became obvious: this wasn’t going to be as easy as they’d hoped.
Their sensei’s hands dropped stiffly to his sides. He didn’t cradle his bump, didn’t rest a hand protectively over it like he did at home or when he felt safe. Instead, his posture straightened automatically, like a soldier pulling into parade rest. Controlled. Guarded.
Tenten noticed the shift, but said nothing.
They made their way toward the back of the store, weaving between bright displays of winter coats and autumn-themed scarves. The pregnancy section was small, much smaller than Tenten remembered from last time she’d helped a cousin shop here. It was tucked into the far back, as if hidden, like an afterthought. Within that space, the selection for omegas was barely a third of the offerings.
At first, they had let Kakashi wander, hoping he might naturally gravitate toward something. That maybe a certain style or color would catch his eye and open him up.
He moved slowly along the racks, his fingers brushing over a few articles here and there. A light cotton tunic. A pair of dark, wide-legged pants. Something with buttons that made him frown slightly. He touched the fabric absently, but his hand withdrew almost as soon as it landed, like the cloth was warmer than it should be. Too soft. Too unfamiliar.
Then he stopped touching altogether.
Instead, he tucked his hands into the deep pockets of his overalls and simply followed behind them in silence, eyes sliding across the options but never settling. His expression was unreadable. It was calm and composed but his posture gave him away. Shoulders slightly hunched. Feet shifting just a little too often. The kind of discomfort he’d perfected hiding over the years but that neither Sakura nor Tenten missed.
To an outsider, he looked fine.
To them, he looked like someone trying to disappear.
Tenten glanced toward Sakura, her smile faltering just briefly. But Sakura only nodded once, then rolled up her sleeves with purpose.
Kakashi might not enjoy shopping.
But they weren’t giving up.
Sakura dove into a rack of maternity wear with focus, pulling out soft jersey tops, drawstring pants, and tunics with side panels. Tenten tackled the section near the back, hunting for materials that looked light enough for warmer days and roomy enough for after-meal naps. They met in the middle, arms full, colors muted and simple—clothes that wouldn't draw attention, but would offer comfort.
Eventually, Sakura turned to Kakashi, holding up a short stack of neatly folded options.
“Alright, sensei. Fitting room’s that way.”
Kakashi looked at the bundle in her arms, then to the corner of the shop where a modest changing curtain hung.
He hesitated.
Sakura raised a brow. “You don’t have to pick anything right now, but you do have to try somethings.”
Kakashi sighed quietly. Then, with all the resignation of a man walking into a warzone, he stepped forward and took the pile from her hands.
He didn’t argue.
But he didn’t look thrilled either.
Still, he walked toward the changing area, his little one shifting slightly beneath the fabric of his borrowed overalls, and disappeared behind the curtain with a soft rustle.
Tenten exhaled as he went. “We’ve fought entire wars with less effort.”
Sakura grinned. “And this is just the beginning.”
Outside the fitting room, they waited ready to coax, support, and, if necessary, fight every last stitch of resistance their sensei could muster.
They waited.
And waited.
The minutes ticked by, the shop’s quiet music looping once, then again.
Eventually, the curtain rustled.
Kakashi stepped out, still dressed in his dark overalls and hoodie. No sign of the clothes they’d handed him. His hood was back up. His hands were in his pockets. His posture was stiff, but familiar.
He walked straight over to Sakura and handed the neatly folded clothes back into her arms without meeting her eyes.
“They were uncomfortable,” he muttered.
Sakura blinked at him. “Uncomfortable how?”
Kakashi shrugged. “Just… uncomfortable.”
That was it.
No further elaboration. No commentary on the fit or the fabric or how they looked. His voice was flat, but not cold. Just closed off.
Still, Sakura’s eyes narrowed slightly as she took the clothes back. His hair was sticking up in three different directions, and not in the controlled chaos way it usually did. He had definitely tried them on.
Tenten crossed her arms, not missing a beat. “Well, next time, you’re showing us what they look like. That’s the point, you know.”
Kakashi gave her a look, all weary amusement and dry deflection. “You just want blackmail photos.”
Tenten grinned. “I mean… maybe.”
Sakura sighed, folding the clothes back into her arms. “It’s not about forcing you to wear something you don’t like, you know. We’re trying to figure out what you like. What makes you feel good.”
Kakashi nodded once, the motion small.
His hand moved almost unconsciously to the underside of his belly, where the stretched fabric tugged a little as he shifted his weight. He scratched at the hem beneath it without thinking.
Sakura noticed.
Her smile faltered for half a second, and her brow drew down in a quiet frown. But she didn’t say anything.
Not yet.
Kakashi glanced at both of them, then looked away, his fingers curling back into the safety of his pockets. His expression was carefully neutral, but not unreadable.
He looked… not irritated, exactly.
Just tired.
They were still in the middle of trying to coax him back into the changing room, Sakura gently holding up a knit sweater with a relaxed neckline and Tenten gesturing toward a rack of loose pullovers, when a voice interrupted them.
“Excuse me, can I help you find anything today?”
They turned to see a store employee approaching. She was in her mid-thirties, with a friendly smile and a polite, professional posture. Her tone was warm, clearly well-meaning.
But the moment the question left her mouth, Kakashi stiffened like he’d been hit with a jutsu.
He turned toward her with practiced composure, dipped his head in a courteous nod, and said with soft finality, “Thank you, but no. I’m alright.”
Then, before anyone could stop him, he turned on his heel and made a direct, unflinching path toward the exit.
Sakura groaned under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Oh, for the love of—”
Tenten sighed and began folding the items they’d pulled from the rack. “Well. That was that.”
The employee looked startled and stepped back, her brows creasing in concern. “I’m so sorry… did I do something wrong?”
Sakura offered her a quick, apologetic smile. “No, no, not at all. You were great.”
Tenten shook her head as she gently returned a tunic to its hanger. “You just had the misfortune of speaking to the Hokage while he was pretending he didn’t exist.”
The woman blinked. “That was—?”
Sakura nodded. “Yeah. Not a fan of shopping, I’m afraid.”
The woman pressed her lips together, clearly trying to remain professional, but a faint blush rose to her cheeks. “That’s a shame,” she murmured, almost to herself. “He’d look good in anything.”
To Tenten’s horror and surprise, her first instinct was to snap.
The woman’s casual comment, her little blush, the wistful “he’d look good in anything” it hit the wrong nerve. Hard.
Tenten could feel the words burning on the tip of her tongue. Back off. He’s pregnant. He’s married to MY sensei. She almost said it, too, sharp and biting, like she was guarding something fragile and sacred. Like it was her job to protect him.
Her fingers twitched around the fabric she was folding.
But then a strange thought struck her, clear and sudden.
Kakashi Hatake does not need protection.
And Gai didn’t not need help keeping Kakashi loyal to him.
They were both shinobi of terrifying caliber. One had moved through the world like a ghost for decades, deadly and silent. The other had faced Madara with a broken body and still left the battlefield standing. They were not fragile. Not breakable.
And yet.
They had let her into that soft part of their life anyway. The domestic, deeply private version of themselves that very few people got to see. They let her witness the quiet tenderness between them, the fierce love they poured into this tiny life growing inside Kakashi. They let her help plan for the baby’s arrival, and vet lullabies, and argue over what Juu might look like.
It was an honor. It was… intimate.
And it made her want to fight anyone who looked at them the wrong way.
She swallowed hard, surprised by her own reaction.
Her mouth opened, then closed again. She didn’t know what to say.
Sakura, of course, had no such struggle.
She snorted, utterly unbothered. “Yeah,” she agreed with the woman’s parting comment. “He really would look good in anything.”
The employee smiled, bowed, and walked off toward the register.
Sakura turned, ready to herd Kakashi back inside before he could vanish entirely, but noticed Tenten hadn’t moved. Her friend was still standing beside the half-folded shirts, staring after the woman, wide-eyed.
Sakura raised an eyebrow. “Tenten?”
“I almost snapped at her,” Tenten admitted, stunned. “Like, actually snapped. Over that comment. What is wrong with me?”
Sakura chuckled and crossed her arms. “Nothing’s wrong with you.”
Tenten shot her a disbelieving glare.
Sakura’s smirk softened into something more amused than mocking. “It’s not you. It’s them.”
Tenten blinked. “What?”
“The hormones,” Sakura explained, waving vaguely toward the exit where Kakashi had disappeared. “Kakashi’s pregnant. His body is flooding with omega hormones right now, and Gai’s system has been adjusting for weeks, gearing up to feed the baby after birth. Their bond is intense. Strong. And you’ve been around them. A lot.”
Tenten just stared, still processing.
“It rubs off,” Sakura added. “Kind of like secondhand smoke. But with emotions.”
That didn’t seem to reassure her. If anything, Tenten looked more horrified.
Sakura sighed. “Look, if it makes you feel better… I screamed at the Raikage in front of an audiance.”
Tenten blinked. “You what?”
“Oh yeah.” Sakura made a face and rubbed her temple. “Not my proudest moment. I still cringe thinking about it. Completely lost it. The man so much as hinted that Kakashi should be following the same diet as his omegas bearing his offpsring, and I was halfway across the table shouting telling him to back off.”
There was a beat of stunned silence.
And then Tenten burst out laughing.
It was loud, sharp, and slightly hysterical. She doubled over slightly, wiping at her eyes as she gasped for air. “You yelled at the Raikage?!”
Sakura threw up her hands. “I know! Don’t remind me!”
They dissolved into quiet giggles, the tension finally breaking between them.
Tenten pressed a hand to her chest, still catching her breath, and whispered, “This kid is already driving us all crazy.”
Sakura grinned. “And yet,” she said softly, “I can’t wait to cuddle them.”
Tenten smiled back, the warmth returning to her chest.
Yeah, neither could she.
“Come on, let’s go,” Sakura urged, nudging Tenten lightly.
They slipped out of the store in quick strides, fully expecting to have to chase Kakashi halfway across the village. Sakura was already muttering a mild curse, eyes scanning the street.
But Tenten grabbed her arm and pointed. “There.”
Across the road, tucked beneath the gentle shade of a wide tree, Kakashi was seated on a wooden bench. He hadn’t gone far at all.
To their surprise, he looked… settled. Not relaxed, exactly, but calmer. One hand rested over the curve of his stomach, fingers tapping in slow, rhythmic beats. His overalls hung over his frame, bunching slightly at the sides where Juu pressed outward, but Kakashi didn’t seem to care.
He was murmuring something, voice too low to hear, eyes lowered in concentration. Tenten couldn’t tell if he was talking to the baby or just thinking aloud, but the way his hand moved, gentle and protective, made her chest ache.
They stepped up to the edge of the bench.
Kakashi glanced up, and there was a flash of sheepishness in his expression. “I figured you’d be long gone,” Sakura said dryly, folding her arms.
He gave a half-shrug, eyes flicking back down to his belly. “I don’t want to be uncomfortable in my own clothes,” he mumbled. “Even if I’m not great at showing it.” His fingers brushed lightly across the bump, almost unconsciously. “Plus, it’s important to Gai.”
Tenten swallowed, her heart soft and full.
Sakura’s face gentled.
Kakashi was quiet for a while.
He still wasn’t looking at them, his gaze stayed fixed ahead, where two children were chasing bubbles blown by a street vendor. The orbs drifted lazily through the air, catching light as they burst.
Then, at last, he spoke.
“There wasn’t anything there I liked.”
His voice was low, even, but carried clearly in the quiet between them.
Sakura glanced down at him, a little surprised. She hadn’t expected him to say anything at all.
He continued, slower this time. “Everything was… too much. The colors. The styles. All of it designed to—” he waved vaguely at his midsection, the motion loose and noncommittal “—put this front and center.”
Tenten crouched in front of him with a grin, resting her arms casually over her knees. “Well, you are in your peak cute baby bump era,” she said brightly. “You’re glowing, the bump is round and proud. It can’t be hidden and honestly, it shouldn’t.”
Kakashi hesitated.
His fingers tugged lightly at the hem of his hoodie, where the fabric had bunched slightly over the swell of his belly and the soft fit of the overalls beneath. He rubbed the spot slowly, almost absentminded.
“It doesn’t feel cute,” he muttered. Then, after a pause, he added in a quieter voice, “But I don’t want to hide Juu. Not anymore.”
That made both women pause.
Their eyes turned to him at once.
He still wasn’t looking back. His gaze stayed ahead, unfocused now. His voice had dropped to something quiet. Uncertain.
“When I first started showing, I…” He swallowed, the words catching, like they’d been buried too long. “I wanted to protect them. Shield them. From the council. The elders. From how people were looking at me.”
Sakura’s breath caught just slightly. The frustration she’d carried earlier evaporated. He hadn’t told them this before.
And she could tell it cost him something to say it now.
“I just…” he exhaled slowly. “I don’t want the bump to be the only thing people see.”
There was no bitterness in his voice. Just a quiet weariness. The kind that came from a lifetime of being seen in fragments. Hokage, shinobi, prodigy, weapon. Never whole. Never just Kakashi.
Tenten nodded, all cheer gone from her expression now. “Fair,” she said seriously. “And honestly? That store wasn’t it. Too polished. Too much lace and stretch and drama. You need something that feels like you.”
Then her face lit up. “This is why you are gonna love the next one! There’s a smaller place, just past the bakery street. It’s not like the others, it’s made for omega pregnancies specifically.”
Kakashi raised an eyebrow at that, clearly skeptical.
Tenten grinned. “It’s not just a clothing store. They’ve got health care supplies, pillows, supplements, books. Stuff for before, during, and after birth. It’s not crowded. And the people there know how to help.”
Kakashi’s brow remained lifted, unconvinced.
Sakura saw it and smiled gently. “It makes sense you’ve never heard of it,” she told him. “It’s not one of the rebuilt stores from before the war. It’s new. A lot of things are changing, and some, thanks to you Kakashi-Sensei.”
She looked at him with quiet certainty. “With the after war baby boom and more omegas feeling safe, visible, and accepted, that place is going to do really well. It already is.”
Kakashi didn’t say anything at first, but his hand drifted again to the roundness of his belly, where Juu shifted lazily beneath the fabric. A few villagers passed by, smiling kindly, offering little nods of greeting. One woman murmured, “Congratulations, Hokage-sama,” with a hand over her heart.
He gave a small nod in return.
Then he looked to Sakura and Tenten, resigned but not cold.
“…Fine,” he said. “One more store.”
Tenten grinned. “That’s all we needed to hear.”
Sakura held her hand out toward Kakashi.
He stared at it flatly.
She grinned. “Come on.”
Kakashi sighed through his nose, something unintelligible muttered behind his mask about being perfectly capable of getting up on his own. But even as he spoke, his gloved hand reached out to meet hers.
Their fingers curled together.
With a quiet exhale, Sakura hoisted him gently to his feet. He rose slowly, his hand steady in hers, the movement practiced but no longer effortless. His center of gravity had shifted again, and though he accounted for it as best he could, his balance tipped just slightly off. His weight rocked forward before he caught himself.
Sakura didn’t let go.
She held on until she felt the tension ease in his posture and his footing realign beneath him.
“I know,” she said softly, before he could say anything else. “But it’s still okay to let someone take a little weight off sometimes.”
Kakashi didn’t answer. But he didn’t pull away either.
Tenten clapped once, her voice full of mission-leader energy. “Alright! This way!”
As soon as they stepped inside, Kakashi understood what the girls had meant.
The shop was nothing like the others.
The shop they arrived at was smaller, much smaller than the last one, but it felt different the moment they stepped through the door. Kakashi came to an abrupt stop just inside the threshold, eyes narrowing as he took in the space.
On one side, a rack displayed a collection of pregnancy clothes, simple and neutral tones, soft cottons and linens designed for comfort and ease rather than spectacle. Nearby, a modest but well-stocked bookshelf wrapped around the corner, filled with titles on omega pregnancies, postpartum care, birth preparation, and parenting. There were folded baby wraps arranged neatly in woven baskets, and a low display of nursing supplies, pillows, and support slings. A cozy bench with a few cushions sat near the window, inviting customers to rest without pressure.
It was quiet. Calm. The lighting was soft and golden, not harsh and white. The air smelled faintly of tea and dried herbs. Natural wood shelves lined the walls, and everything felt a little lived-in.
He didn’t move right away.
Tenten and Sakura had already started toward the clothing racks tucked in the left corner, but Kakashi lingered, gaze drifting.
There was a bookshelf just near the entrance, low and full, angled beside a wide cushioned bench. It wasn’t a flashy display, no bright signs or flashy titles, but something about it pulled his attention. The covers were soft-toned, the titles embossed in calming fonts.
Kakashi stepped closer.
There were books on omega anatomy, on hormone cycles and pregnancy stages. Guides for stretching and breathwork. Journals for tracking mood swings, cravings, dreams. He skimmed a hand across a shelf and paused at a thin paperback with water-colored flowers on the front. “Parenting Through the Bond: Nurturing Connection from Womb to Cradle.”
His fingers ghosted over the title. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to pick it up. But he read it. Twice.
Beside the books sat small ceramic bowls filled with polished stones and weighted tokens meant for grounding during contractions. Tucked nearby were little herbal sachets, their scent barely noticeable until he leaned in.
He could still hear the girls chatting in the background, voices soft as they flicked through clothing on wooden hangers. But they didn’t call for him. Didn’t rush him.
They let him look.
So he stayed by the books a little longer.
And for the first time that day, Kakashi didn’t feel out of place.
So he moved slowly, his gaze drifting across the room, trailing his fingertips along the spines until one title stopped him cold.
He recognized it immediately.
The same book Sakura had given Gai and him not long after they found out he was expecting. It was a comprehensive, somewhat dry-looking text on the biology of omega pregnancy with full of diagrams and footnotes and practical advice.
Kakashi had never opened it.
Not once. But Gai had.
He’d watched him night after night, sitting cross-legged in bed, or perched at the kitchen table or in the office, brow furrowed as he underlined sections, scribbled notes in the margins. Gai had read the whole thing. Twice, maybe more, just trying to understand what Kakashi was going through.
Kakashi reached out and touched the edge of the cover.
His fingers lingered.
He didn’t notice the soft footsteps behind him until a voice broke the quiet.
“Need any help?”
Kakashi startled slightly, pulling his hand back on instinct.
A young man stood a few feet away, hands clasped gently in front of him. He was dressed simply, in soft layers of gray and green, with a wrap around his waist and sandals that looked worn but clean. His expression was relaxed and warm. Not overly friendly, not pushing, just open.
Kakashi’s first reaction kicked in like muscle memory. He turned slightly, took a small step back, and mumbled, “No… Just looking. Thank you.”
The man nodded, already beginning to move away, respecting the distance.
But something about him made Kakashi pause.
He wasn’t the kind of helpful that hovered. He wasn’t trying to sell anything. His presence was quiet, calm. There was no pity in his gaze. No curiosity.
Just calm patience. Like someone who understood what it meant to need time.
Kakashi’s fingers hovered over the spine of the pregnancy guide as he spoke, voice low but steady.
“Actually…” He cleared his throat, eyes flicking toward the man beside him. “Do you have any books for omega partners? Nursing books, specifically?”
The man’s expression lit up instantly. His eyes crinkled with a smile that felt genuine as if he was just pleased to be asked.
“Oh, absolutely,” he said. “My favorite is this one.”
He turned and stepped toward a nearby shelf, kneeling briefly to pull out a softbound book with a pale cover and rounded corners. He handed it over with care, like it was something treasured.
“I’ve got my own copy at home,” he added with a sheepish smile. “I’ve already read it once… probably going to read it again before the baby’s here. My boyfriend’s still pregnant, but—” He gave a small laugh. “I’m just really excited. About nursing. About everything.”
Kakashi blinked at him, a bit caught off guard.
“Wait,” he said, hesitating, “you’re… planning on nursing?”
He knew it was a personal question. Maybe too personal. But the words slipped out before he could stop them.
The man didn’t seem offended.
If anything, he looked quietly proud.
“Yeah,” he said simply. “We talked about it early on. It feels right, for us.”
Kakashi’s gaze drifted back to the book in his hands, thumbing through the first few pages.
It was still rare.
Not unheard of but rare.
Nursing by an omega’s partner was still rare. Most partners opted for hormone suppressors early on. It was easier that way. Less strain on the body. Less attention. Less stigma. Society accepted that choice far more readily.
But Gai had never cared about what was easy.
He had spoken about nursing long before Juu had even been a possibility. Long before they had dared to hope for a child. He had said it with absolute certainty, like it was simply a fact about himself, something as natural as breathing.
He wants to provide. He wants to be part of it.
Gai had always been like that. Loud where others were quiet. Earnest where others hesitated. Unapologetically himself in a world that rewarded conformity.
An oddity.
A beautiful one.
Kakashi blinked back to the present as the man beside him shifted, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
Then his eyes widened a little. “Wait. Gai-sama… is your partner right?”
Kakashi hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “He is.”
A warm, almost relieved smile spread across the young man’s face.
“He’s he also planning on nursing? That’s… that’s amazing,” he said, softer now. “It’s nice to not feel alone.”
He held the thought there for a second, then added shyly, “I didn’t really understand what my boyfriend meant, at first. When he got so excited… finding out you were expecting. That the Hokage was pregnant. But I get it now.”
Kakashi looked at him, eyebrows raised slightly.
The man shrugged, still smiling. “It just… it helps. Seeing people like us. Makes all of this feel more possible.”
Kakashi didn’t know what to say at first.
No one had said something like that to him before.
Not like that.
He glanced down at the book in his hands, then over at the shelves full of quiet, honest things made for people like him. Made for families like his. And for the first time in a long while, the weight in his chest felt a little less sharp.
“…Thanks,” Kakashi said quietly.
And he meant it.
The man smiled again and gestured toward the counter nearby.
“Would you like me to hold on to the book while you look around with your friends?”
Kakashi glanced down at it, then back up at him, nodding once.
“Sure… thanks.”
He handed it over, and the man accepted it with careful hands, tucking it into a small bin behind the counter labeled On Hold. As he returned, his gaze swept over Kakashi thoughtfully. It was kind and also a little assessing.
“By the way,” he said, “those overalls really suit you. We actually carry the same model in a few different colors.”
Kakashi blinked. “Seriously?”
“Mmhm,” the man said with a friendly smile. “They’re popular, low-pressure fabric, adjustable straps, soft seams. A good choice for third trimester comfort.”
He paused, eyeing Kakashi’s hoodie with a slight wince. “Though… maybe we can find something to replace the hoodie? Looks like it’s bunching underneath, and I’m guessing it doesn’t feel great.”
Kakashi sighed and tried, again, to adjust the hoodie where it tugged awkwardly across his bump. “It doesn’t,” he muttered.
The man chuckled. “I’ll let Tenten help you with that.”
Kakashi glanced up at him, brow raised. “You know Tenten?”
“Oh yeah,” the man said with a laugh. “She’s been here before. A few weeks ago, actually.”
He leaned lightly against the shelf, his expression warm with the kind of fondness reserved for familiar, energetic customers.
“She told me, and the owner, that she was scouting ahead. Said she had a very reluctant family member with a little one on the way and wanted to be prepared to help however she could.”
He laughed again, shaking his head. “I just didn’t realize she meant you. Or that the little one she was talking about was the Hokage’s baby.”
Kakashi stood very still for a moment.
Then his heart tightened and softened again just as fast.
Tenten.
Loyal, bold, sharp-eyed Tenten, doing recon for the people she loved. She hadn’t said a word about it. Hadn’t made a big deal out of it. Just… done what she always did.
Prepared. Protected. Cared.
Kakashi’s hand drifted lightly to his belly, where his baby was resting still.
Before he could say anything else, he heard her voice.
“Renji!” she greeted happily, using his name with easy familiarity.
The young man smiled back, clearly pleased to see her. Tenten’s gaze dropped immediately to the book in his hands, and a knowing grin spread across her face. She didn’t comment on it, but the look said everything.
She clapped her hands together once. “Alright, I think we’ve given Kakashi enough time to vibe with the place.”
Kakashi shot her a look over his mask.
Tenten ignored it completely and turned back to Renji. “I need to steal the Hokage now and attempt to dress him.”
Renji chuckled softly. “Good luck with that.”
He shifted the books under one arm and gave Kakashi a small nod. “If you need anything at all, just call. Otherwise, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thank you,” Tenten said sincerely.
Renji stepped away, already blending back into the quiet rhythm of the shop.
Tenten immediately guided Kakashi toward Sakura, a gentle but determined hand at his elbow. “Come on, sensei. We found so many things.”
As they walked, she talked without stopping, her excitement bubbling over. “Okay, so first of all, the fabrics here are incredible. Light. Breathable. Nothing stiff or scratchy. Perfect for summer, especially with how warm you’ve been getting lately.”
Sakura nodded enthusiastically beside her, arms full of folded clothes. “We went for layers,” she added. “Things you can adjust without having to completely change. And nothing flashy. I promise.”
Tenten handed Kakashi the first outfit, folded neatly. “This one’s cotton and bamboo blend. Super soft. It stretches without clinging.”
Then another. “And this one’s linen, but the good kind. Won’t wrinkle too badly, and it actually breathes.”
Kakashi stared down at the growing pile in his arms, already overwhelmed.
The girls, meanwhile, looked thrilled.
Tenten’s smile was wide and hopeful, the kind that made it very clear she wanted him to like this. Sakura’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, clearly already picturing the results.
“We think you’re going to like these,” Sakura said gently. “At least enough to give them a chance.”
Tenten leaned in with a grin. “Just try them. That’s all we’re asking.”
They were practically vibrating with excitement.
And somehow, in this quieter space, with their enthusiasm wrapping around him instead of pressing in, Kakashi found himself nodding.
“Alright,” he murmured.
Well, turns out Gai was right, as usual, when it came to his husband.
Kakashi was particular about clothes.
No matter how soft, how stretchy, how perfectly draped the outfit was, every time he stepped out from behind the curtain, it was the same story. The girls would smile at first, Sakura even beamed once. Tenten let out an appreciative chirp. Because honestly, the man looked good in anything. Pregnancy suited him in ways no one expected, the light in the room seemed to catch his hair, his eyes, the healthy flush that had settled on his skin these past weeks. Even his stance, reluctant and sheepish with one hand half-resting on his belly, added to the effect.
He was glowing.
But Kakashi never looked pleased.
He would shuffle out in another loose tunic or robe set, hoodie replaced by some airy layer they’d found, and his face would always carry the same expression, tight-lipped and slightly aprehensive, like he was bracing for enemy fire.
“The tag’s in a weird place,” he mumbled under his breath for the third time that hour, tugging slightly at the hem of yet an other soft knit shirt.
Sakura’s smile twitched, as he had turned to try another outfit.
It twitched harder when he came out again, looking just as unconvinced as before.
Tenten could feel Sakura’s patience beginning to fray.
The pink-haired kunoichi crossed her arms, watching as Kakashi emerged again and tugged once at the shirt’s hem before declaring, “It bunches.”
“It doesn’t,” Sakura said evenly.
Kakashi looked at her. “It feels like it does.”
Sakura’s lips thinned. “Okay. But where exactly? Show me.”
He faltered. “I don’t know. It just... does.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Tenten winced slightly, sensing the shift.
Kakashi didn’t meet Sakura’s eyes.
Sakura stepped closer. “Kakashi-sensei, we’ve been through five outfits now. All of them fit. All of them look good. You’ve said you’re not hiding the bump anymore, so what is it? What’s wrong?”
He stared at the floor, one hand resting over the curve of his stomach again, fingers pressing in gently.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly.
It wasn’t defensive.
It wasn’t dismissive.
It was honest.
And somehow, that made it worse.
Frustration thickened in the space between them, unspoken but present. Sakura stepped back, biting down a sigh, arms still folded.
Tenten glanced at her, then at Kakashi, who was now gently rubbing the side of his arm through the fabric. She reached to give him an other outfit they had prepared for him to try but Sakura stops her.
“ Not before he gives us a real reason.”
Tenten froze unsure if she should defend the Hokage or tell Sakura off.
“It’s scratchy,”Kakashi reluctantly added, pulling at the neckline like it was plotting against him.
That was the last straw.
Sakura’s eye twitched.
She spun toward the rack behind her, rifling through the options like she was preparing a counterattack.
“Scratchy?” she muttered under her breath. “I hand-picked these myself. They’re softer than a baby’s bum.”
She turned back around sharply, and her jaw tightened
“We’re not leaving,” she said sharply, the words landing harder than she intended, “until we find something.”
Kakashi looked up at her.
“We committed to this shopping trip,” she went on, frustration spilling over. “You hate it, we know. But you refusing every single outfit without a real reason is just making it longer. And worse.”
He stiffened at that, shoulders drawing in slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.
Sakura stepped closer, her voice lowering but sharpening. “I know you, Kakashi-sensei. I know when you’re being stubborn. And you’re doing this on purpose. I just don’t know why.”
Her hands clenched at her sides. “All Gai wants. All Tenten wants. All I want is for you to be comfortable. Why are you so opposed to that?”
Kakashi stayed mostly calm.
Mostly.
But his face was pale, and his hair was a mess, spiked and slightly damp from changing in and out of so many outfits. He’d started to pant lightly after the last round. Not from exertion, exactly, but from standing and shifting and bending in ways that no longer came easily at almost twenty-eight weeks pregnant.
Something in Kakashi’s expression closed completely. Like a door locking from the inside.
His mouth pressed into a thin line, brows knitting together as he looked away. When he spoke, his voice was flat, controlled, and far too tight.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting me to be comfortable,” he said. “But the clothes are wrong. All of them.”
Sakura opened her mouth, but he kept going.
“And right now,” he added quietly, “I just want to go home.”
He shifted his weight, one hand bracing against his lower back without thinking. His posture betrayed him even if his voice didn’t.
“You want to know the truth?” he said, his voice low as he gestured vaguely to his midsection. “I feel heavy. My back throbs. My hips burn. Every step feels like I’ve got a kunai wedged in my spine. With or without clothes that fit. So what’s the point?”
“I’m uncomfortable all the time,” he continued. “That’s pregnancy. Isn’t it? So why is everyone so invested in this like it’s something you can solve?”
His voice rose just a fraction, enough to sting. “Why does it matter so much?”
Sakura felt the words hit her chest hard.
She stepped forward again, anger flaring. “We’re just trying to make it more bearable, Sensei. That’s it. That’s all we’re doing.”
“By forcing me to stand here and justify myself?” he shot back quietly. “I told you everything I could already. The clothes just feel wrong!”
The tension cracked.
Sakura inhaled sharply, ready to snap something back she would regret.
She never got the chance.
Sakura’s mouth opened, but before she could fire back, Tenten stepped in.
“Okay,” she said sharply, holding up a hand and cutting the air between them.
Her tone brooked no argument.
Sakura frowned. “But he’s—”
“No,” Tenten said firmly, grabbing her elbow and physically pulled her back. “You need to back off. Right now.”
“Tenten,” Sakura protested under her breath, still keyed up, “I’m not done.”
“Yes, you are,” Tenten said tightly, not looking back.
Tenten dragged Sakura away so abruptly that Kakashi could only stare after them, dumbfounded and clearly unsure whether he was supposed to follow, retreat, or apologize.
Once they were out of his earshot, Sakura yanked her elbow free, clearly offended.
“Tenten, what was that—”
Before she could finish, Tenten rounded on her.
“No,” she said firmly. Not angry. Grounded. “Absolutely not.”
Sakura blinked, taken aback by the tone.
“Gai-sensei warned us,” Tenten continued, lowering her voice but not the intensity. “He explicitly warned us that it wouldn’t be easy. And frankly, losing it on an uncomfortable pregnant omega is not a good look, Sakura.”
Sakura opened her mouth, then snapped it shut, scowling. “I wasn’t losing it. I was trying to get through to him.”
“And you were pushing,” Tenten shot back. “Hard.”
She crossed her arms, then shook her head. “And don’t forget who you’re talking to. Pregnant or not, Kakashi Hatake is still one of the most dangerous shinobi alive. If he wanted to leave, he would’ve already been gone.”
She gestured vaguely toward the front of the shop. “Who exactly do you think could stop him?”
Sakura scoffed. “Nobody’s forcing him to stay.”
“Exactly,” Tenten said. “And yet he’s still here.”
That gave Sakura pause.
Tenten softened just a fraction. “He’s trying, Sakura.”
Sakura’s frustration flared again. “I know him. He’s just being difficult.”
Tenten didn’t argue.
She just lifted her chin and gestured back toward Kakashi. “Oh really? Just look at him.”
Sakura did.
And her breath caught.
Kakashi stood a few paces away, exactly where they’d left him. He hadn’t sat down. Hadn’t leaned against anything. He was standing there, shoulders slightly slumped now, chest rising a little faster than before. Not panicked. Just tired.
Panting, slightly, like the effort of changing in and out of clothes with his belly in the way had finally caught up to him.
His hair had was rufflled, silver strands falling into his face in uneven disarray. The neat composure he usually wore like armor was slipping. One hand rested at his side, the other hovered uncertainly near his lower back, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to acknowledge the ache there.
And his eyes.
They were fixed on them.
Until her eyes met his. Then, like a reflex, he dropped his gaze and turned toward the tall mirror next to the changing room, pretending to study his reflection. But the way his shoulders hunched, the way his arms hung awkwardly at his sides, betrayed his discomfort.
He wasn’t really looking at himself.
He looked uncertain. Off-balance in a way that had nothing to do with the extra weight he was carrying.
Sakura’s felt her heart unexpectedly squeeze in her chest.
“There’s something we’re not seeing,” she murmured.
Tenten nodded, quietly. “I think…” she hesitated, then said it plainly, “I don’t think he’s being difficult, I think he has a sensory aversion.”
Sakura scoffed at Tenten’s suggestion, instinctively, a spark of disbelief rising up her throat.
But then she stopped.
Her lips parted like she was about to argue again, but no words came out. Her expression froze for just a second. Her brows pulled together and her eyes flicking down as if replaying something in her mind.
Tenten saw the moment it hit her.
The shift behind her eyes. The way her stance softened, just slightly.
Because Sakura knew.
She knew Kakashi always wore the same clothes. The same uniform, day after day, mission after mission. She’d once thought it was convenience. Simplicity.
But now…
He’d worn that same dark sleeveless undershirt with the integrated mask for as long as she’d known him and had seen it on older pictures. Always high-collared, always snug around his neck and shoulders. The mask stitched directly into the fabric so he never had to adjust it, never had to feel the seam press against his neck.
Always the same gloves,fingerless, yes, but worn indoors, at meals, even on paperwork-heavy days.
The sweaters. Always and only Gai’s old sweaters. Soft and worn, stretched at the sleeves. Familiar and ingrained into his life since they had probably started dating years ago now.
And when he became Hokage… Tsunade had nearly lost her mind trying to get him to wear the ceremonial robe. The sheer resistance Kakashi had shown every time he was told he had to wear the traditional white robe and red-trimmed hat.
In the end, they had never truly succeeded at forcing him into robes at all.
They’d redesigned his shinobi uniform, same cut, same style, just with charcoal gray tones.
And it had worked.
He wore that every day. Always with his trusted undershirt layered underneath it.
Until… today.
Today, he wasn’t wearing it.
And suddenly Sakura realized his mask was.
Not the usual cloth integrated into his shirt. Today it was a simple black medical mask, hooked around his ears. Loose around the edges.
She’d never seen him wear one like that.
Not once.
Her breath caught.
Why didn’t I notice it before?
Because it was subtle.
Because it was Kakashi.
He didn’t complain. He didn’t explain. He didn’t ask for accommodations. He just adapted, quietly, uncomfortably, until it became too much, and then he snapped.
She exhaled, guilt pricking at her ribs like small needles.
He hadn’t been trying to sabotage the trip.
He was just trying to tolerate it.
And failing.
Sakura glanced back toward Kakashi and felt the realization hit her like a stone dropped into her chest.
Oh god.
He hadn’t been stubborn for no reason.
He hadn’t been difficult.
She had gotten angry. Pushed him.
Demanded he explain why something felt wrong when he didn’t have the words for it, because there weren’t words. Because it was something deep in his body, in his senses, that rebelled against texture, pressure, seams, hems.
And now, with his body changing daily, his balance shifting, his skin more sensitive than ever, of course it was worse.
She had treated it like defiance.
Like refusal.
And it wasn’t.
Guilt slammed into her full force.
Her breath caught.
“I…” she whispered. “I got mad at him for something he can’t control.”
Tenten’s voice was quiet beside her. “Let’s just try a different approach.”
Sakura nodded slowly, eyes still locked on Kakashi.
He hadn’t moved. He just stood there in front of the mirror, one hand creeping back up to scratch his bump this time, fingers dragging restlessly over the unfamiliar fabric. Still trying.
Still enduring.
And suddenly, all Sakura wanted to do was walk over and tell him she was sorry.
Tenten approached him first.
Kakashi turned toward them, his gaze wary and still a little guarded, still unsure. His expression flickered with suspicion, but beneath it was something far more raw.
Worry.
As if he was wondering if this was the part where they’d give up on him. Leave him behind. Decide he was too much.
He opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something. But nothing came out. Just a breath that stalled in his throat, and then faded.
Tenten smiled first, wide and bright and gentle. She lifted her hand and waved him toward the bench behind him.
“Come on,” she said, voice light. “Sit. Let’s get you off your feet.”
Her tone left no room for argument. Only care.
Kakashi hesitated for half a second, then moved stiffly, easing himself down onto the bench with obvious caution. Tenten sat beside him without waiting, close enough to lend support if he needed it but not touching him. Not crowding.
Sakura finally moved, quietly folding herself down in front of him, sitting back on her heels.
They didn’t speak.
Not at first.
The air felt different now, less like tension, more like a held breath. Like they had all stepped out of a battle they hadn’t realized they were fighting. Kakashi scratched at his belly again, clearly uncomfortable.
After a beat the pink haired medic gently but firmly caught his wrist, stopping the motion mid-scratch.
“Kakashi-sensei,” she said softly.
He startled, eyes flicking down to her, instinctively pulling back. “I’m fine.”
“I know,” she replied. “Just… let me look.”
Sakura lifted the hem of the shirt Kakashi was currently trying on just a little, careful and respectful.
Kakashi tensed immediately, muscles locking, breath hitching. His hand curled reflexively against his thigh.
Sakura bit back a curse.
His usually pale skin was flushed and irritated, red patches blooming across his ribs and upper belly where the fabric had rubbed. Some spots looked freshly scratched, others darker, older, like this had been building for a while.
Sakura swallowed.
“You’re not just being difficult,” she murmured.
Kakashi looked away, lips pressed thin.
She lowered the fabric again and looked up at him, her expression gentler now. “Where’s your black undershirt?” she asked quietly. “The one you always wear.”
He hesitated.
“It’s… too small now,” he said after a moment. His voice was flat, like he was stating a weather report. “Doesn’t fit anymore.”
Sakura’s chest tightened.
She took a breath, steadying herself. “Sensei,” she said carefully, “do you have sensory issues?”
For a heartbeat, he didn’t react.
Then he looked at her.
And his eyes darted away, down and to the side, like he’d been caught doing something he didn’t have words for. His ears pinked faintly beneath his hair.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “I just… don’t like certain things.”
Tenten didn’t say anything.
She didn’t need to.
The answer was written all over him.
Sakura let out a slow breath, the kind that carried more weight than air.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
She lowered the hem of the shirt back down with deliberate care, making sure it did not drag or rub more than necessary. The irritation she had seen still burned behind her eyes. Red patches. Angry skin. Evidence he had not complained about once.
Guilt settled heavy in her chest.
They were never going to find anything here if new fabric felt like this on him. Not like this. Not now. Pregnancy had sharpened everything. Sensation, pressure, heat. What might have been tolerable months ago was clearly unbearable now.
Kakashi looked at her, searching her face.
He expected disappointment. Frustration. Maybe even irritation.
He found none.
Still, he tried to salvage it, voice low and careful. “Maybe… maybe if I wear that polo again. The dark one. I could get used to it. If we cut the tag off, and…” He hesitated, then added quietly, “I did like how it looked.”
Sakura’s expression softened completely.
“No,” she said, firm but gentle. “We are not going to make you suffer just because something looks nice.”
She shifted closer, lowering her voice. “We will find a solution. We just picked the wrong layer.”
He blinked. “Layer?”
“You don’t need new outer shirts,” she continued. “You need a bigger undershirt. Something your skin already trusts.”
She paused, then asked carefully, “Where did you get the black ones you usually wear?”
Kakashi’s gaze drifted away, shoulders tightening slightly. “They were custom made. Years ago. An older woman in the village. She understood what I needed without asking too many questions. She was the only one that got it right.”
Sakura swallowed. “And…?”
“She passed away,” Kakashi said quietly. “ After Pain’s attack.”
The words settled into the space between them.
Tenten, who had been silent until now, exhaled and rubbed her palms together. “Okay,” she said. “Then we figure out how to make the one you have bigger.”
Kakashi shook his head almost immediately. “I don’t really want to,” he admitted. “I’ll need it after the baby is born. I don’t want to ruin them.”
Silence stretched.
Then Tenten snorted softly and leaned back against the bench. “No wonder you hate shopping.”
Kakashi huffed, the sound tired but amused. He nodded once. “Yeah.”
Sakura looked at him, really looked at him. The Hokage. The war hero. The man who had just admitted he was clinging to a single piece of clothing because it made the world bearable.
Then Tenten stood.
With purpose.
“I don’t care how many tailors we have to try,” she declared. “I don’t care how many fabric swatches I have to inspect or how many quarrels I have to sit through to explain what you need.”
Her voice rose, passionate and absolutely sincere.
“We will have these shirts made. Perfectly. Exactly how you want them. Because Gai-sensei gave me a mission. And I will complete it.”
She pointed dramatically at Kakashi’s bump. “My little niece or nephew and you will be comfortable, sensei. That’s a youthful promise! ”
Kakashi stared at her, startled.
Then, slowly, his eyes crinkled over the mask.
It was the smile.
The real one.
The one that only came when he let his guard slip, when something managed to reach past the walls.
“ You spend too much time with Lee,” Sakura laughed.
Kakashi snorted.
“Let’s start here,” she added, brushing off her skirt as she stood. “Maybe they offer custom services. I’ll ask at the counter.”
She gave them both a quick smile and turned, her sandals whispering softly over the floor as she made her way toward the front desk, her pace brisk but not rushed.
Tenten watched her go, then turned back to Kakashi with a bright grin. “ Now, what about pants Hokage-sama?”
“…I think I don’t like waistbands.”
Tenten tilted her head, curious. “Even the ones that sit under the bump? Or the ones with those elastic support panels?”
He rubbed slow circles over his stomach, thoughtful. “My uniform has some,” he admitted. “That’s fine. It’s structured. Controlled. But when I’m home…”
He trailed off for a second, eyes dropping to his hand.
“I don’t want them. I don’t like pressure near them. It feels… wrong. Like I’m crowding them.”
The young kuniochi blinked then smiled bright again.
That was progress. Real, actual progress.
She leaned in slightly, her grin widening. “So Kurenai-sensei, without even knowing, gave you the perfect thing months ago already.”
Kakashi nodded, rubbing the curve of his belly again. “Yeah. I like them. They don’t press anywhere.”
He said it so simply, but the relief behind the words was obvious. Like something that had been grating against him for weeks had finally been named.
“Well,” Tenten said, pushing up onto her feet again, cheerful now, “we’ll stop trying to get you into pants then. The overalls are the answer.”
She clapped her hands together. “They’re light enough for summer, and we can roll the pant legs if needed. You’ll be comfortable and mobile. Plus they lasted her whole pregnancy, and she got huge too”
“Too?” Kakashi repeated, voice dry and flat. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Tenten, grinning, sitting again beside him with absolutely no shame. “It means that you are well on your way aswell,” she said brightly. “At least Kurenai’s size, if not rounder.”
Kakashi groaned softly, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling as if praying for strength.
But even then, he didn’t look annoyed.
Just tired and a little embarrassed.
“So,” she said, stretching her legs out in front of her where she sat. “What color do you want your second pair of overalls to be?”she asked, already eyeing the shelf where the same model was hanging just a few feet away.
Kakashi blinked at her.
Then shrugged, one hand still resting idly on the swell of his belly. “Doesn’t matter.”
That was all she needed.
Permission granted.
Tenten practically beamed as she hopped to her feet and grabbed one of the neatly folded overalls from the stack nearby. It was a rich and familiar green, deep and vibrant, nearly identical to the shade of Gai’s iconic jumpsuit.
She turned and held it up proudly.
Kakashi stared at the garment, then raised a flat, unimpressed eyebrow in her direction.
The expression screamed really?
Tenten didn’t even flinch.
“Matching outfits with Gai-sensei,” she said sweetly, placing the overalls beside him like they were a prized trophy. “Can you imagine how happy he’s going to be?”
Kakashi sighed, long and slow. He didn’t say no. Didn’t protest.
He just gave her that withering look he reserved for especially persistent students and particularly bad mission assignments.
And still, he said nothing.
Tenten grinned wider.
Victory.
Sakura reappeared moments later, looking pleased. She spotted the green overalls in Tenten’s hands and her smile widened.
“Well,” she said, hands on her hips, “that’ll make Gai-sensei’s entire month.”
Trailing behind her was a tall woman, maybe in her late fifties, dressed in a clean linen tunic with her long greying hair braided neatly down her back. She held a notepad and pen at the ready, a pair of slim glasses perched on her nose. There was an air of professionalism about her, precise and confident, but when her eyes landed on Kakashi, she froze mid-step.
Her face flushed. Deeply.
Then she bowed, hands clasped in front of her. “Hokage-sama,” she said, voice a little breathless. “What an honor.”
Kakashi blinked, caught off guard.
It took him a few seconds to place her.
Her hair had been shorter the last time. She’d worn darker clothes then, black, fitted, always with chalk on her fingers.
But the memory clicked.
She had been Gai’s seamstress. The seamstress.
The one who had stitched every single one of his jumpsuits over the years. The woman who once told Kakashi, very seriously, that certain fabrics couldn’t survive the sheer force of Gai’s enthusiasm.
Apparently, she had opened her own business now.
Kakashi nodded politely, uncertain of what to say.
The woman straightened and smiled warmly. “Please hold on, Hokage-sama,” she said. “I just remembered, Gai-sama came into the shop a few days ago.”
At that, Kakashi tilted his head, mildly curious. Tenten perked up, and Sakura glanced between them.
The seamstress continued, flipping through the pages of her notebook. “He placed a custom order. He was extremely specific about what he wanted. The material, the stretch and where the seams should fall was very detailed. The consultation took twice as long as usual.” She smiled to herself, fond and amused. “But he’s one of my best customers, so I made it a priority. It’s ready.”
She looked back to Kakashi. “Since you’re here, perhaps you could bring it home to him? It would save us the delivery.”
Kakashi nodded automatically, not thinking much of it.
Tenten grinned, nudging him. “Sounds like Gai-sensei, alright. Bet he’s got another ‘youthful look’ planned.”
Sakura chuckled. “Or maybe he’s updating the jumpsuit. One that screams ‘doting parent,’ maybe.”
Kakashi didn’t say anything. Just listened, one hand resting gently over the curve of his stomach again, thumb stroking absent circles over the fabric.
He had no idea what Gai had ordered.
It took a few minutes before the seamstress returned.
When she did, she was carrying a flat, neatly tied box in both hands. Her expression was warm, almost knowing, as she walked back toward them.
“This,” she said gently, “is Gai-sama’s order. It is quite different from his usual request.”
She held it out.
Kakashi took it without question, his hands closing around the smooth cardboard, but he made no move to open it.
Tenten, however, gasped like she’d just solved a puzzle. “Wait—” She turned toward him, practically bouncing. “Kakashi-sensei. Open it!”
He looked up at her, baffled.
“Go on!” she said, her voice full of that radiant, irrepressible enthusiasm. “I bet it’s not a green jumpsuit in there!”
The seamstress smiled behind them. “It’s black,” she confirmed softly. “A single garment.”
Kakashi stared at the box.
Then, slowly, he loosened the tie.
The lid lifted with a soft whisper of cardboard, and the moment he saw what was inside, something in him stopped.
Nestled carefully in the tissue paper was a sleeveless, high-collared undershirt. Familiar. Seamless. Soft. Cut from the exact fabric he favored, matte and breathable, with just enough stretch to sit snug without squeezing. The mask was integrated, just as he always wore it.
But this one was different.
It was bigger.
Cut to his frame now, to the one carrying their child, not the one that existed before.
And the realization hit him all at once.
Gai had noticed.
Had known. Without being told. Without complaint. Without fanfare.
He had watched, quietly, as Kakashi struggled in silence. As the fit became tighter. As his movements grew more careful. As the undershirt, his last piece of comfort, his second skin, stopped working.
And instead of simply pointing it out, Gai had done something about it.
He had come here, alone. Sat through a long consultation. Gotten everything right. Down to the seams. Down to the soft curve where fabric would rest gently beneath the bump, not press.
A garment that Kakashi hadn’t asked for.
But one he desperately needed.
Kakashi's fingers curled into the edge of the box, and he ducked his head low, swallowing hard.
His throat burned.
His chest tightened.
And damn his hormones, because his eyes stung behind his lashes and he had to blink rapidly to keep the tears where they belonged.
Sakura’s expression softened instantly. She took a quiet breath, but didn’t speak.
Tenten only smiled, bright and proud, her voice soft now. “He’s the best, isn’t he?”
Kakashi nodded.
Barely.
He didn’t trust himself to speak.
He just reached into the box, brushing his fingertips gently over the fabric like it might vanish if he touched it too fast. And for the first time in weeks, the weight in his shoulders eased just a little.
The discomfort, the irritability, the strange wrongness of everything pressing too tight or feeling off… It wasn’t gone yet.
But this?
This was the beginning of relief.
A quiet promise stitched in black thread.
That he was seen.
That he was known.
And that he would be cared for, even when he didn’t ask.
Tenten’s grin widened as she leaned toward him, mischief and warmth dancing in her eyes.
“Well?” she said brightly. “Go on, try it on! I need to see if Gai-sensei got it right.”
Her voice was full of playful teasing, but there was something else beneath it, too, something gentler. She was giving him a way out. A distraction. An escape route from the flood of emotion tightening his throat and clinging to his ribs. Kakashi didn’t say anything, didn’t look up right away, but his fingers curled more securely around the shirt in his lap.
Sakura was already stepping in. She reached for him, tugging lightly at his forearm. “Come on, sensei,” she said, smiling. “Up you go.”
Kakashi allowed her to pull him to his feet without protest, too preoccupied with keeping his expression in check to even mutter a complaint. He clutched the soft black fabric against his chest like a lifeline.
Tenten took full advantage of his distracted state and shoved the green overalls into his free arm with a smirk. “Wear this with it. Full outfit. I need the full effect.”
Kakashi gave her a long, tired stare.
But he didn’t resist.
He disappeared into the changing room once more, curtain whispering shut behind him.
The girls waited, Tenten bouncing slightly on her heels with anticipation, Sakura folding her arms, her expression softer now, touched with fondness.
When Kakashi finally stepped out, it was quiet for a moment.
He looked…
Good.
The new undershirt fit like a second skin. It looked soft, sleek, and perfectly shaped to his current frame. The fabric hugged his shoulders and upper torso, then relaxed gently around the swell of his bump without constriction. The high collar rested comfortably against his neck, and the integrated mask settled securely over the lower half of his face in a way that looked natural, seamless. Familiar.
The green overalls were light and easy on him. The deep color accentuated beautifully by the black shirt, and the open sides of the garment let the soft curve of the bump peek through without clinging too tight. He looked like himself again, but softer.
He didn’t fidget. He didn’t pull at the fabric. He simply stood there, one hand resting lightly over his belly, the other relaxed at his side.
Comfortable.
The seamstress smiled with professional satisfaction as she walked a slow circle around him, eyes scanning the fit, the drape, the seams. “Perfect,” she murmured. “Absolutely perfect.”
Kakashi turned his head slightly toward her, his voice quiet beneath the mask. “Thank you,” he said.
And it was sincere.
Tenten, meanwhile, had stars in her eyes.
“He’s going to die,” she said gleefully, clapping her hands together. “He’s going to see you in this and just combust. Gai-sensei is not going to survive this level of coordination and cuteness.”
Kakashi gave her a look of tired resignation, but his fingers twitched lightly where they rested on his belly, betraying the tiny spark of amusement he wouldn’t voice aloud.
Sakura watched it all, warmth blooming in her chest.
She hadn’t expected this day to go like this. She’d thought it would be a battle, Kakashi being dragged reluctantly from one store to another, half-cooperating, half-escaping. But instead, they’d found this quiet little victory. This small, meaningful moment of softness, of real comfort.
And looking at him now, glowing in a way that had nothing to do with pregnancy and everything to do with being seen, she felt a wave of affection swell so strong she nearly teared up.
This was the man who had once stood at the head of a war.
Now standing in front of them in overalls and a soft black shirt, wearing Gai’s love like a second skin.
And somehow, this felt like a greater triumph than any battlefield.
They made it back just in time for lunch.
The front door creaked open, and Kakashi stepped into the house with Tenten and Sakura right behind him, arms full of folded bags and receipts. The scent of miso broth and something vaguely overcooked hit them immediately.
Inside, the house was chaos.
Gai had returned for lunch before heading back to the academy to help oversee the genin exams, and the kitchen was full of movement and questionable decisions. Naruto was somehow manning a cutting board, hacking away at a daikon with the energy of someone trying to win a fight, while Gai stood beside him, loudly objecting.
“That’s not the youthful way to cut root vegetables, Naruto!” Gai insisted, voice pitched with horror. “You’re attacking it like a wild boar!”
“It’s working, isn’t it?” Naruto grinned, barely avoiding his fingers. “Look! Same shape!”
“No! It's not youthful! The angles are all wrong!”
Pakkun was observing from the corner with the expression of someone enduring great tragedy. A long peel of carrot clung to the top of his head like a sad vegetable crown, probably fell off the counter in some unnoticed disaster.
“Why am I here,” he muttered.
The noise, the movement and the mess all came to a screeching halt the moment Kakashi stepped inside.
Gai, who had been halfway through dramatically demonstrating the correct cutting technique, turned toward the door—
—and froze solid.
The knife slipped from his hand and clattered onto the counter, bouncing off the edge and landing dangerously close to Pakkun’s paw.
“Hey!” Pakkun yelped, leaping back in pure indignation. The carrot peel flopped dramatically to the floor.
Naruto, oblivious to the near-miss and grinning like a lunatic, looked up. “Whoa, sensei. You look weird!”
Kakashi gave him a flat, unimpressed stare.
“…But comfy!” Naruto added quickly, thumbs up. “Weird but comfy!”
Kakashi sighed, tugging self-consciously at the strap of his green overalls. His other hand hovered near his belly as he shifted his weight, glancing toward the kitchen.
Gai was still staring.
Utterly, completely speechless.
“What?” Kakashi asked, voice softer now, a flicker of uncertainty creeping in as he glanced down at himself.
He looked… adorably unsure. The soft black undershirt clung neatly across his frame, collar snug at his neck. The green overalls sat comfortably on his body, rolled slightly at the ankle, fitted to the gentle swell of the belly gai just loved so much in a way that was clearly intentional.
He looked good.
But Gai looked like he had just been hit in the chest with a kunai made of pure emotion.
Sakura chuckled, stepping past him with a hand on her hip. “Give him a minute,” she told Kakashi with a smirk. “He’s just falling in love all over again.”
Tenten snorted, “At this rate we’re going to have to catch him before he swoons.”
Both girls broke into laughter as they looked between their flustered senseis, utterly delighted by the matching outfits echoing each other in color and comfort. The contrast between them had never looked more ridiculous. Or more right.
Even Naruto looked between them, concern flickering on his face. “ Is Bushier Brow-sensei okay?”
Still smiling, Tenten trotted forward, slipping past Kakashi and moving straight to her sensei, who remained frozen in place, hand suspended mid-air as if reaching for a thought he couldn’t quite grasp.
“Do you like the color?” she asked innocently, grin wide.
“…Yosh,” Gai breathed.
It came out so softly. So stunned. Like the breath had been knocked out of him.
Kakashi turned bright red.
The kind of red that started at the tips of his ears and worked its way down his neck in a visible flush.
He made a vague noise of protest, something like a scoff, but it caught halfway in his throat.
Tenten squealed.
Pakkun muttered, “You’re all unbearable.”
Sakura couldn’t stop smiling.
And Gai…
Gai finally moved, hopping forward slowly until he was right in front of his husband, eyes still locked on the soft fabric stretching gently over Kakashi’s bump.
“You look… radiant,” he said, utterly sincere.
“Don’t say radiant,” Kakashi groaned, covering his face with one hand. “That’s worse.”
But his voice was soft.
And he didn’t move away.
Not when Gai reached out and gently adjusted the strap on his shoulder. Not when he leaned down to press a kiss just above the bump, whispering something that only Kakashi could hear.
And whatever he said made Kakashi’s blush deepen even more.
Sakura grinned at Tenten and whispered, “I’m giving it twenty minutes before they start matching socks, too.”
“Ten,” Tenten whispered back. “Max.”
It happened faster than Kakashi could prepare for.
One moment Gai was gazing at him with that open, unfiltered adoration that still somehow managed to catch Kakashi off guard, even after years of marriage.
The next, with a smooth flick of his wrist, Gai reached up and lowered Kakashi’s mask.
Not just tugged it down a bit.
Lowered it completely.
Kakashi’s eyes widened. “Gai—!”
But Gai was already stepping in, gently tilting Kakashi’s face toward him, careful to keep his broad shoulders angled just enough to block the view from Naruto, the girls, and the very scandalized dog in the corner.
And then he kissed him.
Really kissed him.
It wasn’t a chaste brush of lips. It was full and warm and passionate, unmistakably affectionate. The kind of kiss that came from years of knowing every fault and every strength and loving through them all. The kind of kiss that said you’re home.
Kakashi froze for the first half-second.
Then melted.
His hands curled into Gai’s sleeves, half for balance and half because the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them, the soft breath between them, the slow warmth blooming in his chest—
Until the girls cooed.
“Awwwwwwww,” Sakura and Tenten said in unison, hands over their hearts.
Kakashi flinched like he’d been caught in the middle of a crime.
He shoved at Gai’s chest with a mortified huff, trying to turn away, his ears flaming red. “Gai!” he hissed. “Not in front of the kids!”
Naruto made an absolutely ghastly noise from the kitchen. “Ewwww! What are you doing?! Sensei, my lunch! My eyeballs!”
Tenten was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.
Sakura wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “That’s going in the memory book.”
Gai only smiled, bright and utterly unfazed, as he gently readjusted Kakashi’s mask, sliding it back into place with care, fingers brushing against his cheek just a moment longer than necessary.
“You were glowing,” he said simply, beaming. “I had to honor the moment.”
Kakashi mumbled something inaudible into his mask and stared intently at the floor, but his hand drifted back to rest on his bump, as if instinctively checking in.
Their little one gave a spirited kick in response, wriggling between them where their bodies had briefly pressed together.
Gai’s eyes sparkled. “Ah! They approve!”
Kakashi sighed.
Long-suffering. Embarrassed.
But he didn’t step away.
No, he leaned in.