Kakashi walked with his hands in his pockets, the ever-present orange book held loosely in one hand, his visible eye half-lidded with practiced boredom.

Naruto bounced along beside him, gesturing wildly at the shops and training grounds they passed. Sakura listened with polite interest, occasionally glancing at Sasuke, who walked with his usual stoic silence.

And then—

Kakashi's footsteps faltered.

Just for a fraction of a second, barely noticeable. But it was there.

His book snapped shut.

The motion was so sudden, so unlike his usual languid movements, that Naruto actually stopped mid-sentence and blinked at him.

A woman was walking toward them. She hadn't noticed them yet—her head was tilted down, reading a scroll as she walked, her dark hair falling over her face. She moved with the easy grace of someone who'd spent their life training, but there was a softness to her features, a warmth that seemed to radiate off her even from a distance.

Kakashi made a sound. It was small, barely audible, something between a cough and a squeak.

The woman looked up from her scroll.

She smiled.

And Kakashi Hatake, the Copy Ninja, the man who'd faced down rogue shinobi and S-rank threats without flinching, took a small, involuntary step backward. His hands were shaking. Ever so slightly. Just enough for his new students to see.