He was born to the frantic beeping of machinery and a swarm of med-nin with more important priorities than calming the screaming newborn. After being loosely wrapped in a blanket, the child was almost immediately handed off to his distraught father.

The man stopped his agitated pacing and looked over his son's pudgy features, before snapping his head up as the heart monitor suddenly flat-lined.

The rest of his day was spent being jostled in the arms of a grieving husband as he filled out paperwork for the baby and forms for the funeral arrangements. Between the many piles of mind-numbing work and calming a panicky newborn, the White Fang of Konoha absentmindedly scrawled "Hatake Kakashi" on the birth certificate before setting the paper aside for the next document.

By the time Kakashi was old enough to semi-steadily toddle through the Hatake compound on his own two feet, he was already considered a bit of a genius.

"It's all in the genes." His father bragged to the occasional visitor of the two-person household. Omitting the fact that between the many high level missions he took on a regular basis, Sakumo also taught took advantage of Kakashi's intellect to teach his son vital skills and tricks to surviving ninja life.

(possibly more than anyone else, he was well aware of the dangers that came with having a famous ninja for a relative)

Kakashi thrived off of his father's approval. He was his hero and idol - one who occasionally came down from his unreachable position at the top, and passed down his well-earned knowledge to his son, despite the many mistakes Kakashi made while learning.

Which is why it came as such a surprise when his father returned home from the storm of missions and ninja life, choosing to remain in the eye of the hurricane with Kakashi, rather than answer his call to arms.

Those days, the silence in the Hatake compound grew into a tangible thing that could be felt deep in his bones. The only reminder of the presence of another person were the glimpses of pale hair that flashed mockingly from around corners.

Following his usual schedule, Kakashi jogged home after another dull day attending the Academy. He ignored the stares fromcivilians and ninja alike and slammed open the gate leading to the Hatake compound.

With his keen nose, Kakashi followed the smell of rust into another one of the rarely used rooms in the house. The library door was propped open, and he hesitated before walking in, only to see the unmoving body sprawled in the middle of the hardwood floor. Blood from the tanto protruding out of his abdomen had already soaked into his clothing and left stains on the flooring.

-his father was-

-his father had-

Kakashi stared numbly at the scene, carefully regulating his breathing, while his world crumbled and burned like so many of the target dummies he regularly destroyed during training sessions.

Eventually, a few patrolling ANBU, sensing the strange fluctuations in his chakra signature, came in and dispatched a few clones before collecting the body.

Kakashi was left kneeling in the library, where he continued regulating his breathing and looking blankly at the dried puddles of blood. The rust had long seeped into the floor-boards.

The first time Kakashi went outside for errands (after putting off the inevitable for several weeks) he returned to the familiar compound within the span of several minutes and vomited directly into the sink. Without his father as a shield, the piercing stares were much harder to ignore.

He couldn't help but remember the swords those people - strangers, really - casually entered into his heart with each suspicious look and offhand comment concerning his father's current status.

(he tried very hard not to think that word they tended to repeat over and over again: dead)

(it didn't work very well)

But above all, Kakashi was a prodigy. Skilled, talented, and used to exceeding his own limits - let alone those that unimportant strangers imposed upon him. Kakashi chose to be swift as lightning, crackling with untamed energy, and an undercurrent of wild need.

Though they mocked him and whispered ("You'll end up worse than that coward Sakumo, that traitor.") he took those words into his shrinking heart and imprinted them upon his skin. Kakashi used the insults they threw at him and ran farther with them, turning sharp words into sharper blades, honing them to a deadly point.

And the deaths that cycled on repeat in his head and the cuts he received from freshly sharpened kunai and shuriken and a few of the enemy-nin that managed to get past the on-duty guards never quite reached as bone-deep as those stabbing remarks.

Because no matter what Kakashi did, that disgusted look never left the eyes of strangers who shouldn't even matter -

At the tender age of five (less than a year after his father's death), Kakashi traded in his simple title of Academy student for an official Konoha headband and the newly-received rank of genin.

The confirmation of his official ninja status satisfied him only momentarily. This was only the first of a series of steps to be taken. As long as Kakashi lived by the Shinobi Rules:

He would serve the village to his greatest capacity.

He would improve and grow in strength and power.

He would not end up a part of his father's disgraced, failed legacy.

He would not be a coward, relying on others to stop his fall.

Because he was nothing like him and never would be.

We'll call this piece how to screw up Kakashi's characterization 101 (this wasn't even meant to give me as much trouble as it did, but finally! this chapter is done and i'm so happy)

Thanks for reading :) Reviews are greatly appreciated!