Children of Winter
Summary: Namikaze Minato hates snow. Or, at least, he dislikes it. But he isn't about to let his team notice this. OneShot.
Warning: -
Set: story-unrelated, pre-Kakashi Gaiden
Disclaimer: Standards apply.
Merry Christmas to you all!
Everything is white.
Namikaze Minato hates snow. Or, at least, he strongly dislikes it. It sticks to his shoes and the legs of his uniform trousers and hinders his step whenever he lifts a foot. He feels like walking on eggs: the ground is extremely fragile, ready to shatter at any moment. Again and again, his feet break through the thin upper layer and he sinks into the cold wetness almost knee-deep. Cursing inwardly for having accepted a mission to the snowy winter mountains of the Country of Tea, he lifts a foot, pulls himself from one hole of snow and immediately sinks into the next one. His heavy pack digs into his back, leads down on his shoulders and causes him to stumble and slip again and again. Moving forward is as impossible as keeping ice-cream cool in hell.
He tries nevertheless because their mission is to bring supplies to a hut far up in the mountains and a mission is a mission. His clothes are fitting for deep-winter temperatures and he even brought gloves. Nobody told him he would need snow shoes or ski, as well.
The sun blinds from above. The landscape is bare of any marks.
There is nothing Minato can orientate himself on: no tree, no rock, no dune. He has been here in summer before and the mountain landscape had been a pretty display of trees and rocks and cattle grazing on the soft curves of the hills. Now there is nothing but a plain, white surface. Minato takes another step and starts to glide downward, then sits down abruptly. His right leg dangles over the abyss: he hasn't even noticed they were so close to the edge of the mountain. Woah. His depth perception is totally off: Whether the landscape before him rises or falls, whether it is steep or even, he has no idea.
Absolutely none.
Still, he urges onwards, cursing silently under his breath and still somewhat glad for the icy wind. That way, none of his swear words of choice will reach Kakashi's, Obito's or Rin's ears. His students struggle on behind him, each one almost as laden as he is, but they, other than him, wear snow shoes. They have only been able to find fitting pairs for the children, probably too many adults pass by here. Each one of them is wrapped into a warm jacket, scarf and hat. They have stopped talking (boasting/arguing/being diplomatic/sneering/calming) long ago and now only struggle onwards, keen on reaching the hut. Children. Once in a while, one of them complains but they are shinobi and remarkably fit and patient today. Minato is glad for it because he feels like screaming out. He doesn't do it because he'd surprise his kids by doing so. He probably would cause an avalanche, as well.
After five hours of ascent, they finally reach the hut. The first thing they do is have a drink, hot chocolate for the kids and tea for Minato. Then, Minato sits down facing the window and watches Obito, Rin and Kakashi from inside.
Obito first tries to challenge Kakashi to a snowball fight and then starts building a snow man.
Rin makes a snow angel and then gives shape to Obito's piece of – ahem – art.
Kakashi practices stealth by trying to move across the snow cover without causing cracks.
Minato watches them and smiles.
They are children, only children – and, even more: they are his children. And here, for once, they can be exactly what they are. Nobody cares whether they are supposed to be soldiers for Konoha or future shinobi or such. They can play and laugh and fight and bicker and smile and argue as much as they want and Minato thinks he rarely has seen a prettier picture than the three children playing in the snow.
It definitely was worth the whole hassle. Maybe he will come to like snow one day.
(He never sees Naruto see his first snow. Kakashi and Rin do, though, and they remember. Konoha's children all are children of winter, one way or another.)