Chapter Text
Dripping water.
The smell of incense. Stress. A faint tinge of ozone. Tomato, rice, tuna, in the puffs of nearby breaths. Pre-teen sweat. Water. Chalk dust. Floral shampoo.
Blood.
He comes to vaguely bewildered, with no memory of his dreams beyond a flickering fire.
The surface beneath his back is hard and cold. The air is warm and impossibly heavy.
There is a familiar presence leaning over him.
“Sas-Sasuke?”
Why the fuck are the kids here? Confusion and foggy weight slows his mind, and it’s so hard to open his eyes.
“Sakura?”
“Don’t!” Sasuke snaps. “Eyes closed and shut up, Sensei!”
“Maa…” he breathes, and gets an actual growl in response.
Fine, fine…
Moments or minutes pass, and it becomes easier to think. And easier to breathe, for that matter.
It feels like a fresh drink when parched, poured straight into his aching bones. With it comes the realisation that he is also soaking wet, clothes sticking to him and water covering the surface beneath him. He cracks his right eye open. Sasuke is leaning over him, his hands hovering above Kakashi’s chest, chakra like a faint mirage shifting between them.
“You can stop.”
Sasuke jumps. His Sharingan red eyes flick from his own hands to Kakashi’s face.
With a shuddering breath the kid halts the chakra transfusion and sits back on his heels, shaking his hands out with jerky motions.
“Thank you.” Kakashi hesitantly sits up.
It hurts, the familiar tear of chakra exhaustion, but Sasuke’s work has made it significantly better. His uniform shirt clings to his back. The air feels strange on his bare face. Sasuke must have pulled the mask down. He tugs it up over his nose, steadied by the familiar pressure.
Sakura is watching from the doorway, knuckles white as she holds on to the wood. Her injured arm is in a sling, and she’s wearing a loose, pink t-shirt over dark shorts. “Sensei…”
“Your eye is bleeding,” Sasuke interrupts.
“Ah, right.” He lifts a hand to the uncovered Sharingan, keeping it closed. Caked and crusted blood is also sealing it shut, what must look like gruesome tears trailing down his cheek. There isn’t that much of it. “I think it’s fine.”
“How is that fine!?” Sasuke snaps.
“What happened?” Sakura says at almost the same time.
Kakashi crinkles his right eye into a smile. “Just trying something new.”
He rubs the crusted blood, unsealing his eyelashes with gentle tugs, and looks up. He is seated on his fluffy blue bathroom mat, now thin and squishy as it soaks up the water that covers the entire floor.
The mirror is gone, and the wall behind it. He can see into the kitchen, dim light of an overcast evening throwing the green cabinets into half-shade. The thin metal pipes in the wall have all been bent out of shape, and a few are steadily dripping. The whole bathroom has been sprayed with water.
“I didn’t know you’d learned to do transfusions,” he says to Sasuke while staring into the kitchen.
He doesn’t want to talk about the Mangekyo. Not yet. It hurts in a world-wrenching, sickening way that he has it (he has it, he has it, he has it). It worked. It’s an unbelievable success.
It’s fucking awful.
A yawning abyss of awareness lingers below his consciousness. A space that has always been there that he never noticed and now it would be so very easy to step in-
The mental turn as he pulls back from the gravitational pull of despair and power feels like the snap of a rubber band.
Whatever it feels like, whatever he now has confirmation he is, it’s something he can use. He wants to try again.
He just needs to practise.
Sasuke shrugs, wiping his hands on his t-shirt. The high collar hides the scar that must be on his throat.
“I’ve been taking some classes at the hospital. There was one yesterday… with the Sharingan it’s been a lot easier to figure it out.” The kid looks away, as if using the magic copy eye to copy something is anything to be ashamed of. His hair hangs limp around his face, weighed down with sweat and water. A drop falls on his shoulder, soaking into the blue fabric. “With what happened in Wave, I didn’t want to be that helpless again.”
“That’s… really impressive, Sasuke.” Kakashi uses the edge of the tub to get to his feet, then holds a hand out to the child who just gave of his own life energy to help him. “And thank you.”
Sasuke takes it, and lets Kakashi pull him up.
“I’ll tell you what I was doing later, I just… need to work it out. And you don’t need to be worried about me, ne?” He shuffles into the hallway. The soaked, fluffy dog slippers squelch under his feet. Every joint screams. On his way he reaches out and ruffles Sakura’s hair, soft pink strands standing on end rather than settling back down, now that the length is gone.
Sasuke huffs, disbelieving.
The water seems to have been mostly halted by the bathroom threshold, but entering the kitchen that doesn’t matter much. It has also flooded from the destroyed wall between the rooms, and a large puddle reflects grey light from the window. There is a little splash or red, where the setting sun is breaking through the clouds. Kakashi sighs.
“Maa… I guess I know what I’m doing tomorrow.” He turns back to face the genin, Kakashi just inside the dim kitchen and the kids under the warm electric light in the hallway. He looks at Sasuke, who sways on his feet. “Come on kid, let’s get you home.”
Sasuke shrugs off Kakashi’s attempt at placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. “No! You are going to the hospital.”
“You can’t be alone,” Sakura adds, unhelpfully, chin up in defiance.
“Now I think that’s a bit over-“
“SHUT UP Sensei!” Sakura is furious. “You almost died!”
“I’m fine?”
He looks from Sakura’s wide, green eyes to Sasuke’s pale face.
“You were passed out when we got here.” Sasuke has his arms crossed tightly, looking like he’s straining to stay on his feet. “Your vitals weren’t good.” He’s refusing to look directly at Kakashi.
“Sasuke figured out it’s chakra exhaustion,” Sakura adds. There are tears brimming in her eyes, alongside the angry flush on her cheeks.
The dents on the bent, dripping, broken pipes are a perfect match for the size of Sakura’s hands. The wall has been smashed open further to expose them enough to reach.
Shit.
It’s hard to breathe. Worse than the smoke. Everything is too close and too tight and too heavy.
Kakashi wipes a hand over his face. It snags on the mask. They’re children. His genin. His responsibility; not ordered, anymore, but by his decision. They don’t deserve this. He should be the one caring for them. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He tries to breathe.
A solid weight crashes into his side.
His eyes fly open in surprise.
Sakura, the pink in his view and her smell confirms.
He looks up and over, to Sasuke in the doorway. As Kakashi lifts one hand to go around Sakura’s back, holding her close with the soft cotton of her T-shirt warm under his cold fingers, he raises the other to Sasuke.
He expects nothing, but the feeling when the kid steps forward, into his reach, and leans his forehead against Kakashi’s chest is overwhelming.
“Close your damn eye, idiot,” Sasuke tells Kakashi’s shirt.
Sakura still sounds angry. “You’re not allowed to be this stupid, Sensei.”
“I didn’t plan to,” he chokes out.
He’s not sure how long they stand there, but the red splash in the sky and reflected on the floor fades away.
“How about this,” Kakashi says, finally relaxing his hold of the kids. They each step back, Sasuke crossing his arms. “I promise I’ll go to the hospital and book a time first thing tomorrow. And for now, we’ll have dinner. That’s why you’re here isn’t it?” His throat feels dry, and speaking is exhausting. But he needs to eat and so do they. It’s easier to be sensible when it’s not for himself. Naruto’s absence feels like a punch.
The genin glance at each other. Sakura frowns. Sasuke raises an eyebrow. Sakura shakes her head, then blinks. Sasuke makes a clipped “Hn”, and Sakura nods.
This is clearly some kind of tween-telepathy he is not fluent in.
Sasuke turns to him.
“Fine. We’ll cook. I’m staying over.”
“Okay,” Kakashi sighs.
Honestly, he’s grateful. Being alone with his brain seems like a bad idea. Still, maybe it’s the chakra transfusion, maybe it’s the near-death experience, maybe it’s the reality check of their frightened faces, but his head feels clearer than it has in… days. At least.
Sasuke goes to where there turns out to be a dropped bag of groceries by the front door, and orders Kakashi to sit down, pointing at the bed.
He sits gingerly, pulling the blanket around himself before the sticky feeling of still-soaked clothing stops him halfway through. He doesn’t have to keep the wet clothes. He’s got a wardrobe full of dry things. The wardrobe is… so far away though. He fights his own fatigue to get up, and toes off the slippers, leaving them sitting in their own sad little puddle.
Meanwhile Sakura starts looking around the kitchen, then in the bathroom, then starts poking around the washing machine and the drying rack above it, rummaging around in the dog leads and collars hanging on the wall.
She grumbles in frustration. “Sensei, where’s your mop?”
He pulls a fresh undershirt down over his head, feeling static crackle in his hair. “Ah? I don’t have one.”
“YOU DON’T HAVE ONE!?” Her head pokes around the corner, hair even more on end than it was just minutes ago. It’s been a while since he couldn’t help but imagine the children overlaid with their anime counterparts, but right now the red tick on her forehead is practically visible. “HOW DO YOU CLEAN YOUR FLOORS!?”
“With a broom?”
“DISGUSTING!”
Something comes flying at his head and he ducks. It clatters to the floor. An empty spray bottle of enzyme disinfectant.
“And a rag if there’s anything gross!” He raises his hands in the universal sign for peace. “Maa, Sakura, it’s really not so-“
“SHUT UP, SENSEI!”
“Sakura,” Sasuke’s voice comes from the kitchen.
“SHUT UP SASUKE!”
…She’s probably not really mad about the cleaning supplies.
“I’m using the towels,” Sakura mutters under her breath, and stomps into the bathroom.
Kakashi returns to the slow and painful task of getting into dry clothes, to the sound of the kitchen tap running and wet towels being wrung out into the bathtub. There is a gnawing like teeth in the back of his mind, guilt creeping back in. He’s so useless that he has actual children cleaning up his mess. (At the same time there’s a rising hopeful bubble in his chest as their presence lets him know they’re okay, even after everything that happened.)
He foregoes uniform blues in favour of worn, bright green pyjama bottoms with clouds and rainbows and unicorns on them. They remind him of Gai, and he ruthlessly squashes another wave of guilt. Kakashi is a failure of a person. That’s nothing new.
The smell of miso starts wafting from the kitchen, warm and comforting. Kakashi makes his way across the room, peering in through the bathroom door as he passes. A lot of the water is gone, the floor still shiny with water but at least not flooded.
He makes eye contact with Sakura through the massive hole in the wall as she lifts a dripping wet towel. She keeps eye contact, then throws it through the wall at the tiles above the bathtub. It hits with a splat and lands a moment later with a slap, the tub now home to all but one of Kakashi’s mismatched towels.
He could stop the feeling as it rises, but he doesn’t want to. Kakashi laughs, for the first time he can remember in this world entirely freely. It starts with a chuckle, then builds to gasping, out loud cackles that feel like catharsis.
Sakura stares, wide eyed, through the gap in the wall Kakashi made with Obito’s magic eye and Kakashi’s bathroom cabinet is gone and Obito has his toothbrush now and it’s so, so stupid and what the hell is the leader of the Akatsuki going to think when he finds it and Obito’s eye is crying as Kakashi laughs, bending over and clutching at the door frame in his silly unicorn pyjamas with grey strands falling over his face and he probably died in another world but here he’s a murderer with super powers but maybe he can make a difference, wearing another man’s body and how is any of this real - it is so, so stupid.
“Sensei?” Sakura sounds so small and uncertain. He’s not given them anything but trauma, really, has he? It’s wave all over again, but by now he should know better.
The laughter turns into gasping breaths.
“Sorry,” he gulps for air through the mask. “Sorry.”
He’s so fucking tired.
“Come on-,” Sasuke’s words from the kitchen are interrupted by a loud banging on the front door.
Kakashi pulls himself together, one breath to the next from delirium to focus, the pressure of laughter and panic high in his chest, back tense, and steps away to go see what the noise is about.
“Hey! HEY KAKASHI-SENSEI!” Naruto. The door opens, a blur of blue, orange and yellow barging inside and behind him-
“Naruto! You can’t just-”
“Iruka-sensei?” Kakashi stands stumped.
Naruto runs past him toward the kitchen with a “Hey, Kaka-sensei! Are Sakura-chan and Sasuke-teme still..?“
“Naruto!” Sakura greets, though it sounds scolding.
“Kakashi-sensei.” Iruka bows politely. “Apologies for coming by like this,” The academy teacher stands outside the threshold and awkwardly scratches at the back of his neck. He’s in his uniform, smelling of ramen. So did Naruto, dashing past. They must have come from Ichiraku’s.
“Sure.” It’s weird. Like seeing a teacher out of school (ha). “Want to come in?” Kakashi looks back through the doorway toward the kitchen where Naruto just disappeared.
“KAKA-SENSEI!? WHAT HAPPENED-!?” There’s a slap and a muffled shriek, one of the others must have covered Naruto’s mouth.
Kakashi squints a smile at Iruka.
“I wouldn’t want to impose,” the academy teacher says weakly, weirdly transfixed on Kakashi’s face.
Right. Blood.
“Do you, ah, need any help, Kakashi-sensei?” Iruka asks.
Kakashi hums. He’s too tired to try and figure this out. His head hurts. The kids are loud in the kitchen, Sasuke yelling at Naruto to back off.
“Are we friends?” Kakashi remembers them fighting in the story, but he can’t remember why.
Iruka startles.
“Maa, maybe not. Acquaintances, then?” He continues. Iruka is younger. If he graduated at more realistic pace than Kakashi, that’s practically a generational divide. And he’s a chuunin, so there’s probably not much overlap in their lives. Didn’t Kakashi fail a bunch of teams before this one… maybe that was why they didn’t seem to get on?
Iruka nods once, clearly confused. “I suppose?”
“Or maybe co-parents,” Kakashi tilts his head and refrains from squinting just to see how bright red Iruka turns despite his tan. “You have Naruto on weekdays, I get the weekends, Ebisu is the long-suffering tutor?”
Still red, Iruka hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Kakashi-sensei…”
“Thank you.”
“Huh?” Iruka looks up at the sudden sincerity.
“For being there for Naruto. There’s a lot of people who should have been, and weren’t.” Including the real Kakashi. He keeps the smile to try and take the edge off his words. It’s unbelievable that Naruto is here after Kakashi failed so badly at handling the aftermath of Kimimaro’s death. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Forgiveness, kindness, it’s so deeply built into the kid. He should have known, even as he doesn’t deserve it.
“It was the least I could do, once I saw past fear and realised he’s just a kid,” Iruka says softly, briefly looking away.
Kakashi sighs. “Still.”
There’s a moment of awkward silence, where Iruka studies Kakashi's face. The evening view of the strip of park and distant houses behind Iruka is still active, with people moving through the area and heading home or out again after the day’s work. The scene is lit with glowing windows and pricks of streetlights, Iruka himself cast with slanting shadows from the lamp beside Kakashi’s front door.
"He doesn't hate you, you know,” Iruka says.
"Ah. I figured, since he,” Kakashi points toward the kitchen with a thumb. “Not that I deserve it.” He crosses his arms, shielding himself and trapping his hands, making himself less of a threat. “He's a good kid."
"He is,” Iruka agrees.
"You can stay for dinner, if you want." Kakashi says. He doesn’t have it in him to turn away Naruto’s precious people. Iruka’s eyes flick down over Kakashi’s shoulder, the visible ANBU tattoo, his undershirt, down to the ridiculous trousers and his bare feet, then up again.
"I really don’t want to be a bother,” Iruka looks flustered again. “And I did put away two whole bowls at Ichiraku’s." He chuckles self-deprecatingly.
"Fair enough."
So… should he just say goodbye and close the door? People didn’t ever just come over unannounced in that other world, with smartphones glued to every set of hands. Small talk isn’t something the real Kakashi ever bothered to watch with the Sharingan. This fake Kakashi doesn’t know the etiquette here.
“Oh,” Iruka jumps a little, as if remembering something. “I didn’t come by just to follow Naruto. He said he was coming here, so I figured I might as well bring this in person, rather than send someone tomorrow.” He pulls a mission scroll from his pocket, the tan and red and black unmistakeable. It still smells like the Hokage tower, as does Iruka, beneath the ramen and his own scent.
Kakashi takes it with a raised eyebrow.
“Non-urgent, not classified. Uhm. Read it tomorrow, maybe?”
Right. He’s in his pyjamas with a flooded apartment and blood crusted underneath his eye.
“Yeah. I’ll do that. Thanks.”
From the kitchen Naruto’s voice comes at full volume, “NO WAY! THAT’S SO COOL BELIEVE IT!”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” The concern in Iruka’s dark eyes is uncomfortable, and Kakashi’s looks away to escape it.
What is he even supposed to say? A no will just make things awkward, yes would be an obvious lie.
He crinkles his eyes, and only half lies. "I will be."
“All right,” Iruka straightens up and puts on a polite smile. “I’ll be off then.” He leans in very slightly and turns in the direction Naruto ran. “See you later, Naruto!”
“BYE IRUKA-SENSEI!”
“Bye Sakura-chan, Sasuke-kun!” Iruka adds.
”Bye Iruka-sensei!” Sakura leans out into view past the little hallway to the kitchen, holding a dog bowl of all things.
“Hn.” Sasuke stays out of sight.
Kakashi closes the door after the academy teacher with slow movements, the door handle warm in the summer night air.
Today has been… a very strange day
He goes to the bathroom and rinses his face in the shower, because the sink doesn’t work anymore. The red on his hands as the blood comes off threatens another spiral, but the voices of the kids bickering in the other room keeps him just about present. He wipes his face and hands on his shirt, as every single towel is soaked and now hanging haphazardly around the room.
Team Seven gathers around the kitchen table, the floor damp beneath their feet. The warm light from the ceiling lamp makes the hole in the wall even stranger to look at. Smooth cuts that must have been the edge of Kamui borders crumbling brick and drywall, hit hard to expose the leaking pipes.
All the random shit Kakashi had left out on the table has been gathered in the dog bowl and set to the side, stainless steel gleaming, a jarring assortment of items colourful like candies. The genin bully Kakashi into a chair and spread out the dishes they’ve made, miso soup and rice and fried fish, sliced cucumber and tomatoes. It smells amazing.
For some reason Sasuke and Sakura end up in a staring match over the rickety folding chair, Sakura eventually relenting to a smug Sasuke, who unfolds it with a snap and places it next to Kakashi. Naruto claims the desk chair and proceeds to serve himself a full meal, despite however much he must have eaten with Iruka just before.
It’s warm, and homely, and Kakashi must be suffering from some kind of mental whiplash, because he can’t quite make sense of any of it. They all stare at him wide eyed when he pulls down the mask and doesn’t try to hide his face, but they don’t say anything.
Sakura takes too-small portions, then throws a glance at Sasuke’s bowl and adds just as much again to her own. When she looks up to meet his eye, Kakashi smiles.
They finish up the food to Naruto’s chatter and Sakura’s occasional comment. Kakashi learns that Naruto is back training and running D-ranks with Ebisu, and that Sakura and Sasuke are still both on medical leave.
Kakashi covers his face up again. Sasuke serves tea, the ceramic set traditional, glazed in Uchiha colours. Kakashi has never seen it before, and he definitely did not have this many cups.
Asuma is alive, he learns, and still in hospital.
“I saw him yesterday after class,” Sasuke tells them, hands wrapped around a steaming cup. “He says he’ll keep teaching eventually, if Team Ten doesn’t graduate before he can, but for now… We’ll be reassigned.” He taps his fingers against the ceramic. “He won’t be able to walk.” They’re all quiet for a moment, painfully aware how hard that must be, when their whole lives revolve around physical action.
“Ne, ne, Sasuke-teme!” Naruto restarts the conversation. “You should be on a team with me and Ebisu-pervy-sensei believe it!”
“Moron I don’t think we get to decide that!”
“Ino-pig said they’re keeping Ino-Shika-Cho together,” Sakura says, thoughtful. “They’ve already got another teacher.”
“Hn,” Sasuke agrees. “They’re all in rehab and doing light duty, so it works.”
Kakashi clears his throat, and the three of them turn to him.
“I… wanted to talk to all of you.” He looks from one to the other, then settles on Naruto, who despite his focus is kicking his legs and bouncing ever so slightly in his seat. “Sorry to be serious,” he crinkles his eye but it doesn’t hold, so he just meets Naruto’s eyes instead. “I’m sorry about Kimimaro, and how we handled it at the end.”
The mood immediately drops. Sakura goes a little pale, and Naruto’s jaw clenches. Sasuke looks between the two of them, concerned.
Kakashi continues. “You were right, Naruto. No one deserves that.” He runs his hands over the cup in front of him, dark blue glaze melds into deep red and into white seamlessly. “You see the world differently. You’re…” Young. Inexperienced. Free, in a way, because he’s too valuable to risk alienating. “You can and want to see people differently.”
He lets go of the cup and turns his hands over. They’re clean, he knows they are, but the impulse to scrub them raw remains. He curls them together.
“First of all, I’m proud of all three of you. You went beyond what anyone could expect, and you saved lives.” He draws a deep breath. “Second, Naruto, Sakura, running off like you did was extremely reckless. If Shikamaru hadn’t been there, that would have ended very badly.” They both have the decency to look chastised, but there’s a defiant gleam in Naruto’s eyes. “Naruto. You know that you are valuable to the village, and this time that worked out. Your station, as well as Shikamaru and Ino’s, meant we could go after you. I’m not going to tell you never to use that to your own benefit, because what’s expected of you and what’s been done to you is fucking awful, but be smart about it.”
Naruto is tugging at the blue shirt over his stomach, tracksuit jacket hanging open. Kakashi wants to pick him up and put him somewhere safe and never let him out again.
“You all need to remember that if this had not been Naruto, and not the child of an important clan head in danger, you might as well have had an ANBU team coming to take you in for desertion instead of teams coming to your rescue. And Naruto, if you are taken or there is reason to think you have been, that could be more than enough cause for war. In this situation it was the right call to leave the village without authorization, but please be careful.”
“So,” Sakura says, voice shaky, “if it was just me..?”
“I don’t know,” Kakashi says honestly. “It depends on how much influence I still have, as your sensei. And some of your colleagues in the future will never have this kind of freedom. It's something you'll need to be aware of on other teams.”
“Nepotism,” Sasuke says.
“Yes,” Kakashi agrees flatly.
“What about Sasuke-teme?” Naruto asks.
Kakashi sighs. “If nothing else, they’d send ANBU to prevent his eyes falling into enemy hands. If there’s a next time,” he can’t kid himself that they won’t go haring off again if something should happen, “at least have Naruto send clones to scout ahead and to report back to the village. The other day there were conscious witnesses who could vouch for you and report in. I have to assume Shikamaru took that into account. Did he share that with you?”
Sakura shakes her head. Naruto twists his lips and stares at the tabletop.
There is silence for an unnaturally long time with Naruto in the room. Sakura finally breaks it.
“Are you okay, Sensei? You were…” she seems to search for a word. “Not normal.”
He smiles and tries to make it reassuring, but it probably looks more like a stiff grimace. He is so tired, and his head feels stuffed with everything he’s learned over the last few days. Alongside cotton balls and razor wire, there's not much space for his brain.
“I’ve… had to face some things,” he hedges. The black haired teen in the forest, the target, going down with Kakashi’s kunai slitting his throat. Kimimaro’s face, eyes dim and mouth open in a silent scream around a budding tree. Naruto’s reaction. The faces of the other genin, seeing it. The clan children nowhere near as bothered and isn’t that disturbing too-
Finally he decides to just be straightforward. They deserve that much.
“This mission brought it to the forefront. Basically… I… remember killing a lot of people.” He can’t say I have killed a lot of people, because it probably wasn’t him, even as the images haunt him anyway, and it was these hands that ended all those lives. It doesn’t matter, he has taken one all by himself now, too. Monster. “Sometimes in terrible ways. Sometimes people who didn’t deserve it at all. I’m not the best at handling it. Mostly... I’m numb to it all.”
Numb maybe isn’t the right word. Dead to it. But not to the idea of what that means, the gaping dread that is the Mangekyo assures him. “You three should know that... My responses to things aren’t always… Logical. I can keep up in the field but…”
Unwilling to raise his head he gestures vaguely to the broken wall and to the dog bowl filled with all the things he counts and flips and spins to make sure the world is still real.
From the corner of his eye Kakashi sees that Sasuke’s knuckles have gone white as he stares into the tea. Jasmine. A little bit stale, a little bit scalded with too hot water. The steam is gone by now. The last Uchiha has already seen more death than anyone should have to in a lifetime.
Sakura moves to hold her injured arm, the sling bunching.
Naruto has looked up from the table and is staring at Kakashi, unblinking.
Kakashi keeps going. “Violence, causing harm to others, it is not a good thing. For what it does to those subjected to it or to those, us, who cause it. Especially when young. And war… I think you might have been told variations of this, now that we’re at peace, but it hurts everyone. Those who don’t deserve it most of all.”
He twists his fingers together to resist the urge to form seals.
“The adults and the elders in this village know that, and should be the ones to change things. But they, we, were shaped by it, and you can’t rely on us to fix it. One day that will be up to your generation.” He finally brings himself to look up squarely, instead of taking in the children through the periphery of his vision.
“My priority is always going to be your safety. I’ll probably fuck up again, but I promise, if you three ever need help, whatever it is, I will do everything in my power to give it. You are the future of this place for me.”
He thinks of how Sasuke and Sakura had to find him out cold on the floor, thanks to his own self-destructive choices, and how the real Kakashi must have felt finding his own father.
The man who isn’t Kakashi never saw his parents after the accident, they just never came home.
“I promise I won't leave you if I can do anything at all to prevent it, either. So, I want you to keep telling me what matters to you, even if you think I won’t like it. And if I do something you don’t like, please know I am still thinking of you.” Then he quickly tacks on, “but don’t think you can ignore orders in the field. That’s dangerous for everyone.”
The silence would be deafening, if not for the ringing in his ears and the dripping of water from the broken wall.
“Kakashi-sensei...” Naruto trails off before he even really starts.
Sasuke says nothing, and doesn’t move. He hardly seems to be breathing.
“Whatever happens, we’re a team,” Sakura says, determined. “Forever.”
“Maa,” Kakashi says, trying to soften his own dramatic declaration. “I’m just old and a bit broken. You don’t need to stick yourselves to me like that.”
Sasuke’s voice comes out nearly inaudible. “Those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash.”
“YEAH!” Naruto’s volume is ear-splitting. He stands up on the chair and points dramatically. “You can’t just say all that stuff and think you can be rid of us THAT EASY! BELIEVE IT!” The desk chair spins slightly as he puts too much weight to one side, and he ends up pointing at the wall above Sasuke’s head.
Sasuke turns to blink up at Kakashi. “Believe it.”
“BELIEVE IT!” Sakura punches the table and everything clatters, her own nearly empty cup falls over, spilling a few drops of tea on the scuffed wood.
Kakashi raises his hands in surrender. “Believe it?”
-
He reads the scroll that evening, head swimming with exhaustion while Sasuke falls asleep in a mission bedroll on the floor.
A-rank. Long-term, to be performed until further notice. Non-classified, as Iruka said. Personal, assigned to Hatake Kakashi only. To train Genin-rank shinobi Uchiha Sasuke in the use of the Sharingan.
-
In the morning he wakes in agony and ready to move, surprised to be in his own apartment rather than out on some diffuse mission. The dripping water and Sasuke’s breaths apparently enough to throw off the familiarity of the place.
Puddles have grown larger again overnight, and it seems like such an insurmountable task to deal with that he just stands in the bathroom doorway for way too long, slumped against the frame. His head sags, heavy with lingering fatigue. He forces himself onward, grabbing a ration bar rather than the leftovers from the night before for breakfast.
Out the kitchen window brilliant morning sun lights up distant buildings, and the many treetops in view glow brilliant green. The apartment block stands taller than most of the buildings around it, throwing the immediate view into shade.
He’s sagging by the kitchen table while the kettle heats on the stove, when Sasuke stirs in the other room. A rustle as the bedroll is shoved aside, quiet footsteps approaching. He appears in the doorway with ruffled hair and sleep-gummed eyes, suppressing a yawn. Like this, in the soft morning light of the kitchen and not quite awake, he looks more like a child than ever.
“Food’s in the fridge, if you want it,” Kakashi mumbles, chin heavy in the palm of his hand.
Sasuke silently helps himself to the leftovers, and finishes Kakashi’s abandoned tea making project.
They sit in companionable quiet until Sasuke puts down his chopsticks, then Kakashi slides the scroll across the table.
Sasuke glances up at him, then back to the scroll and unrolls it. He reads it quickly, and nods.
“Can I still go to classes?” his voice is raspy and strained, the damage not quite undone it seems. The previous day it had sounded better, so maybe periods of disuse make it worse.
“Of course.” Kakashi pulls down the mask to take a sip of tea. This one is familiar, a simple black tea he’s bought himself. He’d call it English breakfast, but England doesn’t exist here. “Using the Sharingan can be overwhelming, so it’s not like we’ll be doing full days of training. It might be easier on you, though.”
“Why?” Sasuke frowns.
“You’re born with it, so if I’ve got it right, your chakra system and your brain should be better adapted to fuel it and take in the details than mine are.” That’s what he’s guessing from the story, but it fits with what Tanaka-sensei had said as well.
“Okay. What about Sakura?”
“I’m going to see if I can apprentice her officially… It depends on if this means I’m actually cleared for missions yet.” He taps the edge of the scroll. “So you can hopefully make a small team. Otherwise I’ll be training her outside her missions and your Sharingan lessons.”
A nod. “Can I do more taijutsu training with Gai-sensei?”
“You’ll have to ask him about that,” Kakashi turns away to look out the window.
-
Going to book a regular appointment at the hospital, willingly and under his own power, is a surreal experience. The nurse (vaguely familiar, a young woman in the typical, minty green hospital uniform) behind the desk stares at him as he walks up, number slip held visible to confirm it’s his turn in the queue.
Sasuke is a short shadow at Kakashi’s right, affecting that aloof calm all the kids seem to think is so cool.
The room is quiet, a couple of chuunin waiting to the side, and next to Kakashi and Sasuke at the desk speaking to the other nurse is an academy student smelling of fear and blood and snot, crying in the arms of what must be a parent, both of them with auburn, curly hair.
“I’d like to book an appointment,” Kakashi says. Both nurses freeze. The unfamiliar parent, forehead protector glinting in the fluorescent light, also turns to stare as the nurses do, clearly reacting to them. There’s a clatter by the ‘staff only’ door off to the side. Kakashi glances over. An older, male nurse just walked into the wall next to the door and dropped a metal tray, head turned to look at Kakashi as well. The small child stops crying in confusion, hands wrapped in their parent’s blue shirt.
Sasuke stands on his tiptoes and leans over the tall partition at the front edge of the desk. “He needs to see a doctor. Chakra exhaustion. Soon would be good.”
“Ah, Sasuke-kun?” The nurse finally comes out of her frozen state. “Right! Apologies, Hatake-san. Just stay right. There.” She starts frantically flicking through a binder next to her.
“Maa, it’s all right,” Kakashi tucks the queue slip into a little pot for it, on top of the raised front of the desk that Sasuke is still leaning on. The white paint is scuffing, showing dark wood through the scratches and worn corners.
“No, no, please hang on. I’m just gonna… wait here okay?”
“Okay?”
They end up left standing by the desk as the young woman power walks away through the swinging doors, further into the hospital hallways.
Beside them the little kid is reminded of their injury when the parent re-starts a description of an accident at school.
Kakashi twists to look down at Sasuke who now slouches with his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
“So… that was interesting.”
“Hn.”
Helpful.
The nurse returns a few minutes later, Kana-san in tow.
“Thank you, senpai!” The younger woman bows to her colleague, and hurries back to her spot behind the desk.
“Hatake-san,” Kana-san says, surprisingly polite. “Come with me, please.”
“Eh? I’m just here to book an appointment, it’s not an emergency.” Why are they all acting like the world is ending? He feels like crap, sure, but that’s normal.
“Tanaka-sensei had an opening,” Kana-san says and smooths down the front of her uniform.
Kakashi narrows his eye. “Isn’t Tanaka-sensei your foremost chakra-dysfunction specialist, and always busy.”
“Exactly, so, we have to grab this opportunity. Come along now.”
Something’s clearly fishy here.
“Right.” Kakashi looks at Sasuke.
“I’m coming with.” The audacious child then goes ahead, shuffling over to the double doors into the hallway Kana-san and unnamed-nurse just came from.
Kakashi sighs. The slouch is easy, but he wishes he had something to do with his hands. He follows the others, defeated.
-
“So let me get this straight,” Tanaka-sensei says. Her short hair is ruffled, the grey, textured strands split into odd sections of short ridges as if she’s been running her hands through it again and again in the exact same pattern. She still smells like curry.
“You,” the doctor continues, “in a matter of a few days, ran far and fast enough to expend chakra continuously for several hours, overdosed on chakra pills, took part in a full scale ninjutsu battle, suffered chakra exhaustion and did not seek help. Then, before recovering, you decided to experiment with a new technique without anyone else present to assist. And your twelve-year-old students saved your life when they found you.”
Kakashi cringes. "Yeah. That's about it. Sakura's thirteen though."
"Do you have a death wish?"
He feels the flinch and squashes it hard, freezing in place instead.
"...Hatake" her eyes bore into him like blades.
"I don't. I really don't.” He makes himself breathe out, makes sure to fidget. “I did... Spiral. Mentally. Somewhat."
"You don't say." Tanaka-sensei sighs.
Kakashi shrugs, sheepish. He does his best to look innocent.
"Okay.” She stands and grabs her stethoscope from the desk, leaving her notepad and a half-drunk cup of what smells like melon juice behind. “Let's do a physical exam, and then I'll look over your medication. You realise I can't clear you for active missions? Please take time to rest."
"That's fair," he agrees.
She narrows her eyes.
“I will.”
She nods. "And send in Uchiha-kun when we're done. If he's going to run around performing medical jutsu without certification I want to check his technique."
"Understood.”
-
“So, what did Tanaka-sensei say?” Kakashi asks Sasuke when they’re finally out of the building, after the exam and a detour looking in on a sleeping Asuma. Kakashi didn’t think to bring a card, and has no drive to get back in there anytime soon, so left him a bad post-it doodle of Pakkun holding a sign saying 'get well soon'. (Sasuke judged him so hard. He counts that as an accomplishment.)
They’re walking through now familiar streets. Kakashi is leaning heavier than he’d like to admit on the crutches Tanaka-sensei forced onto him.
It’s not even midday but the heat is becoming oppressive, another thunderstorm looming even with the sky still intensely blue. There’s a trio of giggling academy-age girls following them, hiding badly around a corner two crossing streets back. They’re stacked like Scooby-Doo characters behind a dying plant vine, where it crawls up the drainpipe on a white wall. The smell of street foods is just starting to pick up, ahead of the lunch rush.
Above the heads of the stalker children, on a jutting piece of roof above a tiny balcony, someone is hiding under an ANBU-standard genjutsu. They're doing it quite well, but not perfectly. He can smell their presence, human, female, unscented soap and a tinge of bitter herbs, and the shadows of the blue roof tiles beneath them don’t hit quite right. He can’t tell if they’re the Hokage’s, or if they’re ROOT.
Saskue shrugs with one shoulder. “She yelled at me. Then I think she offered me a job.” He frowns. “It was kind of confusing.”
“Huh.”
“Hn.”
They decide to meet for training the following afternoon, and go their separate ways.
Kakashi should go and rest, resetting his chakra recovery plan to the earliest stages, but he can’t. The Mangekyo sits like a weight on his shoulders, scratching at the back of his mind, and there’s only really one place he can seek out.
-
The memorial stone gleams in the sunlight.
For once, he’s not the only person there. An older chuunin, his vest worn open over the standard blues, kneels with freshly lit incense when Kakashi arrives. The guy smells of the forest, and there is mud dried to his shoes. Closed toe, rather than the open style most people wear.
Kakashi gives him space, settling below a tree a little way away, watching quietly.
The unfamiliar man puts the incense in a holder at the base of the stone with slow, reverent movements. Then he pulls out a cloth, wiping down the shiny surface. When he’s done, he bows to it, and walks away quietly. Kakashi knows every name on the memorial by heart, and he wonders who the stranger was there for.
Standing up and gathering the crutches is annoying, but soon Kakashi is back in the spot he always ends up standing in. It’s a wonder there’s no dent in the paving stones, really.
His eye finds Obito’s name without searching.
It’s different, being back without the overwhelming despair that dragged him under just yesterday. It’s strange, with a clearer head to know the memories of brightly coloured anime and black and white manga panels are at least partially real.
He hates that he can’t remember in detail what Obito’s plot was. (He hates even more that he has no real memories beside the single one.) He knows Tobi of the Akatsuki; strange, childish, annoying Tobi, who sometimes acted as Madara, who could teleport and phase through things and was invulnerable. He knows that in the story Obito and Kakashi had complimentary Mangekyo Sharingan.
But the boy who would one day find himself Kakashi stopped reading the manga sometime in the fourth war arc (and fuck, more wars always come but he doesn’t want people to suffer another one), and he’d stopped watching the anime before that. He’d thought he’d outgrown it, and he can’t even remember if he read that Tobi was Obito himself or if he learned it second hand, years later.
And now he’s here, and he doesn’t know how to fix things. Doesn’t know if there is anything left to fix.
It’s one thing to talk to the dead, to share with them, to think of them. It’s another to talk to them knowing they’re alive.
Still.
The memories have him in a strangling, drowning tide of what if. He pulls off the headband, and opens Obito’s eye.
“Hello, Obito.”
The forehead protector dangles from one hand, and the other hooks around the handle of the now spare crutch, smooth aliminum and plastic clammy against his fingers.
He is entirely alone, no prickling presence, no mirage of chakra visible to the red eye. He thinks he can feel the tomoe slowly spinning. He doesn't know if some part of Obito will hear him through magic eye connection bullshit.
“I wanted to tell you something. It’s… maybe not all that important to you, these days, in the grand scheme of things. But it is to me.”
He can almost imagine that his own reflection in the dark, polished stone is someone else.
“Even with my mind replaced by an alien from another dimension I still think about you every day. And I miss you every day.” He probably couldn’t say this to Obito’s face, even if he was here.
“So I wanted to tell you that to me, no matter how little I remember, you are still my friend. No matter what happens, and no matter what we have to do. And I need you to know that what that man has done to you… and what was done to Rin, it should never have happened. You were just children, and you were failed.” Obito’s eye twinges, even though Kakashi is not feeling all that emotional right now. Crybaby ninja.
There is still dread and despair that will probably never go away (Obito’s face, half hidden by the boulder that’s killing him, empty eye socked staring out at them), but there is also a building, oddly peaceful determination.
“If there really is a crazy plan to turn the moon into a giant fuck-off Sharingan, I just have to let you know it’s a dumb, shitty plan, and you shouldn’t do it.” He smiles wryly to himself. “Because, despite everything, despite the darkness… there are good things in this world, and they are worth fighting for."
He lets the moment sit in stillness, then he snorts. “Fuck. I can’t even remember you well enough to know if you’d like Lord of the Rings. But I think you would.” He leans more heavily on the crutch still under his right arm. “It’s this story, and the most important thing in it… is about normal people stepping up to do the right thing, to fight for what is good in the worst of times against impossible odds, and for each other. It's about sticking together. I learned that same lesson from you too, before I saw that film. That those who abandon their friends are worse than trash.”
Kakashi’s own eye is entirely dry, but he tucks the headband under his arm and pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment, resisting the need to sniffle as the gathering tears finally escape Obito’s.
“So I just wanted to say. I’m going to get better again, and then I’m going to train so fucking hard. If you do turn out to be alive, which by the way, it’s insane that it could be real. I’m coming for you. And I’m coming for the people who hurt you, and I'm going to end them. So yeah, Obito. Be prepared.” He smiles at the stone, eyes crinkling.
Somewhere a frog croaks, breaking the moment.
-
OMAKE
It’s evening, streetlights making the two children just about visible.
Naruto looks around suspiciously, then he turns to Sakura and says under his breath, “Hey, Sakura-chan, I think Kakashi-sensei said he’d do treason for us.”
Sakura stares. For a very long moment. Naruto stares back. Then Sakura leans in close...
“IDIOT!”
Naruto jumps and flails his arms. “Wha- SAKURA-CHAN!?”
She huffs and crosses her arms. “Naruto, he already did! How’d you even forget!?”
“Oh… right. I didn’t really think that counted you know?”
“Do you know what S-class secret even means!?”
“Eh… super-secret?”
Sakura rolls her eyes with a groan and starts walking.
Naruto continues, jogging after her, somehow undeterred and with his hearing intact.
“Okay but you heard Sensei say he... remembers stuff, right? That was a thing he really said?”
Her eyes narrow. “Yeah... you’re right…” She gasps. “He did say that!”
"D'you think Sasuke minds if we go add it to the board?" Naruto crosses his arms behind his head.
"We can't just break into Sasuke-kun's house!"
"We break into Kakashi-sensei's all the time and he never cares!"
"Because Kakashi-sensei is crazy! We'll go find Sasuke-kun tomorrow."
"Yeah, yeah, but you gotta help me remember exactly what Kaka-sensei said then believe it!"
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