Disclaimer: The writer does not own Naruto or any characters from the series. Kishimoto-dono has property rights over that. She- the writer- however, takes ownership of the of the story plot and any original character in this Fanfiction article.

Enjoy! (C:)

A is for ANBU
by: Bakunawa

He'd be breaking a rule or two that much he knew. 'Babies are not allowed in office building', that's already a basic office law, if not common knowledge, and most especially when your involved in shinobi affairs. These little tykes are noisy, smelly and required every bit of your attention. You can't work properly, let alone finish anything with such a thing sitting right beside you; not to mention disturbing the peace within the office.

So why on earth had the great Copy Ninja thought it was okay to bring his 7-month-old daughter to an ANBU meeting?

If he ever got caught—not that he was discrete about carrying a baby around—he would likely blame it on the local day-care center for closing on holidays. He'd probably point a finger at his own wife for hastily leaving him this morning with another man (It was a 12-year-old genin sent by the Hokage actually— nothing to worry about). He'd charge himself guilty for being a bit too paranoid about leaving his only child in the hands of competent, trusted, yet overly-friendly nurses at his wife's workplace. Or he should have called or maybe dropped by his mother-in-law's house for a little favor— but then he belatedly remembered the woman was out of town for the holidays, right when he was knocking on her door.

And so there he was, arriving an hour early at the gates of ANBU HQ—fatherhood had degraded him this much; lolling an infant in one arm, a bright lavender bag of baby necessities on the other and his mask hanging loose around his neck. Yes, life was just great…

One quirk his baby Hotaru had developed was an overt abhorrence of his black mask. She would cry, scream, throw her bottle at him whenever it was present on his face, but would act otherwise, staring at him with wide beryl-green eyes as if he was a long lost favorite toy if it wasn't.

Sakura had once explained that their little angel, like every other baby on this earth, has very little to no insight of the world around them. What they see in front of them are the only things that exist to them, take it away and they'd forget about it entirely. In another sense: one moment daddy would be holding her, bring up the mask and he was replaced by a whole other person; a stranger. And baby Hotaru doesn't like strangers. No she doesn't.

And thus he would have to make do without the mask for today. He had done it before but, for some reason he could not fathom, people had been ogling and giving them second-glances more than usual as he and his baby walked down the street towards ANBU headquarters.

Was it so peculiar for a dad to hold his child?

Maybe he wasn't carrying her right or perhaps she pooped without him knowing… but that's impossible! How could he have missed that when he had the capacity to hold a fight while reading Icha Icha at the same time?

And fecal matters do smell much too strong to go unnoticed.

The HQ personnel had been acting strange too. He might understand it was uncommon (meaning: never before in history) to bring a gibbering infant to this place but it shouldn't cause a sudden standstill to the usually over-preoccupied office either. Clerks and ANBU operatives alike had been stumbling on their steps in front of him and when he asked if they were alright, they just gawked at him; faces flushed.

Really, if they weren't feeling that well, they should have gone home. Work can't be effective when you're already falling on your feet with a fever.

No, it must be the mask, Kakashi reasoned, leaving the scene quickly and without as much as another look to the others.

Indeed, only a few had ever seen the Copy Ninja without it but that shouldn't have been the cause for tripping on your own words at a new sight. They're all supposed to be skilled shinobi for crying out loud! Where's the professionalism? Then again, he wasn't being professional either.

But even Ibiki had simply raised an eyebrow and stalked off to somewhere. Now that's a guy everybody should look up to! A creepy and sadistic man but a good man nonetheless. And the notorious interrogator didn't even reprimand him for bringing a baby to the office— which is a bit odd...

But who was Kakashi to complain when he could get away with it?

And so the Copy Nin merrily (as one who barely slept at all) went on his way, down to the dark labyrinth of the lower levels of the building. The fair-haired bundle of misfit had been hushed and restrained, clinging tightly on his vest and flinching at every little thing and every little sound, so unlike the restless little midget he had known her to be. The dim-lighted dreary corridors with its history of grim and blood and howling screams just gave out that sinister air for even innocent unaware children understand enough that they did not belong there. Countless of times he had passed these same hallways at a younger age and if he ever felt the same foreboding, Kakashi could not recall. He could just imagine how it was for his little Hotaru.

The briefing room was a safe haven for both father and child, it turned out. With no more strangers to bother them, the snowy-haired baby soon piped up, squealing and giggling on his lap, staring at everything around with curiosity swimming in her big eyes and trying to escape at the process.

A small smile played on Kakashi's face when her interest turned to a neglected broken mask on the nearby table. It's amazing how an infant could keep an attention span similar to a goldfish's, he ruminated but reconsidered his thoughts when he realized that it was the parents who had to keep thinking of ways to occupy the tykes or otherwise face disaster.

The Copy Ninja took the mask and playfully waved it back and forth barely out of her reach. Hotaru followed it with her head though. Then suddenly she squeaked, "Pa' ung! Pa' ung!"

Kakashi's single exposed eye widened. He stared at the cracked porcelain then at his daughter. "It's a dog mask," he said, "you think it's Pakkun?"

"Pa' ung! Gaah!" was the garbled reply; tiny hands reaching out for the desired object.

It hadn't been her first word but it only shows how at just seven months Hotaru was already displaying potential far more than the average. Kakashi silently praised his young girl for brilliantly associating the dog mask with Pakkun the dog. It made his heart flutter with pride. Now if only he could teach her to say the pug's name right; then perhaps, when she's old enough, he might teach her the Summoning technique or if Hotaru chose slugs over dogs, then it would be Sakura's job.

The father sighed. Within a few years she will be talking full sentences, walking, then running all over the place, he thought, a bit mellow, then she'll be attending the Academy. She won't be a child any longer by that time.

That thought made his smile falter. As much as he wanted those hands to remain small so he could always encompass them fully in his own or those green eyes, wide and bright so they could always stare up at him with a mixture of awe and curiosity or how the way she strongly smelled of milk, baby powder with a tang very much like his wife, one day he knew he would have to give her up to this irreversible thing called Growing Up.

Hatake Kakashi could almost see it right in front of him: a little white-haired young lady, who is a splitting image of her mother, donning the village insignia on her head, waving her farewell as she ran out of the door. He pictured her training with her own team, meeting them for missions at the bridge or maybe, if she ever decided to take on ANBU, she would be sitting right on the very spot he was now, in this very room, discussing the courses of action with her captain and teammates.

It didn't help that they were already inside one of ANBU's more overt base of operation and Kakashi could just imagine another version of Hotaru, years older and a newly assigned ANBU. The Black Ops required the most talented and most thorough of shinobi. The organization was sometimes even viewed as a rank above jounin. With the viciousness and grimness of its operations, how could it not? It wouldn't be too surprising either if Hotaru later on found it an opportunity to prove herself and join. The Copy Ninja was certain, he had thought of it once himself.

Although it might seem very unlikely, considering the frail diminutive person currently sitting on his lap, struggling to reach for the mask and beginning to drool in his hands. Her lively disposition certainly did not seem well-suited for ANBU. Too bouncy. Too happy. Too bubbly and cute even— but still it was a possibility and Kakashi, of course, would be no less than proud of his daughter.

Or maybe she'd walk a path similar to her mother's, the ninja father's thoughts ventured on, Hotaru might find the medical aspect of being a ninja more interesting and worth pursuing.

And he found himself preferring the idea of his daughter with the capabilities to preserve life and value it than take it away. Kakashi smiled again, brushing a hand through his daughter's thin light hair. Hotaru looked very much like Sakura— in a smaller, rounder, pudgier kind of way, but in a few years the similarities would be uncanny.

She certainly acts like her mother too, especially with her fists. She'll definitely grow up to be like her mother; tenaciously caring and compassionate…

He paused in his thoughts.

Then again, even if she becomes a medic nin, she would still be first and foremost a ninja— a soldier trained to be a weapon.

The Hatake father suddenly felt unsettled by his own musing. What made him think there was any lesser evil in this line of work? Whichever way she'd take— and since she has shinobi for both parents, she would likely end up as one— eventually those tiny hands would have to hold a weapon, coated and stained, and those beryl orbs won't be so vivid and pure anymore.

And Kakashi's heart suddenly felt heavier.

The Copy Ninja had seen it before; been through it. So very often children of the hidden village had been pushed into circumstances that even though they were well prepped up by mentors, they weren't yet ready yet. Their eyes had always turned a shade darker whenever they realize that the world wasn't how they thought it was and that everything they knew before was just playtime.

But Kakashi, to be honest with himself, never tried to consider that losing innocence-- children suddenly struck by the cruel reality of the world too soon for their liking was something to consider.

Well... maybe he might have had once or twice... with his own genin team but Naruto, Sakura and especially the last Uchiha had managed well on their own, to say the least, with little help from him. He had sympathized with them, tried what he could but in the end they were soldiers and everything was just part of the job.

And for Sharingan no Kakashi, he had never even known he was innocent once himself to begin with. He had been born in a time of war and he and everybody at that time had had a more complicated situation that they never appreciated the simplicity and joy of childhood. But they'd all gone on well in their lives because it was just how things were.

It was their way of living— the Ninja Way of Life.

It's an irrevocable cycle and it wouldn't be any different for this generation. It shouldn't be. The cycle was inescapable but somehow that idea including Hotaru caused a tightening in his chest more than he cared to admit.

And Kakashi couldn't quite figure out why.

He suddenly snapped back to reality when his blanch- haired offspring almost slipped out of his grip. He should have paid more attention but for one moment he thought Hotaru had forgotten all about the mask and stayed put, she made a dive for it without fear.

Rearing children as hyper-active as this one is survival training unto itself, Kakashi deemed gloomily, I should recommend this to the Council as a new regimen.

Still holding the cracked mask in one hand, the father rearranged his child on his lap. But the little one suddenly decided to just throw herself here and there and all the while laughing at Kakashi's dismay as he struggled to hold on to her.

What caused those thoughts? Why had he suddenly become so bothered by the very strong likelihood of Hotaru becoming a ninja?

Hotaru's squeaking laughter was too endearing and he'd do anything to hear her happiness for the rest of his life. Her baby gurgles and giggles reminded him too much of sunny summers or the trickling rain on the window or the tinkle of wind chimes— he was being prosaic with his metaphors but he realized they all fit— she reminded him too much of life. This was one life that he contingently made and that he realized— like an artist to his painting— he saw beauty in her innocence... and he realized he didn't want her to change because that would mean she would eventually lose it. He did not want her to grow up too soon.

Kakashi was afraid— a slow sluggish fear brewing in his chest— and he was feeling truly helpless. The cycle was inevitable, inescapable. Hotaru will be going to grow up. She will live a life of her own and the life a shinobi.

Just possibly, he reminded himself, just possibly a shinobi's life.

Yet it all sum up that she wouldn't be so innocent anymore.

And it's all out of his hands. He just had to convince himself that these things were out of his hands.

"But who said you'll be ninja?" Kakashi hadn't meant to say it out loud but thankfully nobody else was around. Hotaru just stared for one moment. She might have been more surprised by the sudden sound he made rather than understanding anything.

Kakashi heaved a sigh. If the circumstances ever presented themselves and I know they will eventually, will I hold her back? he asked himself, Could I bring it upon myself to stop her from ever becoming a ninja?

It wouldn't be that hard actually and it wasn't uncommon. There was that old guy owning Ichiraku whose name escapes him and his own daughter— they turned out fine.

Kakashi could easily and completely deny Hotaru of the profession and lifestyle that made everyone he knew what they are now. It might even be safer for her to be a civilian instead. Hotaru could attend a normal school—learn the arts, literature and sciences. She could have lots of civilian friends, date a little here and there and she might eventually find some guy worthy enough for her, to have kids and all that…

Kakashi stopped mid-thought. Did I just think that? Gawd, she's only baby!

"No dating, okay?" he whispered to the inattentive child, setting her upright so they met eye to eye. His weird act of fatherly protectiveness surprised him even and it wasn't like Hotaru could understand what he was saying. "Well… not until you're old enough."

The Copy Nin slumped back in his seat, deciding that it would still be a while before Hotaru would ever be thinking dating, marriage and/or sex.

This child could grow up and become who ever she wants to be—a librarian, a doctor, a baker, a teacher— it's her choice. She doesn't have to be a ninja at all. But, in hindsight, it wouldn't really be her choice, now would it? Because he'd be instigating her to that path. But then again the other side of Kakashi, the childishly stubborn side reasoned out that he was just thinking of her well-being.

Hotaru was staring at the expression playing on his face, rapping her tiny fist on his chest and pulling him out of his reverie again. He must have been cringing for her to be so concerned. Again he admired how astute she could be and inwardly chided himself for thinking too much.

If his Sakura were here, he'd more probably be receiving an affectionate slap at the back of the head. But then she was even more of a worrywart that she let on. Just one hint of doubt coming from him and she would probably think of home-tutoring Hotaru herself and practically attaching the child to her hip.

The white midget noticed the dog mask again and this time she successfully pulled it out of her father's loose hold, screaming "Pa'ung! Pa-ung!" as she waved the broken piece of porcelain in the air even though she could barely hold on to it herself with her undeveloped grip. Persistent, hm?

But what of Hotaru's safety? Had he really thought of that too? With two jounin parents, one already a renowned medic of the age and the other who had adorned every Bingo Book in five great countries and beyond since he was fifteen; she is more likely to get killed just by saying her complete name. Even more if she doesn't have proper ninja training to defend herself with.

It was now the shinobi had truly wished that there was a sort of book for all of this. Or that Sakumo was still… available. Advice from him would have been appreciated, but tragically the opportunity had been robbed of them.

Now, by the mention of his father, Kakashi found himself in a more deep stupor. The reason for having Icha Icha was to prevent himself from over-thinking things. And this particular train of thought was already heading straight for what he, even in the bounds of his own mind, tried to drive out again and again yet still he found it unavoidable. And perhaps it was the answer he was looking for but just couldn't accept it.

Life was a cycle and of all the "what if's", the likelihood that his child's life would turn similarly like his— with loneliness and regrets resulting from a mistake, a loss or a failure or a repetition of all miserable incidents that would slowly eat one's being away until the difference between staying alive and living a life would never be equated and only misery and self-pity was left— was like a sharp painful splinter to his side. He did not want that fate brought upon her; Kakashi admittedly would not accept it as her father.

Father.

Until now that word still carried a strangeness to his ear. Everybody was regarding him as 'the dad' when previously nobody had even tried to imagine him siring a child. He didn't, anyway.

He certainly was never a good role model for the kids to look up to (and it's not just the Icha Icha!) or even had that slightest potentiality for fatherhood but here he was: he was being a father to someone. He is a father to someone!

This dilemma was just a natural parental protectiveness that was sweeping him, Kakashi told himself, and he knew he should have gone over these particular turmoil months before his offspring had ever been born but it still struck him in awe.

Sakumo might have thought of the same things when he held Kakashi as a baby. Right? Although they would have had their differences.

It wouldn't be the first time he felt… angry with his deceased father. Kakashi had long accepted that Sakumo had done what he had to in order to protect his family. What the Hatake elder might have thought as an honorable means to end for the crimes he supposedly committed, Kakashi had always stubbornly believed it could have ended another way; a better way. They both wanted to safeguard their family but unlike his own father, Kakashi decided he wouldn't abandon Hotaru for anything.

That was it, wasn't it? He was comparing himself with his own father.

The Hatake father held his daughter closer, bouncing her in his arms to distract himself more than anything. But he was his own undoing when his thoughts swiveled back.

I'm a selfish man, I know. I'm more willingly to dictate another person's life… And for what? Just for my own contentment and reassurance. So she could keep that blissful innocence for as long she continued to live safely with the same bright green eyes, dependent and secured? So I could come home and rest assured that there's still someone waiting at least? Or so that I could prove Father wrong for leaving…?

Very selfish.

With one swift motion, the broken painted mask was grabbed and thrown to the waste basket across the room, much to Hotaru's yelling protest. The father breathed out heavily, a dull headache was budding on his temples and a sad smile on his lips as he attempted his best to placate the now wailing child.

He acknowledged it now, confessed that he did not have control over these things: Hotaru's life and what was in stored for her. He wouldn't know what would happen next. Perhaps it would all turn out okay… or perhaps it won't. But as much as he could help it, Kakashi would see her through it. He could protect her. He wouldn't abandon her.

For now, he'd savor little moments like this.

Writer's Note/Acknowledgement: Porkchop's Little Ditty is the greatest! This fic started out a mess but once again, she help me through.