Standard disclaimers apply (ie. I don't own Naruto).

Originally posted on ao3 in 2017.

Kakashi probably could not pinpoint the exact moment the other became a fixture in his life. He had become acquainted, for the lack of a better word with the older man (and by the slight stubble on the other's chin, Kakashi was certain that the man was a good ten years older than him) during a reconnaissance mission in Kiri. The mission was a success and they had the information they needed. The scroll that was neatly tucked away under his flak jacket was evidence for that. His team of four had just stepped outside the borders of Kiri when they were ambushed. A quick scan and Kakashi counted at least ten Kiri-nin. When both sides clashed, he quickly realised that they were just above chunin level. Making short work of one with a few well-timed kicks, Kakashi spun around when he felt a tingling in the back of his neck. He deflected the kunai that was aimed at his head and retaliated with a senbon of his own. The thud that followed was all he needed to know that it had found its mark.

Ducking so that another kunai whizzed harmlessly past him, Kakashi bit back a wince when pain shot up his right leg. It was only a moment's delay but the katana that came bearing down onto him was too close for comfort. The silver glinted in the light and he realised that he could not completely avoid it, not without it slicing through his standard ANBU shirt and piercing skin.

Gritting his teeth, Kakashi braced for the pain but all he felt was a rush of wind. It propelled him backwards so that the katana sailed through the air just in front of him. The Kiri-nin looked just as bewildered as he did, although Kakashi's shinobi instincts kicked in before the other recovered. He wasted no time in forming the necessary seals for a katon.

It was only much later that Kakashi was able to mull over the turn of events. With his team, mostly unscathed but for the few superficial wounds that their medic quickly took care of, tucked away in cave a fair distance away from where the earlier skirmish took place, Kakashi seated himself by the entrance. It gave him an unobscured view of the immediate vicinity, because years of training taught him there was no such thing as being too paranoid, although he would have preferred a higher vantage point, say atop a tree.

Over the quiet murmur of his squadron, Kakashi allowed his head tip back and his eyes to slip shut as exhaustion crept up on him and his shoulders slumped slightly.

That gust of wind … if it was not some kind of wind release, Kakashi would eat his collection of exploding tags. He frowned, because now with the adrenaline wearing off, the theory that was taking form in the fringes of his mind seemed more preposterous than ever. It must have been momentary insanity or hell, some kind of undetectable genjutsu because there was no way. 'Although, Obito's sharingan would have seen through any genjutsu,' a part of his brain supplied. And at the thought of his teammate, Kakashi swallowed heavily. Images of his team, his old teambecause no team, present or future could ever replace-

There was a burning in his eyes and Kakashi blinked furiously, even though his ANBU mask was more than enough to hide whatever turmoil that laid beneath and within.

It was impossible because he swore he saw a flash of yellow behind the enemy nin but when he blinked, it had disappeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination because in that moment- he swore he saw his sensei.

But that was impossible because the Yondaime was dead, buried deep into the cold hard ground where Kakashi could never hope to reach.

It had become a ritual. Before and after every mission, and almost every moment in between, Kakashi found himself down the same road, making the familiar turns and ending up with his feet planted in front of the memorial stone.

Here, he let his thoughts consume him because he was alone and did not need to pretend to be someone he was not – brave. Because for all the praises and expectations his peers heaped onto him since he graduated from the academy at the tender age of six, Kakashi was anything but brave. Left to his own thoughts, Kakashi fenced himself off from everyone else. He threw himself into every mission, into every fight just so he did not have to remember. He focused on the adrenaline rush and the acute awareness of everything, from the dilation of the enemy's pupils to the slight delay in their hand seals. Because it all made him forget.

He ascended the ranks quickly and after just six months, he was named captain of his own squad. Yet he felt nothing. His heart did not lighten when he shook hands with the ANBU commander at his promotion nor when the Third offered his congratulations in person. Instead, he felt empty as he stared blankly at the new mask handed to him. It was cold to touch and the porcelain was heavy in his hands.

Running a hand through his hair as his thoughts ran astray, Kakashi stood still as he regarded the memorial stone in silence. He had no idea how long he stayed like that. The names were beginning to blur into one another when he blinked and caught a glimpse of yellow in the corner of his eye. This time, Kakashi knew it was not adrenaline or genjutsu, or whatever theories his mind had cooked up that time.

He was sixteen and an active ANBU operative so he should have been wary of any unknown nin, especially when the Kyuubi invasion was only mere months ago and the village had barely recovered. He should have been on his guard but for some reason, his hand did not stray downward to rest against his pouch, ready to flick a kunai at the sign of any danger. He did not recognise the other's chakra but it was not malicious, and instead felt warm. Almost unwittingly, his mind conjured up a hazy image of Obito whose chakra had always been a beacon and it blazed like scorching fire. He recalled the toothy smile, fogged up goggles and a clumsiness that was unbecoming of a shinobi, and Kakashi felt his chest constrict. His breaths came in gasps and Kakashi squeezed his eye shut. It was too much, too soon and he felt like the ground was disappearing from beneath him.

There was a light touch on his shoulder. It kept him grounded to reality and Kakashi vaguely realised that he was swaying slightly on his feet. He tensed. Because right now he was too vulnerable, because one kunai to the chest was all that separated him from this world and the next but the warm fingers pressing firmly into his shoulder to steady him did not disappear in place of a kunai. And Kakashi … he did not yank his shoulder away. With his head bowed, Kakashi took in the other's standard shinobi clothing and relaxed stance. Sunlight fell onto the other's hand and he saw faint scars littered across tanned skin.

There was a soft exhale and the hand on his shoulder was withdrawn. Looking up, he could barely hold back the words that slipped past his lips.

"Minato sen–"

His eye widened at the sight of blond hair and Kakashi could feel cold fingers grabbing hold of his heart and yanking it mercilessly. But it was too short, and a shade different from spiky golden hair he was used to seeing- wanted to desperately see again.

No, this was not Minato sensei miraculously back from the dead, and Kakashi was still very much alone in this world.

Meeting the other's gaze, Kakashi froze at the familiar shade of blue. He wanted to tear his eyes away because the memories he had sought to bury away came rushing back to the forefront of his mind, along with the agony, the guilt and the helplessness. But at the same time, he could not and would not look away. So he gave in and eagerly drank in the sight which reminded him too vividly of everything he had lost.

Eventually, it became too much and he screwed his eye shut. It was too soon and he did not expect–

"Hey, are you alright?"

Kakashi's eye snapped open and found the other furrowing his brows slightly in concern.

'No,' Kakashi thought, he was not alright. He must be hallucinating because this was not making any sense. He would rather fight a squad of Kumo-nin than invest any more brain power into trying to unravel the shitstorm that was going on in his head. Maybe the back-to-back missions were finally getting to him.

Ever since that encounter, Kakashi had kept his eyes and ears peeled for any sign of his sensei's lookalike. His sensei never mentioned a brother or any blood relatives but … the resemblance was too great to be a coincidence. He was certain that there must be some Namikaze in the other's blood.

The third time they met was not until a few months later when Kakashi was on a solo mission in Amegakure. It was almost nightfall when he finished his mission. He was ready to make the four-day journey back to Konoha when the sound of something sailing through the air had him crouching to avoid being skewered by an enormous barbed monstrosity of a– was that a sword? Kakashi had no time to ponder when the thing swung in an arc and came descending on him. Leaping back, he held back the urge to uncover his sharingan because that would be a dead giveaway. Spinning around to dodge another swing that would have torn his left arm into shreds, he deftly twisted the kunai in his hand and bent his knees to stabilise his stance.

His eye flickered upward to the Kiri headband and the slash that ran across it. His lips curled, missing-nin. Kakashi noted the row of sharp pointy teeth and the blue colouring which cannot be dye or face paint. Big sword and blue skin … His mind supplied the name he was looking for – Hoshigaki Kisame. One of the seven Swordsmen of the Mist and if he was not mistaken, that monstrosity of a sword was Samehada. A sword renowned for being able to absorb chakra and then, transferring it to the wielder. Kakashi supressed a grimace because he was no Uzumaki, with a bottomless supply of chakra. His chakra levels were probably a bit higher than an average jounin, which worked well for his techniques. Rather than a ninjutsu specialist, Kakashi was more of a taijutsu coupled with genjutsu user. He was efficient in battle, preferring to calculate his every move instead of trial and error, which meant that this fight was definitely not in his favour. Alone and far from home, he steeled himself because the chances of anyone coming to his aid were slim, if not nil. So when Hoshigaki came at him with a feral grin, Kakashi gripped his kunai tightly and fell into the battle. With practiced movements, he stepped to the right and leapt up as the other swung his leg out low in a sweeping motion. Making out the series of hand seals the former Kiri-nin was forming was for a water jutsu, Kakashi countered.

It was dark and Kakashi had no idea how much time had passed when movement to his left had him flinging his body back instinctually to evade the wave of water aiming to take off his head. His breaths were coming in short pants and his chakra levels were dangerously low. Other than the glancing blow that made contact with his left side, he was sporting a few shallow cuts. His dark eye peered through the strands of wet silver hair and Kakashi almost sighed at the sight of his barely injured opponent. The other did not look even slightly winded.

Perhaps it was time to use the sharingan. He did not want to, not only because it would leave the other with no qualms about which village he was from but also –

Kakashi was brought out of his musings when Hoshigaki charged at him with a speed that he was surprised the other possessed. Wincing when barbs raked across his torso, Kakashi was barely able to move away from the blow that came after. Hand going to his mask, he wrapped the tips of his fingers around the edges. He was ready to fling it off when a larger calloused hand closed around his.

Shifting so that he could make out the strands of yellow hair through his ANBU mask, Kakashi unconsciously breathed out a sigh of relief. As if he had heard, the older man curled his lips in amusement and withdrew his hand. Kakashi swore that he did not miss the warmth, not at all.

It must be the blood loss. Yes, that must be the reason for the strange tingling on his skin where those fingers were.

His vision blurred. He must have passed out because the last thing he remembered seeing was the blond-haired man clashing with Hoshigaki. When he woke, he was laying flat on his back in the same clearing. He sensed movement and his dark eye flickered up to meet clear blue as the older man knelt beside him silently.

"Kisame escaped," the other imparted before Kakashi felt a hand carefully lifting the fold of his shirt. And then, warmth engulfed him. His sleep-addled mind helpfully informed him that the other was healing him.

But then, why?

They were not teammates. Kakashi did not know the man and had only met him thrice, twice really, because the first time did not exactly count. Hell, he did not even know the other's –

"Name?" There was a rasp in his voice, his throat was dry and there was pain in his calf but he was too curious to care.

The chakra from the other man's hand faded and piercing blue eyes met his. There was a flicker, but it was gone too quickly for Kakashi to decipher what it had meant before those eyes softened.

There was a quiet murmur, "Kurama."

Kurama. Kakashi did not recognise the name. A quick glance at the hair brighter than the Sun and he thought, Namikaze.

Kurama stilled in shock and Kakashi belatedly realised that he must have voiced his thoughts. He was not sure if the other's reaction was a confirmation of his suspicions or not and that made Kakashi want to sigh in frustration. He was not allowed a moment to ponder about it when Kurama ordered firmly, "rest."

As he drifted off, he swore he glimpsed a wistful smile and felt fingers combing through his hair.

It had only been a week since his run-in with Hoshigaki and Kakashi was fully recovered. Once he had woken up, he and Kurama packed up and made their way back to Konoha. During the entire trip, Kakashi had stayed behind the blonde as they leapt from branch to branch. Fixing his eye onto the back of the other's head, he wondered how the other was conveniently around Amegakure when he had been ambushed.

This question, along with a dozen more had been on the tip of his tongue when Kurama tilted his head back and fastened his eyes onto Kakashi.

They swept over his torso before he asked softly, "your wound's not bothering you?"

Kakashi shook his head in the affirmative. Then out of curiosity he asked, "where did you learn medical ninjutsu?"

Kurama hummed before turning his head away to face ahead. There was a pause and Kakashi figured he wasn't going to get an answer when the other spoke again.

"An old teammate taught me the basics. I'm not proficient, but she taught me enough for me to get by."

The rest of the trip was made in silence. It did not bother Kakashi, as he was still trying to piece together the other's identity but to no avail. They were about an hour away from Konoha when Kurama slowed down and came to a stop. Leaping down after the other, Kakashi scanned the area. Why had they stopped?

"Here is where I leave you," Kurama turned around and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"I have a question."

Kurama blinked and inclined his head.

Kakashi tried to keep his voice flat, but emotion laced his words.

"What relations do you have with Namikaze Minato?"

Kakashi had thought about what he wanted to ask the other most, from the identity of his parents to the various S-ranked techniques in the other's arsenal.

Kurama considered the question for a moment, "I am … a relative."

Kakashi scrutinised the other, but his face was carefully blank.

Slowly he nodded. He supposed that he was satisfied with this at the time being.

"I'll see you around then, Kakashi. Don't go fighting anymore swordsmen from the Mist if you can help it."

He almost sputtered at the teasing lilt in the other's voice before he felt a hand drop onto his head and ruffle his hair. A moment later, Kakashi was alone in the forest.

"Kakashi-kun."

Kakashi brought his attention back to the present and looked up.

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

The Third glanced down at the paper in his hands before looking up again. He removed the pipe from his mouth.

"As much as I appreciate your dedication to the village, you need a break."

Blinking, Kakashi opened his mouth to counter but the Hokage held up a hand.

Sarutobi continued, his voice softening, "we are not at war. You have done more than enough, my boy. Take some time off, explore the village and spend some time with your friends."

With that, the Hokage dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

"And don't come back until two weeks from today."

And so Kakashi found himself wandering around the village. He had debated about telling the Hokage about Kurama. Not only was he was a foreign nin capable of entering and exiting Konoha without alerting the guards, his intention towards the village was unknown. Yet, Kakashi sensed no ill will from the other. Kurama did not need to step in during his fight with Hoshigaki, nor did he have to heal Kakashi after. There was an air of melancholy surrounding the man and Kakashi recalled Kurama's sombre tone as he spoke about his teammate. It was unlikely that the man was a threat to Konoha.

Not to mention, he was probably a Namikaze.

His eye lingered on the fourth face carved onto the Hokage Monument before the sounds of laughter made him turn. Kakashi watched as the academy gates were pushed open and twenty or so students rushed out with a skip in their steps. The sight of children steered his thoughts to his sensei's son.

Anyone who had been close to the Yondaime, from his personal guards to his students were banned from interacting with his son. The family name on his birth certificate wasn't even Namikaze, but his mother's name. All to keep him safe from his father's enemies, that was what the Hokage advised.

Kakashi thought grimly, 'what would sensei say if he saw the way his beloved village was treating his own son.'

And Kakashi was no different.

He did not step forward when they decided the fate of his sensei's son. He had stood there with half his face hidden in the shadows and his hands fisted behind his back. Then, he had gone home and cried himself to sleep because even though he did not have the faintest idea of how to care for a child, the guilt that he had not even bothered to try ate away at him.

It was the third day of his break and the third consecutive morning that some part of him had compelled him to perch on a tree branch just outside the orphanage. With nothing to occupy him, Kakashi had taken to the Nara pastime of cloud watching as he peered at the red roofed building from above. A part of him wanted to sneak inside and catch a glimpse of his sensei's son but the rational side of him reminded him of the Hokage's orders. Sighing, Kakashi leaned back.

There was a rustle in the leaves before a pair of feet landed lightly beside him and he felt the branch dip slightly. Having sensed the other's chakra signal from afar, Kakashi briefly wondered what the other wanted and nodded a greeting, "Shiranui."

The older jonin glanced at the direction of the orphanage before turning to him and chuckled, "call me Genma."

Raising his eyebrows at that, Kakashi acquiesced inaudibly.

"And what can I do for you?"

The other did not reply, but had turned his attention back to orphanage in silent contemplation.

Kakashi considered leaving. Just one quick hand seal and he would be gone, on some street on the other side of the village. He had never been the social type but the thought of having to find something else to occupy his time … Kakashi held back a sigh.

Shifting into a more comfortable position, he waited.

"It's stupid how everyone close to the Yondaime are all banned from seeing his son, isn't it?"

Kakashi blinked in confusion and it was a moment before it dawned on him. Genma was one of the Yondaime's personal guards. He was probably by sensei's side more than I was.

Kakashi pinched the bridge of his nose but stopped short of massaging his temples. He could almost feel the imminent headache because he knew exactly what direction this conversation was heading towards.

"Orders are orders."

Genma chewed on the end of his senbon, and Kakashi could almost see the other formulating an answer, an answer that he was not going to like.

Genma challenged him evenly, "even though he is Minato-san's legacy?"

There was an underlying anger as the older man dared Kakashi to deny his duty to Naruto. He could see the displeasure simmering in Genma's hazel eyes, and Kakashi found that he understood exactly what the other was feeling.

Because as much as Kakashi wanted to leap down this tree, march down the pathway leading to the orphanage, blast open that door and retrieve his sensei's bundle of joy, he couldn't … even though he had seen the way Naruto was treated.

He saw how the nannies refused to touch Naruto more than necessary, turning a blind eye and leaving the room when he began to cry. They fled like a demon was after them. They cooed at the other babies, laughing as small hands playfully grabbed at their fingers but they left Naruto alone, throwing frosted glares in his direction when he whined, wanting to be cradled as well.

And as Kakashi witnessed all this with his nails biting into skin, he did not follow his urge to knock them all out and blow the building sky high. He did not wrangle their necks and gut them like fish because sadly, that would do more damage than good.

"It is especially because he is sensei's son that we can't do anything," Kakashi lowered his voice to a murmur, mindful of the various ANBU operatives positioned in the area who would undoubtedly report this back to the Hokage. He implored that the other would understand that Naruto would suffer even more because of their actions. And Kakashi saw the other adopt a contemplative look as the wheels began to turn.

The civilians would isolate Naruto completely and that was the furthest thing Kakashi wanted. Even though he wanted nothing more than take him away, Naruto deserved infinitely better than him. He was virtually always away from the village, either too busy delivering scrolls detailing classified information to some shady character or disembowelling some corrupted political figure in Kumo. Plus, he had never been good with children and his aloofness did nothing to help.

And right now, he was a mess. He could barely keep his life together and some nights, it felt as though everything was on the verge of toppling over. But he owed it to his sensei and his team to at least consider it. After all, they were the ones to teach him that those who break the rules were trash but those who abandon their teammates were worse than scum.

Soft chuckles filled the air and Kakashi was brought back from his reverie.

"We can't do anything now … but that might change tomorrow, or the day after."

Kakashi turned to look at the other and found no trace of his previous anger, only thoughtfulness and a touch of mischief. He was glad the other was back to his old self because although he was not close to the tokubetsu jonin, Kakashi had never seen Genma so aggravated.

A hand clapped him on the back and Kakashi nearly fell forward in surprise.

"Visit the jonin station sometime. Don't think I haven't noticed that you have never stepped foot into the place."

The silver-haired jonin blanched and Genma grinned.

"Don't be such a stranger, Kakashi."

"Who said–"

"Hm? Did you say something?"

And with a wave of his hand, Genma left, though not before ruffling Kakashi's hair.

Kakashi fought back a good-natured sigh as he smoothed out his hair.

Dusting the back of his pant leg as he stood up, Kakashi gave the orphanage one last look before he turned to leave. A flicker of a smile graced his features and Kakashi allowed himself to be hopeful again.

Disappearing in the next moment, his presence was erased but for the few leaves that fluttered to the ground, as well as an unspoken promise to the infant who was all alone in the world.

'One day, I'll take you away from that damned place.'