Disclaimer: I don't own anything Naruto.

Author's Note: Written for a contest on Quizilla - may look familiar.

Mismatched Bouquet

When she first came, they questioned her, but she merely answered, in a soft and hesitant voice, "I just want to watch."

The first day they were suspicious, not doing anything ultra special, or ever taking their eyes off of her.

The second day they did more pondering on her "motive" than training. After all, there were plenty of other teams to watch. Why them?

The third day they asked her name, and she answered. "Miitchi Aimori." After that they trained.

The fourth day, they asked her age, and she answered. "I'm twelve." After that, they asked if she was a ninja. She shook her head no.

The fifth day, they trained, and she watched.

Miitchi sat at the edge of the training area. Three of the genin before her scrambled and rushed about, each with their own amount of grace and skill, following their sensei's orders. And it was their sensei that Miitchi fixed her eyes on.

She had not said a single word to them other than her motive, her name, and her age. It wasn't that she trusted them, no. If they were with him then she trusted them with her life. She was just not a very talkative person. But, despite verbalism, or lack thereof, the thoughts running through her mind ran swift and often.

Yet, no matter what thought crossed her mind, it always came back to that day, that night, six years ago.

-

"HELP!"

It was the only word that six-year-old Aimori could get out before she was plunged back under the cruel and unforgiving current. She flailed her arm above water as much as she could as she did her best to resurface. Once her lungs were able to take a deep breath, the young girl screamed bloody murder.

The water pushed Aimori down once again, but this time didn't allow her the honor of air afterwards. She couldn't get back up. The water pushed her farther down under, until she hit the bottom.

Inside, even her innocent mind knew what was happening. She was drowning in the river. No one was going to save her. She was going to die.

The edges of her consciousness were growing black, and her lungs were on fire. She couldn't take much more of this. In one last ditch effort, her body protesting death, she kicked her legs and reached her arms toward the direction of the bright noon sun.

Miitchi Aimori blacked out before she surfaced.

-

It was silver.

Heaven wasn't some great, white light that blinded you once you opened your eyes. It wasn't made out of clouds, or had a gigantic golden gate. The media lied a lot. It was actually a soft silver sheen. It almost looked fluffy. I think...I'll see if it is... Aimori thought, noting that she couldn't speak her thoughts. It felt kind of like something was blocking her mouth...odd...

Reaching out, Aimori was surprised to find two things. First, that the silver object was actually extraordinarily soft (even if it was moist). And second, she found that she didn't have to grope too far away. Actually, it was hardly a centimeter from her face. And this is where she became suspicious. Only when the silver backdrop of her vision was lifted did she realize what happened.

She had just had mouth-to-mouth. She was alive.

As soon as realization dawned upon her, Aimori began coughing and sputtering, attempting to get the water out of her lungs. After a few moments, she plunked herself on the now soaked ground and began to breathe deeply, thankful for the ability to do so.

"So, I take it you're alive then?"

Aimori looked up instantly, forgetting that the source-of-the-fuzzy-silver was still there. Apparently, it was his hair, which was currently sloppily flopping into his face. It really didn't matter, seeing as the only visible part of his face was his right eye, which seemed oddly bored and relieved at the same time. When the two of them made eye contact, his eye curved upward into a happy expression. "Yo," he said simply.

"Your hair..." Aimori rasped. The man looked at her curiously, not expecting her first words would concern his hair. Taking a few more deep breaths, Aimori smirked slightly. "...It looks like a chinchilla."

Even with his mask, Aimori could see the man deadpan.

-

It was evening now. Chinchilla Man said that the river had carried the girl miles away from the village, and since he was just getting back from a mission, he was too tired to just carry her there. And so, they walked.

When night fell, Aimori didn't say a word, she just kept walking after the man, though her pace was hindered and slowed. Continuously, she stumbled and fell, scraping her knees and elbows. Yet, wordlessly, she followed her savior wearily through the woods. Finally, he stopped, and Aimori, who had her eyes closed, wishing she was asleep, ran straight into him, falling on her bottom. "We can camp here for the night," the man said and Aimori looked up at him.

"We don't have any camping gear," she said flatly, obviously beginning to doubt him.

"Ninjas need two things when their camping: fire and their own senses," he said. "Luckily for you, I have more than that." Within five minutes, the man had a fire up and a sleeping bag rolled out. "You take the sleeping bag, and I'll keep watch," he said, gesturing to a tree branch that overhung their campsite. Though it wasn't much more than just a fire, it was a kind gesture. Aimori could of had it off much worse. Before she could say a word, he had disappeared and reappeared on the tree branch.

It was only when she laid in the sleeping bag next to the flame did Aimori finally realize exactly how cold and tired she was. Instantly, her eyelids grew heavy, and she yawned. But, she couldn't go to sleep. Not yet. "Hey," she said, trying to get his attention, to which she received a curious, "Hm?" in reply. "What's your name?"

There was a soft chuckle, but for the unfocused and extremely sleepy Aimori, it seemed disconnected from the world she saw from her half lidded eyes. "Hatake Kakashi," he told her.

Aimori smiled and closed her eyes, curling herself into a more comfortable sleeping position. "That's a nice name," she said to him airily, "My name's Ai." With that, she fell asleep.

The next morning, Ai found herself in her own bed. She would have thought it was all a dream if it wasn't for her fever and a shuriken on her bed stand, four words written clearly in black:

For Ai
From Kakashi

-

The six day went much like the fifth. The team trained and Aimori watched them silently, lost in her own thoughts. This time, though, it was the leader that discreetly watched her.

The seventh day, their leader stayed back after his genin left, and Aimori stayed seated, watching as he sauntered over to her. Sitting cross-legged next to her, the man waited for the girl to speak. And, she did. "Found you," she said, smiling to herself. It took her six years, but she did it. She found the Chinchilla Man of her past.

"Long time no see," he said, his eye curving upward happily. "What're you up to, Ai?"

Ai grinned. She couldn't keep her thoughts to herself. Not this time. "Your hair...it still looks like a chinchilla!"

Kakashi sighed. "Why do you always say that?" He asked, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "It doesn't look anything like one of those things." Aimori laughed.

"The color! Chinchillas have fur that are the same color as your hair," she answered. Kakashi heaved a sigh. What an odd girl... He thought, though he couldn't help the smile tugging on his lips.

A comfortable silence fell upon the two, in which both felt slightly reminiscent of that night. That was, until Kakashi spoke once more. "What're you doing here, Aimori-chan?" He asked softly, not wanting to break the air of relaxation around them.

Aimori stood up, showing how, in actuality, she was rather short. Maybe the same height as Naruto, Kakashi pondered leisurely, Maybe. She towered above about a foot or two above Kakashi's sitting form. She was smiling serenely as she kneeled in front of him.

"Kakashi-sama," she said, "I fell asleep before I couldn't thank you. You saved my life. If it wasn't for you, my parents would have lost their only daughter. And so, I got these for you." Out of a backpack Kakashi didn't realize she was wearing, the young girl took out a bouquet of flowers.

"There's an amethyst, for admiration. And these are bell flowers and yellow lilies, to show my gratitude. Then I got a pansy, too, which mean that I'm thinking of you and I'll remember you. And this is a white periwinkle; it says 'I can't live without you', but I meant it in a 'If it wasn't for you I couldn't be alive'. And this is a..." Aimori trailed off and suddenly she blushed. Kakashi was staring at her intently, and she felt like he was staring straight through her. "Well, never mind. This must be boring, so here...please keep it."

Kakashi pointed to the remaining flower. "This is a zinnia, isn't it?" He asked. "I heard about them once. Ah...remembrance, right?" If it was at all possible, his gaze withered Aimori's confidence even more.

"Ah, yes. In the language of flowers, the zinnia says, 'thinking of you though you're far away,' and, 'I remember you daily'," she said, handing the bouquet to the older man.

Kakashi's eye curved into another smile as he took the bouquet. "Thanks, Ai-chan. I really appreciate it," he said, patting the girl on the head. Truth be told, not many people actually came back to thank him after successful missions and even deeds he did outside of his duty. When they did, it was refreshing to hear. Made it worth it more than usual.

Aimori blushed and looked down to the ground. "I should be going home now, I think dinner's done. I just wanted to thank you." With this being said, she didn't make a move to leave.

She was, Kakashi noticed, shifting from foot to foot, with her eyes locked on the grass and a fresh blush on her face. Kakashi raised his visible eyebrow at her odd actions. "Kakashi-sama," she said, her voice wavering a little. Surprising even Kakashi, the girl quickly planted a peck on his masked cheek. "Thank you again," she said before turning an odd shade of scarlet and giving a shy wave before running out of the training area.

Kakashi gave a chuckle before standing up, his mismatched bouquet in hand. "...It was nothing, Ai-chan," he said, before taking his own time home.