Forbidden...the Professor

Forbidden...the Professor
---

Gaara stood outside Sakura’s room, his gaze troubled. Slumped against the wall beside him was Tomokazu, who was fidgeting in agitation. He seemed to be warring within himself on whether or not to barge in their hime’s room and demand to know what had happened.

Sasori merely continued to carve the face of the puppet he was working on, his own gaze nonchalant. But they knew that the intense way he stared down at his work was merely a sign that he was trying not to worry.

Kimimaro fidgeted, holding the tray of now long-cold tea in his hands. Atsuko stood beside him, face contorted in a pout.

“Ne…why can’t I go see okaasan?”

“Go away.” Tomokazu snapped, but Gaara merely look down at the boy. Beside him, Kimimaro flinched a bit at Tomokazu’s tone.

“She is sick, Atsuko.”

“Oh.” Atsuko swallowed. “Then…when will she get better?”

“I don’t know.”

“Mmm.” Atsuko nodded, his gaze sad before he grabbed Kimimaro’s arm, almost making the older boy drop his tray. “Come on Kimimaro-senpai. Let’s go and make Okaasan some soup. That always helps when I’m sick.”

“Um, alright.” Kimimaro murmured softly, allowing himself to be led down the hall and out of sight.

The area became tense and silent once again.

“Dammit…” Tomokazu cursed. “Why won’t she tell us anything?” It was a frustrated, pained yell, one that echoed in the expansive hall.

“Don’t raise your voice.” Sasori reprimanded. “Sakura-hime is trying to sleep.”

“What the hell is wrong with her, Sasori?”

“I don’t know.” Sasori answered back tersely. Because in truth, he didn’t know at all. He only had a hunch…but after seeing Sakura pale and the glass drop from her hands…

---
<flashback>

The sound of breaking glass echoed. The entire room went silent—the music had been turned down earlier.

Sasori was the first beside her—he had been close anyway. “Hime—Sakura, are you alright?” He barely managed to remember his cover in his worry. She was so pale…and her eyes were wide. He had never seen her look this frightened or shocked. Not even when they’d heard that her master might still be alive.

His first instinct was to kill the blonde boy. He had said something to her. He had said the name Namikaze Minato…and that was what had done this. He deserved to die for getting his hime in such a distressed state.

The blonde seemed to notice—as did the others around them—and stuttered out what could have been his attempt at an apology. “H-hey Sakura-san are you…are you alright? Is something wrong?”

“No.” Her voice was soft and feathery, and Sasori saw the slight trembling of her fingers, fingers that had been loosely wrapped around the glass stem of her glass. “I…I’m not feeling well.”

“Do you need to lie down?” Itachi asked calmly. “We have rooms upstairs where there is no noise. You could rest.”

Sasori’s eyes narrowed as he stiffened beside his hime. Did this man think he was going to get Sakura-hime alone? Or that Sasori would LET them be alone, especially with his hime in such a state? He resisted the urge to bare his fangs at him.

“I think I may have caught what Kimimaro-kun has.” Her voice was light, regaining some of its strenght. She tried to smile but failed. It came out as a slight grimace. “I think it would be best if I went home.”

The males around her seemed to wilt at this concession, save for Sasori, who was relieved—but even more worried now about his hime’s condition. He caught her arm.

“Come on then, let’s get you home.”

She gave a deft nod, before looking to Itachi and the others. “Thank you for inviting me. It was a lovely party. I…had fun…” And then she was being led to the door, with Sasori sending glares at anyone who came near them.

The front door shut with a resounding slam.

<end flashback>
---

The sound of a phone ringing jostled Sasori from his thoughts. It was the phone in his hime’s room. He stood, ready to go and answer it so she could sleep, but the ringing abruptly stopped, and he could hear a soft murmuring voice from the other side of the door.

His hime was awake.

He couldn’t hear any words that were spoken, but contented himself with relaxing back against the wall.

“What do you think…happened? You said that it was after the mention of the name Namikaze Minato.” Tomokazu mused aloud. “Who could that be?”

“I don’t know.” Sasori glared down at the wooden puppet in his hands. “But I know someone who might.”

It was time to visit his old grandmother, it seemed.

And that was when the door to Sakura’s room opened and she walked into the hallway. She didn’t spare them a glance, merely continued down the stairs.

“Hime!” All three pushed off of the wall and followed after her, though Tomokazu was the one who had spoken.

She stopped for a moment, turning to look at them. Her gaze was cold and serious once more—collected, calm, and sure. The mask that their hime had worn for years now. It was a welcomed contrast to the scared, frightened, and pale woman that Sasori had driven home the night before.

“That was a call from Kimimaro-kun’s school. His teacher wanted to have a meeting with me.”

“I’ll come—” Tomokazu began, but was cut off with a small shake of the head.

“I’m going to walk. I have some business to attend to afterwards. I will be home late tonight.”

“Hime, you cannot leave without someone to protect you!” Tomokazu continued, gaze worried and hurt, “Especially with the rumors about Him going around—”

“I was a vampire long before any of you were born.” Sakura’s voice was cold, like ice. “Do not reprimand me, Tomokazu. I am not a child.” And then she was walking away again. “If you three try and follow me, you will be punished.”

Gaara, Tomokazu, and Sasori stared after her retreating back, all collectively shocked at what they’d just heard.

“Do you think we should—”

“No.” Sasori cut Tomokazu off. “Hime-sama does not want us to follow her. We must trust her. Besides…she ordered you to remain here.” ‘And we cannot disobey a master’s orders’ he thought bitterly.

Gaara merely turned and walked into Sakura’s room without saying anything.

Hesitantly, the other two followed.
---

Hatake Kakashi, homeroom teacher and history professor, couldn’t help but give a small giggle as he idly flipped another page in his book. Ah, these stories never got old…even if this was an old edition of Icha Icha, it didn’t matter at all.

It was still entertaining.

He merely leaned back in his chair and reached absently for the plate of rice balls that he’d swiped from Kurenai earlier in the teacher’s lounge.

There was a soft knock on the door and he sighed. What was it? And what reason could they have important enough to interrupt his reading? He stuffed the precious orange volume into his back pocket and stood, heading to the door, rice ball still in hand.

“Come in.” he called, even as he neared. If it was a student, they wouldn’t open the door even after his words. He’d learned they were too shy around him—the female ones, at least, always giggling and blushing when he was near—and they would only come inside if he opened the door himself.

He didn’t get halfway across the room before the door opened and he blinked in surprise.

She was definitely not his student.

He would have remembered her long before this if that were the case. He swallowed, his eyes trailing down her slim figure.

Yeah…definitely not a student.

She wore slim, deep gray slacks and a chic earl-gray sweater that hung off her shoulders. Her hair was a pale rosette, and it flowed loose around her, free of any confining hair-ties. A pair of stylish glasses graced her eyes—brilliant emerald eyes that glittered appreciatively as they did their own once-over of his slim, muscular form—and she held a clutch-purse in her perfectly manicured hands. Or were they manicured at all? She seemed to be a natural beauty, as if perfection came easily to her. No enhancements seemed to be needed.

“Hatake-san?”

“Er um…yo.” Kakashi managed lamely. He inwardly gave a groan of despair. Why did he have to act so uncool in front of such a beautiful woman? This was definitely not like him at all. “What can I help you with?” there, his voice was the same nonchalant, easy-going voice as always. At least he didn’t stutter.

“You called me for a meeting here, Hatake-san.”

Kakashi blinked. Wait…a meeting? He wasn’t quite sure what this was about. He KNEW he would have remembered her if he’d met her before. “Excuse me?”

“I’m Haruno Sakura, Kimimaro-kun’s guardian. You said you wanted to meet with me to discuss something?” She finished smoothly, giving him a charming—and knowing—smile.

“Oh.” Kakashi nodded. “Of course. Please sit.” He motioned to a chair beside his desk. She sat gracefully, hands placed in her lap, still holding her purse. He had thought that Kimimaro’s guardian would have been…older. A relative perhaps, like a grandmother or great aunt.

Not a 19 year-old-girl…

Woman…she was definitely a woman…

Kakashi swallowed, before giving a sigh and leaned back in his own chair behind the desk. A desk that was separating them quite nicely, if he did say so himself.

“Are you Kimimaro-kun’s homeroom teacher then?” Sakura asked politely.

“Uh, yeah. I’m Hatake Kakashi.” Duh, she already knew his name… ‘smooth, Kakashi…real smooth…’

Sakura nodded. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Hatake-san. What is it you wanted to speak to me about?”

“It’s about Kimimaro.”

“Oh?” Sakura blinked. “Has he done something wrong?”

“No.” Kakashi shook his head. “He’s a brilliant young boy, and he’s doing very well in his studies. But…”

“What is it?”

“He’s having a bit of a bullying problem, I think.”

“Bullies?” Sakura’s brow furrowed in worry, and her lower lip stuck out a bit as she bit down on it. He tried to pry his eyes away and look directly into her own emerald orbs.

“He’s not very active, and well…he’s picked on a lot. I’m just worried things will escalate. As you are his only living guardian or relative…I thought you should be the one to know.”

“I see.” Sakura gave a curt nod. “Thank you.”

“I’ve tried to keep him from harm, but I can’t be everywhere.”

“I understand.” Sakura gave a charming smile. “You have a responsibility to your other students.”

“I was thinking, if he had some friends that would stand up for him…you see, another student of mine, Uzumaki Naruto…when he was young he was bullied a lot too.”

Sakura froze at the mention of Uzumaki Naruto. If Kakashi noticed her reaction he didn’t say anything.

“Why…was he bullied …?” Surely Minato wouldn’t allow his son to be treated poorly.

“I can’t get into details, of course, that’s confidential. But he had a rough time, until he made some friends and learned to stick up for himself. I think that’s all Kimimaro needs.”

“I see.” Sakura gave another nod. “Then…could you perhaps give me Uzumaki Naruto’s address?”

“Hm?”

“I think…he would be the best one to start with, ne?” Sakura smiled brightly. “If Naruto-kun has dealt with bullying, then he would know what is it like. Also…his parents would understand. Perhaps I could speak with them and get some advice. Would that be alright?”

“I’m not really supposed to…” Kakashi continued.

Sakura’s eyes narrowed slightly, because for some reason, her charm hadn’t worked. It was an inherent vampire trait, and any normal human would have already given her the address. She allowed herself to look him over once more—and stiffened promptly.

‘So he isn’t dead, like the rumors say…how…unfortunate…’

“I suppose then,” Sakura sighed softly as she stood. “That I’ll just have to get the information from the principal.”

“Er, that won’t be necessary.” Kakashi coughed, “I understand you’re trying your hardest to protect Kimimaro so…here.” He scribbled something down on a slip of paper and handed it to her, careful to make sure their fingers didn’t touch. “His parents will be home, so there really isn’t anything to worry about, is there?”

“No, not at all.” Sakura nodded. “Thank you.” And she began walking towards the door.

“By the way…” Sakura turned to look back at him with a small smile. “That scar on your face…it must have a very interesting story behind it, ne?”

Kakashi stiffened slightly, before he relaxed, giving a carefree smile. “Oh, not at all. Just a childhood injury. You know how reckless kids are.”

“Of course.” Sakura nodded, before opening the door and walking out into the hallway. As she did so, she gave a small, secretive smile.

Who would have known…that the legendary vampire hunter the Copy Cat would be a high-school teacher?

She wondered…why didn’t he recognize her at all?

She supposed it was the same reason she hadn’t recognized him either. It had been so long ago. Memories such as that usually faded. Besides, seeing him dressed in a simple shirt and slacks compared to elegant suit she remembered could have distorted her memory. But still…it seemed rather strange. Besides, how had a human vampire hunter survived this long?

And she rather thought she’d made a memorable impression on him at their first meeting.

He had been the one that had stabbed her through the chest and left her bleeding all over the church steps, after all.
---

Kakashi watched the door close, and he let out a small sigh of relief. She hadn’t known anything…she was just a curious young woman it seemed. But a small nagging in the back of his mind told him to be wary.

She was familiar, somehow…but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He merely gave a sigh and took a bite of the rice ball in his hand.
---

It was hours later when Sakura found herself standing in front of the Uzumaki residence. She swallowed—hard—and berated herself for that weakness. Why was she so nervous? She had thought she’d gotten rid of that particular emotion long ago.

Nervousness and fear…such things had been extinguished when she’d become a slave to a monster. What was there to fear when you were living a nightmare worse than death?

But for some reason she felt that familiar tingling in her stomach—not quite nauseating but almost to that point—and she didn’t know if she should revel in the fact that she could still feel such a human-like emotion or turn around and leave and never look back.

Most of all…she couldn’t help the small ache that filled her chest as she stared up at the house. It wasn’t expansive—large enough, with more than enough room for three people.

How had he survived?

He was supposed to be dead.

But more so than that…another question echoed in her mind, causing her to cling tightly to her purse.

Why…?

Why, if he was alive, did he abandon her?

Why did he build a family and disappear forever?

She took a deep breath. These questions…she would make sure they were answered. There was no turning back now. She walked determinately up the steps and pressed a finger to the doorbell.

It seemed to echo forever in the house until the door finally opened, bathing the walkway in golden light, such a stark contrast to the darkness of the night.

“…S…Sakura-san…?”