Title: Through the Looking Glass

Summary: They're a couple who can't say I love you. KakaSaku.

A/N: Should I call this fluff or a drabble?

This was done in fifteen minutes or so, so I hope you didn't expect much. Tell me your thoughts on it, if you want!

Sakura is not very good at hiding her emotions—never was, as any one of her friends would say. She'd never obtain ANBU status, not because she lacked the skill; no, she would never reach ANBU because she did not lack enough emotions. She is too transparent, her eyes too expressive, her voice too telling.

She will never be the best.

But she doesn't have to be. Her career revolves around this weakness, this imperfection where she shows too much, and so she gives and gives and heals until she is spent.

When they are together, she gives words, endless sound and information about her day, her patients, her friends, her village—her home.

And she's happy with it—even if she doesn't say so, her actions reveal everything.

When she is with him, when she is chatting animatedly, a hand will brush his elbow, or a foot will brush his leg. When she is excited she will reach out and tug at his sleeves, and when she at peace, she will lean on his shoulder. Sometimes, when she is feeling mischievous, she will sit in his lap and they will read his perverted book together.

She is happy. (He is sure of it.)

Kakashi is very good at hiding his emotions—sometimes, he thinks, he is a little too good. This is why he reaches ANBU so early, maybe a little too early. He's seen more death and grief than he wants to in two lifetimes, and he hopes he never has to see it again. (But he knows he will.)

He is one of the best. He knows it.

But he doesn't feel happy about it. His career revolved around killing, killing, and more killing—and to top it all off, they were always classified.

So he quits his solitary life in the dark to return to the light again.

Now his career involves caring and teaching and protecting his team at all costs. He will never leave them—because he knows people who do are worse than scum.

He does more than protect with her; he loves.

And he's content with that—even if he doesn't say so, she knows to look underneath the underneath.

When he's with her, he won't say it, but he is listening. He won't look at her, but he is watching. And he won't show it, but he cares.

He reaches out to save her from tripping and puts his book away when eating. He buys groceries when she is too busy at the hospital, and he washes the dishes when she is too tired after showering. Sometimes—in private—when he thinks she won't notice, he kisses the top of her head good night.

He is happy. (She is sure of it.)

They're a couple who can't say I love you.

She has said it enough for a lifetime, but those words meant nothing when unreciprocated. She has long since learned that actions speak louder than words.

He has never said it, the people passing before he realizes that they're gone. He is afraid of loving, but he knows he can't stop what he feels.

On Team 7 nights out, Naruto thinks that they're the most subtle, unromantic couple in the village.

Sai thinks they break all the rules in his books.

But both of them know that they're just Sakura and Kakashi and very much in love.

Even if they don't say it.