Hello there! This is a Yaoi, boyxboy fic set in the past, just to clear up any possible confusion. It's rated M for language in this chapter and for possible "citrus-flavored adult situations" in later chapters. PLEASE please please review! This is my first solo Naruto fic so I would reeaaaly appriciate it! Also, I've been known to be motivated to write more if I see those wonderful reviews sitting in my e-mail inbox. *this chapter took 3 week to write. Why? Because I procrastinated, ladies and gentlemen!
And remember this is the set up to the rest so don't judge it too harshly, 8D. Also, review to tell me if you like this idea and want me to keep going with it becuase I started writing on a whim (with prior mental planning, o'course!)
Enjoy!
-Hatake Maara
Mismatched eyes scanned the horizon. He could feel her—feel the gently pulsating chakra—quivering every time she thought she heard something. He signaled to the longhaired ANBU next to him, telling her to ease up. As she turned to look at him, her armor glinted, instantly revealing her position to him. She was new and this was her first mission of this type. He could hear her breathing from his position, it was mingled with the calls of birds and gurgle of a nearby creek—but it was there nonetheless. Any louder and the dishwater blond ANBU would give away their location. Kakashi couldn't allow that.
The air, which filtered though his mask with every breath, was fresh and filled with moisture, a signature feature of the summer forest. The thick woodland and lush greenery was a trademark of the Land of Fire, but if Kakashi strained his Sharingan enough, he could see a faint outline of the grassy plains that Kusagakure was recognized for. They were lucky to receive this mission at the time they did. Any later and the target would've already crossed the border. Making it increasingly difficult to execute the deed.
Gradually, the mark moved, taking cautioned steps towards the threshold of the forest. The Copy ninja raised his hand almost automatically and made three small circles in the air, barely visible to his partner through the thick shrubbery. A cloud moved somewhere and the midday sun suddenly came streaming through the canopy, bathing nearby lotus flowers in brilliant, yellow light. After a small nod of understanding, the other ANBU moved in silently. Three small circles meant surround and attack.
Kakashi's Sharingan pupil dilated, not noticeable through the holes of his ANBU mask. He suddenly leaped down from his perch, landing inches from where the target stood. Before she could even double take at the silver haired shinobi, he shot up behind her, holding her with one arm and raising the silver, three-thronged kunai, to her neck with the other—the edge drawing blood. This was the kunai that his old sensei had given him. The yellow-haired ninja had given it to him as a gift for his promotion to jonin—at the age of thirteen—four years ago.
A lifetime ago.
His partner emerged from the foliage, her hair catching the rays of the filtered sunlight, and revealing the natural high and low lights of her fine hair.
"Can you confirm it's her, Komachi-kohai?" Kakashi asked. He went ahead and used her name—something that wasn't to be done on ANBU mission, especially one in the A-class category. But he didn't care. This criminal would be dead soon. The ANBU hesitated slightly, probably because of hearing her real name, not the one assigned to her. Komachi's eyes narrowed, scarcely perceptible through the eyeholes of her red-and-white tiger mask. She took a step toward the rouge kunoichi and used her needle to lift the short sleeve of her lavender kimono up, revealing a gaping scar on the missing nin's shoulder, stretched and white with age.
"Oblong scar on her left shoulder, scratched Amegakure hitai-ate, dark brown hair—chin length—wrecked purple kimono," Komachi began, eyeing the rips in the rich cloth, most likely caused by enemy attacks. She could see the scared, pale skin underneath, "What kind of scum are you, Ami-bitch?" She looked back at Kakashi. "It's her. I recognize her from the border, as well. Watanabe Ami, that's your name right, lowlife ninja?" Komachi whispered, turning to look at the anxious women, "you picked the wrong village to mess with."
Kakashi nodded slightly, bringing his lips closer to Ami's ear, "This is what happens when you murder twenty-two of Konoha's civilians," he murmured, pressing the throwing knife against the insipid skin of the kunoichi's neck and carving smoothly to the left. Ami's head lolled backwards, the warm blood spilling out onto Kakashi's gloved hand and he let go, the limp body thudding as it hit the floor. Mission accomplished.
Kakashi stepped back with his head tilted, analyzing the woman for a second, and then he lifted his eyes to look at Komachi. She was looking down at the body, her expression unreadable form behind her mask.
"Shouldn't we have taken her back for interrogation?" she inquired, still glancing at the dead missing nin.
"Why should we?" shrugged Kakashi, "We already know everything. Who she was; why she did it; what she knows; where she's from. Sarutobi-sama said there was no need to. We do need to take the body back though, so the medical-nin can dispose of it," he answered, beginning to load the former kunoichi onto his shoulder.
"Right," she responded quietly, filing in behind her sempai.
They walked back east, leaving a grassy, blood-stained clearing in their wake.
Kakashi fumbled with the lock on his door. The silver doorknob had caught on something and would refuse to turn all the way. The rattling could be heard throughout the wooden halls of the jonin apartments, the sound echoing off the walls and up the spiral staircase. His hair shone bright silver in the light from the skylight up above, and he stopped messing with the knob for a second to swish his hair out of his eyes with his hand.
The seventeen-year-old stared at the lock with intensity and decided to give up on salvaging it. He held fingers to the lock and unleashed a small stream of charged chakra—or chidori—though the metal until he found the right piece of metal. Then he flooded the handle with the crackling chakra until it gave. Only charred remains were left behind.
He made certain to replace it later.
Kakashi stepped into the jonin condo, closing the door gently behind him. The apartment was simply decorated; most of the furniture was black, with a few wooden ones thrown in for convenience's sake. He slipped off his ninja boots and walked across the tatami mats, striding past the little cove of a kitchen—complete with clean, white appliances and a small dinner table low on the ground next to it, and with a single red cushion next to it. He almost never had anybody over, after all.
Maneuvering his way around the coffee table, Kakashi plopped down on the couch, discarding his katana sword and ANBU armor on the floor next to him. He left his mask on the side of his head, keeping his unruly hair from falling over his eyes. The scrolls and various weapons on the coffee table stared back at him, hoping to be read or sharpened. Later, he promised. He was tired from the mission, which had involved five days of tracking the troublesome kunoichi, plus another two of simply waiting for the right moment to attack. She had to be away from any villages, but within the Land of Fire's borders.
A faint rumble reverberated the living room, originating from his abdomen. Kakashi hadn't eaten much in the last day and a half, merely because he was sick of the food pills and food packets that ANBU lived on during missions. He needed real food. But not before a good rest. Reaching behind him, his fingers found the ON button of the nearby radio and turned it to the right. The station was static for a few seconds before it found the signal.
"…reported an incident in the red-light district of Konoha. Four remains were found behind an old warehou—" Next station.
"Witnesses confirm seeing a man in an unidentifiable hitai-ate, his face hidden by the shadows. The four bodies belong to—" Next station.
"…bodies of two men and two female prostitutes were found two days ago in West Konohagakure, authorities confirm that the incident is under investigation by the Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai, or more commonly referred to as the ANBU. A local villager stated she was—" Kakashi snapped the knob backwards, shutting off the reporter's voice.
The Copy ninja let out a long sigh, leaning backwards until he was lying down and looking at the fan above him. The fan was making slow, languid rotations, a blade coming in and out of his vision every few seconds.
All he wanted to listen to was some music. But these days the only things the public cared about were death and the latest catastrophe. Apparently, they assumed things like that would never—ever—happen to them, so they wanted to stick their noses everywhere.
Until it did.
And then they suddenly snapped out of their specious reverie.
His thoughts left his apartment as he remembered the years of the Third Great Shinobi War. Kakashi grew up in ongoing devastation and upheaval, and he recalled the time when the last thing villagers wanted to hear was the most recent murder, or the new trend in homicides. All they wanted was music or some other form of entertainment; a way to detach themselves from the bleak reality they existed in. And the ironic part was that the silver haired shinobi did not notice this until a couple years ago, when the public took on this new perversion. Even as he fought and lived on the battlefield itself, he never knew that all he really wanted was to get away.
And then his memories took a different path. He was running. Running alongside a road that he didn't recognize. Kakashi only knew what he was running away from. Half of a broken face faded into his vision. Bloodied, but young, and the visible eye closed.
Obito.
He felt a small hand on his shoulder, and he knew without looking that it was Rin. The image faded and he was still running. Then he realized that this wasn't a memory, but a desire from years ago. When he just wanted to break away from the carnage, from the loneliness. From the deepening pit that was full of isolation, but void of feeling—emotion.
The blade of a fan wiped his thoughts away and he was pulled back into veracity. Kakashi's eyes wandered from the ceiling and down upon a calendar on a nearby wall. It was a simple one with the dates in big, blocky letters in a downward fashion. No pictures or illustrations.
The calendar read 21st, June. The twenty-first of June. A small, but sharp inhalation could be heard in the silence.
Five years ago, on this day, Uchiha Obito was killed.
Half a decade ago.
His feet moved first—seemingly on their own accord—and his body followed until Kakashi stood at the doorway to his small abode. He didn't realize where he was going until his hand touched the charred handle. The ANBU exhaled.
Yes, he most definitely needed to go there. Right after he ate something to calm his stomach, which at this moment was moaning and groaning for nourishment.
The ninja slipped on his navy blue boots and his green jonin vest, which hung from a nearby hook, replacing the empty hook with his ANBU mask. Then he pushed on the door—lock and handle rendered useless by his chidori—and walked out, his steps making almost no sound as they came down the stairs.
The silence had long since died away and had given away to the chatter of crowds of friends, families, and couples out for a late lunch. Kakashi had walked from his apartment to the main street of the village, where many popular stores and restaurants were located. He decided to walk down the paved street until he saw something he felt like eating.
The shinobi passed numerous stores and stands, shooing away various salesmen and employees looking to draw customers in to their stores. A curious scent caught his nose and he lifted his head, the black fabric of his mask stretching and letting more air in.
Kakashi soon traced the scent to the Ichiraku Ramen Bar. A favorite of his since it opened seven years ago.
Lifting the banners up, he ducked and went into the little eatery and found a seat on the far left. As he waited for Chef Teuchi, he looked around the place, beginning to count the number of red tiles on the wall.
He was on number nineteen when he felt a small tugging on his sleeve. Looking down, he leaned over the counter and saw a small girl—no more then five years old—with sleek brown hair in bangs and brown eyes that looked as if they were the size of melons. She was dressed in an oversized white apron and had a crème-colored bandana holding her hair up.
"Sumi masen, excuse me, shinobi-san. Would you like to order?" she asked in a small, but confidant voice. Acting as if she had been doing this job for years.
The little girl lifted herself on her toes to get a better look at her customer.
Kakashi smile, his mask molding to the new expression.
"What's your name shōjo-chan, little girl?" he mused kindly, craning his neck slightly so he could see her and vise-versa.
The girl's mouth lifted at the corners into a smile and answered "Ayame! My father owns the restaurant!"
Kakashi nodded, still smiling, "And is it your first day here?"
Ayame's expression brightened, "Nope! I've been working here for three days now!" she replied, pride leaking into her voice. "Papa said that I could help with the dishes but I wanted to take orders from the—"
"Ayame! I told you to stay by the dishes! The sink is nearly full now, and there isn't going to be anymore room if you don't come back here!" Teuchi appeared from the right, through an entranceway. His eyes fell on Kakashi and his eyes widened.
"But papa! I want to help you with the customers!"
"I told you! You're too young, now go clean the dishes," Teuchi said in an intense whisper.
Ayame nodded and walked dejectedly out of sight. Teuchi scurried over to Kakashi, who was still sitting and waiting, "Oh, I'm sorry Kakashi-kun! I brought my daughter here, thinking she would help me around the place. But to tell you the truth, she's been more trouble then help."
"No, no, don't worry. She was just trying to take my order."
"Okay, if you say so. So what would you like to eat, Kakashi-kun? It's been a while since you've eaten here!"
Kakashi chuckled slightly, "Yeah, it has."
After an incredibly satisfying lunch, the shinobi exited the ramen bar and began walking toward Training Ground 3. It would take at least half an hour to get there by foot, and he didn't feel like transporting there.
It was late afternoon now and he could smell the mingling scents of housewives cooking and getting dinner ready. The sky was still bright and cloudless, the sun battering the villagers relentlessly. Hoards of people were still out and about, trying to squeeze the most out of their weekend. Children ran around in the steady stream of people, playing games and shopping for toys and errands. Up ahead he could see a group of genin—giddy and full of unused chakra—chattering away in a group of eleven.
As he moved farther south, he began to enter the more upscale part of town. The children gradually disappeared, replaced by teens younger and older then him. A cluster of green vests—chunins—began to pass by in a small trickle, trying to enjoy the time off from missions.
A girl passed in front of him, she was about sixteen—maybe a little younger. At first he just glanced over her, but then his exposed eye focused on her as she stopped at a little stand at the corner. She examined the selection, her back turned to him. Kakashi hadn't seen her face but his feet halted as he took in her overall appearance. She was shorter then him—about five or six inches shorter. Her hair was a dark, chestnut brown, simply styled and slightly above shoulder length. The kunoichi's straight hair glistened and shone in the light of the sun, turning a million beautiful shades of brown. She wore a long-sleeved black shirt and no green vest—though she was obviously a chunin. And at her waist hung a pink skirt, splitting up the sides and revealing the black leggings underneath.
Kakashi suddenly inhaled harshly, realizing he hadn't been breathing.
Impossible…
Slowly, without his approval or acknowledgement, his feet carried him closer to the ninja, stopping about half a foot behind her. Images of his old teammate flooded his mind, overwhelming his thoughts. Her smile; her radiant, gleaming brown eyes. The way she cared for him and her team. Her voice, which he could always find comfort in; calming, soft and filled with emotion.
Rin.
He knew it couldn't be true. It wasn't her. But even if it wasn't, he still wanted to talk to the kunoichi; help her; do anything he could for her.
The sliver haired jonin ordered his feet to move, but before the indolent command could arrive, the girl turned, slamming right into his chest.
Kakashi didn't even look down, he just felt the girl move back, trying to figure out why this wall had suddenly appeared. The silver haired shinobi's gaze trailed down. The chunin looked up, her blue-green eyes meeting a single, widened dark one.
"Oh crap! Sorry about that! I really didn't see you there I didn't mean to—" she trailed off, her stare more intent now, and her mouth left in a little 'O'.
But a jaded look had already returned to Kakashi's own stare, his psyche shattering into reality. He immediately suppressed all emotion, knowing fully well that he was crazy to think that this could look any more like Rin then she already did. This kunoichi had eyes the color of the sea, always morphing between vibrant green and soft blue. She was beautiful—there was no doubt of that—but those eyes didn't belong to Rin. His old teammate's eyes were a honeyed shade of brown.
Kakashi's swift thought process ended on a small note of disappointment and remorse. He noticed that the girl was still staring with a sense of awe. She blinked rapidly, seemingly pulled herself out of a reverie. The jonin noted that she wasn't looking at his masked face, but at the white mop of hair above it.
"You…you're…are you Copy Ninja Kakashi?" she inquired, her expression still slightly shocked.
"Are you alright?" Kakashi asked quite lamely. He should've asked that when he first bumped into her. He pretended he hadn't said anything. "Yeah, I'm Hatake Kakashi. Sorry about that, I was reading the banner and I didn't see you there…" he apologized, rubbing his the back of his neck and giving a Kakashi-esque smile.
"No-no-no-no! It's my fault I should've seen where I was going. I—uh, I," she paused for a bit, thinking about something, "I'm Nishimura Kimiko. Just in case you ever…yeah. I'm really sorry about that, uh…have a nice day-bye!"
The ANBU watched as Kimiko hurried off down the street and around the corner, dropping and then picking up a few groceries.
Kimiko…"child with no equal"… can't get more ironic then that, huh.
Kakashi headed off in a different direction; with a new location in mind, thinking about what the kunoichi would say to her friends about him.
The silver haired ANBU veered to the east, not that far from his original destination. Seeing that young kunoichi reminded him of something, and it would bother him until he satisfied it.
Kakashi picked up the pace as the hoards of people began trickling away. He was nearing the quieter part of town, not many people were out here on the weekend. Only those visiting lost loved ones.
The shinobi passed the white gated of the cemetery, hundreds of uniform, white tombstones beginning to come into view. The only exception was the giant stone at the far bar of the graveyard. A sculpted flame. This was the place where everyone eventually went to rest, that is if his or her body could be found. An older couple passed by him and he acknowledged them with a small nod. They weren't crying, or sniffling, but the expression on their faces was one only wielded by those who have just experienced the unforgiving reality of death. Vacant, soulless eyes and lips in a nearly perfect line. Not smiling or frowning.
He unconsciously looked to where they were coming from, and saw a fresh, pearl white stone shining blatantly in the sun. The Copy Nin walked closer and read the newly engraved lettering, barely visible under the impressive amount of flowers and incense.
大神かおり Oogami Kaori
His life was taken on the 18th of June
Beloved son, husband and wonderful father.
The eighteenth of June, only a few days ago. Kakashi thought back to what the reporter on the radio was saying, "bodies of two men and two female prostitutes were found two days ago"…was he one of the victims?
For a minute he almost wished he had left the radio on, just to hear the names of the ones murdered. The jonin shook the thought away and continued to walk along the rows of white rectangles. Kakashi stopped. Sixth row, fifth one to the right, he thought instinctively, stopping at a particular stone. A single, wilting flower lay on the stone.
The masked shinobi lowered himself down to his knees, his calloused fingers reaching out to trace the kanji that had been reaping havoc in his mind for the last year and three months.
りん
Rin
Kakashi had lost track of time long ago, but judging by the position of the sun, it was about four in the afternoon. Two hours of just sitting there. The teenager hadn't even been talking to her. He just sat, for what seemed like a few minutes, but had stretched out for much longer then that.
The jonin walked along the outskirts of Konohagakure, passed trails and paths, which led to different villages, training grounds, and other houses. A sign read Training Grounds 3 & 4. And he turned left.
After passing numerous trees and lush vegetation, he arrived at a too familiar clearing. The sun had dipped down a little farther, causing the shadows of the forest to stretch and cover more then half the little field. Kakashi strode across the grass, feet dragging carelessly until he reached a black rock, glinting in the afternoon light. His dark eye fell upon the many kanji, stating the names of many Konoha ninja, who had died in battle; whose bodies had never been recovered.
The jonin found the name he was looking for. It was towards the top of the stone, on the left.
It was the name of Obito, his former teammate. His best friend, his rival and one of the most important people in his life. Even though he never realized any of this until the very end, he still felt obligated to come here. Just to let his friend know how his day went, or to tell him sorry for the umpteenth time. It had become a routine, coming here everyday he could, even if it meant keeping others waiting. But today was a special day, not as special as Obito's birthday, but special nonetheless.
Obito…it's been a while hasn't it? But not much has happened. Oh, I visited Rin today…I saw this one girl at a shop she looked so much like her. Same kind of clothing and the same hair…remember Rin's hair, Obito? How it glowed in the sun…
Kakashi continued to tell Obito about his encounter and his recent mission. Now that he thought about it, he realized how eventful that last week and a half had been to him. The jonin wondered how he was able to talk to Obito so much, even on the days were nothing had happened. Something always managed to pop into his head when the time came.
Time went on without him while he told his old friend about his mission, the sun had dipped even lower into the sky, and he guess it was about five o' clock.
And the way Komachi-san looked at me when I said that…I felt like—
Time stopped and the shinobi turned around. Someone was near.
He felt their chakra reverberating in his core, flexing and dimming as if the intruder had just used up a decent amount of it. He wasn't even sure it was an intruder. Hell, it could even be a couple chunin training—after all, he hadn't set the sign to 'Occupied' when he entered. The Copy ninja didn't think he would be in there too long.
But the chakra nearby felt…strange. It felt like it was winding down from a battle, but it was pulsing strongly at the same time as if it were molding, shifting…
Kakashi turned towards the source. It had intrigued him and he wanted to find out what it was. At most, it could be a couple students trying out new techniques. The shadows of the trees stretched even more—becoming thinning lines across the clearing—making the surrounding woodland darker. The breeze grew cold and the chatter of evening birds sounded in the distance. The ground was littered with leaves and twigs that fell during past storms and windy days. The shinobi unconsciously avoided stepping on them, making his steps smooth and quietly.
The teenager pulled aside the leaves of a bush slowly. The chakra signal was stronger then ever; it was much closer. The bush moved out of his vision and he began to see the outline of a person, seemingly sitting on the ground. Kakashi put his head in the opening, making sure he was still out of the stranger's sight. His breaths came slowly and deeply as he examined the one before him. The man looked to be in his early twenties, with slicked back, white locks of hair similar to his own—it's length just below the ear. The outsider's exposed torso was akin to the color of a porcelain doll, light and smooth, the planes of his muscles catching the yellow gold glow of the sun. Beads of water flowed down and over those planes. And a soaked forehead protector lay discarded on the cool grass. Kakashi deducted that the man had been in the creek that wasn't far from here. The forehead protector had three diagonal lines in the center. The Copy Ninja narrowed his eyes. He didn't recognize that symbol. Either this ninja had come from a brand new village—which was unlikely, or was part of an old village that had been destroyed. The latter was far more likely since many small shinobi villages were decimated in the war. Still, that thought would bother him until he found out for sure.
Kakashi moved closer, wanting to further investigate this foreigner. There were several things about him that we interesting and if he could just get closer…
"You know, I can see you there."
The Konoha jonin whipped his head up, his gaze landing on bright magenta eyes. He froze instinctively, his left leg extended mid-stride. He stayed quiet.
"Listen I don't care if you fucking watch or whatever you're up to there, as long as you stay quiet and quit fucking moving okay? Who the hell do you think you are anyway, interrupting my prayer? Seriously…" the stranger said, his voice dark and velvety as it echoed across the trees and vegetation.
Kakashi blinked, his exposed eye still staring into the magenta ones across the small clearing. His breath was shorter now, but still controlled filtering in and out through the fabric of his mask.
"Jashin, you're a rude little shit, aren't ya? At least say 'hello', or 'what's up' or 'I'm sorry for fucking interrupting you,' seriously. Whatever. As if it matters. I'm almost fucking done anyway," the man continued, now beginning to stand up. He reached into the shadows and grabbed a tall, three-blade scythe that Kakashi had not noticed until now. The man turned and began to walk away from the silver-haired jonin.
"Wa-wait!" Kakashi called, his mouth moving on it's own accord. He regained his composure, straightening his posture and returning an impassive look to his eye. "What are you…why are you here? Who are you? If you're a danger to this village, I'll have to—"
"Alright, alright, calm the hell down. I'm Hidan, brat. That's all I'm gonna fucking tell you, because I'm tired and wanna go. If you wanna know more, wait till another fucking time, alright? Seriously, you don't just go around and hammer people with questions. I mean, what the hell?" Hidan retorted, whipping around. He threw a "later" over his shoulder and then he was gone, having transported in a quiet poof.
Kakashi watched that spot for several more seconds then looked at the ground. Three diagonal lines glistened back at him in the fading light.
*ooooh, mini cliff-hanger of doom! (not really)*