The Meaning of Death

R. Winters

2. My Father's Pride

Background: (No need to read if you know Kakashi Gaiden.) During the Third Great Secret War, Hatake Sakumo was assigned a mission along with his team that, if it succeeded, would have meant a stop to the war. The mission proved more deadly than imagined and Sakumo had the difficult choice between saving his teammates and completing the mission. He chose the lives of his teammates and the Secret War become more violent and bloody than ever. It is uncertain when, exactly, this event occurred, however it is noted that Kakashi's father committed suicide while Kakashi was still as young as seven.

Thanks for your kind reviews (and what do you know, Kakashi's mom did have the same name as Sasuke's... what a coincidence!) I hope you find this equally as enjoyable/moving. If you were hoping for something more in between... well, I may eventually come out with a separate story following Kakashi's early childhood...

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. If I did there would be a shinobi named Aguri... but that's a completely different story.

Continuing in the theme of Important Deaths in Kakashi's Life, I give you the second chapter of TMD.

Very briefly (in case you have any confusion):

These are thoughts

'These are voices in the background... or voices from memory.'

"These are just your normal, average quotations."

Enough said.

'Look, it's the White Fang's son.'

'I feel sorry for him, that traitor for a father.'

'Apple never falls far from the tree, I say.'

'Something's always been off 'bout their whole clan.'

'And they still made him a shinobi, can you believe it?'

'The sooner they're dead, the better.'

Kakashi tried to ignore the whispers as he passed through town. It was like torture. They thought he couldn't hear them, but, of course, he heard every word they said. He pretended it didn't bother him, but the scars on his heart just built up.

So Kakashi was glad when he reached the quiet stretch of street that led to his house. He stopped by the gate to pick up their name plate—someone had torn it down again. He tried to pretend he was used to it, it didn't bother him anymore, but such obvious hatred from the people you fought every day to protect… it was hard.

His light footfalls went unnoticed on the old cobblestones running through the nearly abandoned Hatake complex. It had never seemed so large and empty. Kakashi wearily entered his house. He reached up to pull down his mask, then froze.

That smell. It was quickly becoming familiar to the six-year-old and it made his stomach lurch uncomfortably.

The bitter smell of blood.

He paused a moment, breathing out loud to steady his shaky breaths, but he wasn't able to calm his frantic heart. Quietly, he followed his nose down the hall until he stopped before the closed door of his father's study.

He couldn't hear anything over the loud thumping of his heart in his ears. He stared at the door for a long moment, fearful and anxious about what was behind it.

"D-dad?" He called uncertainly. He didn't expect to be answered, even if there was nothing wrong with his elder, and he wasn't.

His hand reached out and Kakashi cursed his weakness as he observed the shaking limb.

It's probably nothing.

He was probably just being paranoid.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Kakashi slid the door open.

The entire image was bared to his wide eyes, blood and entrails and the pale, gray face of what was once a brilliant legend.

"Dad!" Kakashi exclaimed, running inside, knowing from his own experiences that it was too late for anything.

Minato heard from Aguri who heard from Sachi who heard from Mitsu who heard from Hiroshi who had been one of those of the Konoha Police present. At first he couldn't believe it, but the other shinobi had been insistent.

'They say it was suicide… yeah, sepukku…'

While admittedly, he hadn't known the man well, the Yellow Flash found it hard to believe anyone would go that way. He found it even harder to believe anyone would abandon their six-year-old son like that.

'Of course, we all know he wasn't in his right mind…'

He had known that, of course. Everyone knew the White Fang hadn't been in his right mind. Not since that time. It had been painfully obvious to the teacher of his son, who constantly dealt with the repercussions felt by the young boy.

'Still, it's a shame… but what a way to go—this'll make gossip for years.'

Minato really wished that weren't true. Because gossip about Sakumo meant gossip about Kakashi. It always meant gossip about Kakashi. The boy had had enough of that kind of gossip already, ever since that time.

There were still police lingering around the house when he arrived, wearing the familiar uniforms bearing the red and white seal of the Uchiha clan. Of course, most of them were Uchiha. But no one had seen 'the kid' for more than an hour. One had the gall to suggest he'd gone to the river to drown himself. Minato felt the broken nose was well deserved and the police captain seemed to agree.

Kakashi was doing as good a job as ever, hiding his chakra. But Minato didn't need chakra to find his wayward student. Not after spending so much time with him. It was an easy job to find him, and even easier to scale the tree, the tallest tree in the massive Hatake garden, green and vibrant as a sharp contrast to the last heir of the dead family.

He needed to talk, Minato thought, but the man didn't say anything. Kakashi knew he was there and he didn't want to push him before he was ready. After all, it had been maybe five hours since it happened. The pain would still be fresh.

"I know he was affected by… what people were saying about him…" Kakashi's voice was quiet and Minato doubted he'd have been able to hear it from the ground. "What people were saying… about me…"

There was a long silence and Minato didn't interrupt it.

"So much blood…" Kakashi mused quietly, his tone labored and husky from tears that wouldn't fall from his tired, red eyes. "He must have been lying there, bleeding for hours… is what the med-nin said…"

"… If I'd gotten there sooner… He wasn't even an hour cold when I found him… If I hadn't stopped to mess with that weird Guy…" Kakashi's words trailed off quietly.

"It wasn't your fault, Kakashi-kun," Minato said softly, feeling the need to say it now rather than keep quiet, "None of it was your fault."

Kakashi's laugh sounded painful and forced, "It's never my fault, is it? I fail again and again and…" He trailed off, unable to continue.

Another lengthy silence was drawn out.

"… It's a weakness, isn't it?" The boy asked at length, "To have people you care about… Dad… he never was the same after that time… Protecting his 'precious people' became more important than anything… And in the end, that's what caused his death, isn't it?"

"… In a way… I'm fortunate…" Kakashi mused resignedly, "I've seen my father's mistakes…"

"Kakashi… do you really believe that?" Minato wondered sadly.

"He should have been more focused that time," Kakashi said, regurgitating words he'd heard over and over. "Hokage-sama had already made it clear that the lives of the team were secondary to the success of the mission."

"Kakashi…" Minato was at a loss for words. What had happened to the little boy who wanted to become a ninja more than anything—to protect his loved ones?

"Sensei… a shinobi should devote himself to his 'kage and his village," Kakashi stated, too tired to argue against the point when it was so much easier to give in, "If he doesn't he'll end up with a… conflict of interests and get someone killed."

Minato sighed. "Kakashi… while that is all true… a shinobi with precious people… people to protect… gains strength from his desire to protect those people…" He smiled slightly, "That is what Sarutobi-sama refers to as the 'Spirit of Fire'."

Kakashi leaned his head back against the bark of the tree tiredly and didn't respond. While his sensei's words sounded nice, the others had the strength of the majority behind them. While his sensei's words seemed true, a man's death seemed to indicate differently.

'Look, it's the White Fang's son.'

'Did you hear what happened?'

'That poor boy…'

'Those Hatake—they always come to a bad end.'

'But the stress of having such a young son fighting in the war…!'

'The heir, too, they say…'

Kakashi clenched his fists at his sides, pretending he couldn't hear their voices.

'The White Fang…'

'Hatake Sakumo…'

'That poor boy…'

Kakashi clenched his jaw. He'd make them forget. Forget about his disgraceful past and see only the proud shinobi he would become.

'A shinobi who fails his mission is called trash.'

'A shinobi that doesn't follow the rules is garbage.'

'A shinobi is nothing more than a tool.'

The mistake his father made was to believe that the rules didn't apply to him. Or that the rules only applied in certain situations. But Kakashi knew the rules. And he had learnt the lesson of his father well.

'Shinobi Rule #8. Hesitation means death.'

'Shinobi Rule #17. Never question orders.'

'Shinobi Rule #25. Never show emotions.'

Kakashi stared morosely at the rain hitting the ground. Just to have something to look at that wasn't the picture in the frame—a painful reminder of his father's fall from glory. Just to have something to look at that wasn't the sparse company of shinobi and civilians—the surprising few that would show their faces at a coward's funeral.

He could remember standing there with his father on a day very much like to day, long ago. It seemed like long ago. He couldn't remember much but he did remember the large crowd that had appeared to honor her.

'Daddy… all these people know mama?'

It hurt to see that people would hold their grievances against the dead so flippantly. Kakashi didn't see any of those 'precious people' his father had thrown his reputation—ultimately, his life—away for. None of his so-called friends had come to respect him for his sacrifice. His foolish sacrifice.

'Many people… loved and respected your mother… Kakashi. See…? They have all come to honor her one last time.'

Nobody honored the fallen heroes. The Hokage had made a brief appearance much earlier. Kakashi had recognized one or two shinobi who worked with the White Fang in the past—but they, too, only quickly passed through, as though afraid someone might see him. A handful of curious civilians with nothing better to do stopped briefly, whispering to each other as they left.

'The White Fang…?'

'I heard about him.'

'The reason we're still at war is because of him, they say.'

'Hmph. Good riddance, I say.'

A hand squeezed his shoulder and Kakashi looked up. His sensei had also come, to accompany him. Kakashi wondered whether the man worried for his reputation at all, being here. He could have come by himself, he was nearly seven. He had told his sensei as much, but the man had just smiled sadly at him and insisted.

'I should pay my respects, also, since he gave me such a proud student.'

Kakashi knew he was just being nice but the comment had pleased him all the same. He looked down again, his gaze crossing the picture he'd been trying so hard not to look at all day. It was the picture from his files. The masked White Fang stood in it looking bored and haughty, silver hair unmanageable and the hilt of a sword just visible over one shoulder. Kakashi would have given anything to see his father like that again.

He looked around the empty street. Even Jiraiya and the other Sannin hadn't appeared. Though they'd grown up and went to the Academy together with his father. And Jiraiya, his best friend. Kakashi hadn't seen him since it happened.

'Shinobi Rule #25…'

Kakashi bit his lower lip under his mask, trying to block off the flood of negative emotions even as they threatened to overwhelm him.

It was like with his father, they too had died. Or maybe, Kakashi thought, It was I who died with him.

'Never show emotion.'

"Sensei… can we go now?" Kakashi asked coolly, the lump in his throat having been pummeled down.

Minato looked down at him sadly. Someday… you'll regret being so eager to leave, Kakashi…

"Just a little longer," the blonde said lightly.

Kakashi looked down again, watching the rain land in the mud just so he wouldn't have to look at where he was.

'Daddy, I want to stay with you!'

There was more whispering again. Civilians weren't very good at being unobtrusive in their gossiping. Even the most asinine shinobi wouldn't let himself be overheard saying things like that at another's funeral.

Annoyed, Minato turned, ready to tell those people just where they could put their crass little comments. Kakashi caught his sleeve.

"I don't care what they say, sensei," the six-year-old said softly. It wasn't as though he hadn't heard it all before. Over and over by people he admired more than those.

"Please… I don't want to be here anymore…"

Minato sighed and nodded, taking the boy's hand; he made sure to send the civilians the dirtiest glare they'd ever received as he led Kakashi away. The Jounin felt some twisted satisfaction when the civilians abruptly shut up and scattered like squirrels from an explosive tag.

The pair walked in silence back to the clan district. It wasn't until they stood in front of his house that Kakashi spoke.

"Sensei… do you think anyone will… remember me when I die?"

Minato scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Well… I suppose… that depends on what you do with your life, Kakashi-kun…"

Kakashi nodded in acknowledgement.

'Look, it's that boy again…'

'A genius, I'm told.'

'They say his parents died when he was young.'

'A demon on the job, I've heard.'

'That cold look in his eyes and he's so young…'

Kakashi pretended not to hear them as he walked down the street. How quickly they had forgotten.