I'm SORRY! I had writer's block and then Microsoft word wouldn't open and it was really strange so I had to finish it here on in the "Edit/Preveiw thing. Just to make things clear, they are walking along the edge of Minato's roof, overlooking his balcony. You know how those things are kind of slanted? Towards the end I switch POVs a lot. I hope it isn't too confusing.
The cold nipped at them and numbed their edges. The sound of shuffling feet is the only sound. Soft moonlight cascades down on man and child and wraps them in a coat of silver.
Both man and child's eyes are just beginning to adjust to the darkness surrounding them. The child tries to balance, but fails. The disadvantage of the steep rooftop leans towards the left. The chuunin loses his footing and a brief flash of panic dances across his eyes before his outstretched hand if caught and he is hauled back into balance.
Konoha's yellow flash chuckles quietly. "Careful there"
His student glared at him "I don't see the point of this, sensei." He reprimanded.
The boy starts off again across the rooftop, shakily, as his mentor trails close behind, just in case. Ready to catch his student and keep him steady. The jounin moves with practical ease, even without the aid of chakra and the boy moves slowly, cautiously, not yet ready to let himself leak chakra to the soles of his feet yet to glue himself on.
He keeps his arms outstretched at his sides to ensure stability. His sensei says it's better to learn how to do without and know how to latch himself on to uneven surfaces so he can get the concept of balance down, and then at chakra. Kakashi thinks it's a big waste of time.
His sensei smiled again. "Think of it as training."
The boy turned his head sideways a bit sharply. "This late at night?"
Kakashi started to wobble over towards the end of the rooftop, keeping an ear out for his sensei's answer. He began to lower his extended arms to his sides as he became a little more certain of his sense of balance. Minato moved so he could walk next to his student as he kept pace with the boy's short legs.
He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly "Of course, everything's better at night!"
Kakashi snorted. Says you He thought scathingly. The duo turned around simultaneously and began the trek back across the rooftop.
"…And then when you get good at this you'll be able to climb trees and walk on water!" Minato exclaimed.
Kakashi shot a sideways glance at him. All this was a waste of time. He could be doing something more important, like sleeping. As if to prove his point, Kakashi's face twisted into a yawn, reminding him yet again of how late it was.
They had reached the center of the roof and Kakashi feels himself begin to sway and tilt towards the left, so, without moving his hands, he evens himself out by sinking his weight into his right foot and soon glued to the rooftop as sturdy as he had been a moment before.
His sensei unfolded his arms when the pair made contact with the rim of the surface they were walking along. They both stopped for a moment to gaze at the dead night. Deadly and black as the village slept.
The silhouettes of two ninja, young and old, silver and gold, can be seen in the dark of night. Their figures are outlines by starlight and they are bathed in a pearly light. They look out at the village.
Minato can see a village worth dying for as he gazes out into the midnight. He can see the ANBU with his quick eyes that miss nothing as they try to make themselves unseen. He can see a squad of ninja returning to the village. If he squints he can see the two guards that were unlucky enough to be assigned the graveyard shift.
He can imagine them, their eyes ever so serious as they stare out into the black abyss of a forest. He can see the dim lights of a local jounin bar known as The Rusty Kunai and he can barely make out figures moving around inside. He beams at the familiar night scene.
Kakashi can see his home. He can spy with his sharp eyes the porcelain masks of an ANBU operative glistening in the moonlight, pale and ghostly white and unnatural as it contrasts against the shadowy night. But almost as soon as he catches it in his range of views it jets away and out of sight.
He can see the local park, grass gleaming in the cold, unearthly glimmer of moonlight. He can see the swing set that the children use in the day time, frozen and untouched in the night. It basks in a patch of silvery moonlight, slick with dew.
He looks down on the deserted streets of Konoha, how they will transform into the bustling streets of civilians, ever so jovial and painfully naïve, unaware of the approaching war. He has witnessed the civilians bring the cold and desolate streets of Konoha to life. Just like everything else, the civilians had a place in Konoha. The village hidden in the leaves wouldn't be the same without them.
He watches the world sleep. He can see the rooftops of the compound, and he can imagine how small he must seem, one speck of silver in the maze of houses. How easy it is for him to be overlooked and go unnoticed. But someday he will make himself known. He will find a name for himself. He will no longer be known as just "The son of The White Fang" but Kakashi. Just Kakashi.
The jounin turned and strolled towards the center of the rooftop. The chuunin beside him shifted his murky gaze and followed his sensei with his eyes. His teacher falls into a seated position –crossed legged- with ease. His friendly eyes beckon for Kakashi to come and join him.
Kakashi follows in the same manor, sitting in front of his sensei, leaning on his arms and he gazes out into the deep violet twilight glazed with twinkling stars, in a mass of black and purple that faintly reminds him of a bruise. The masterpiece painted in front of him, the glimmering sunrise to the swirling depths of pure white stars all coming together in a spiral of stardust that can only be known as dawn.
*Flashback*
The room is deserted. The Hatake house is silent. The only sound is the breathing of the last Hatake. He stares at the stain on the floor. The stain caused by his father's blood because of his father's selfishness. It represents the end of his old life. The knot in his stomach tightens until he is forced to clench his fist to fight off the urge to curl into a ball and forget about it all.
Anger burns passionately inside and rages unseen in the forest of Kakashi's heart and mind. It dances on the tip of his tongue and threatens to spill out into the open air and shatter the somewhat peaceful scenery. But it is not peaceful.
He tears his gaze away from the spot where his father's life ended and looked around the deserted room. The windows were boarded up and the only light was the dusty sunlight peeking through the window. He looks on helplessly as his old life slips away.
Kakashi shakily wanders out of the room. His heart constricted painfully and making it harder to breath. His mind is slowly collapsing. He stumbles and his hand reaches out to regain his balance on the desk that is no longer there. He comes crashing to the ground, and it takes a moment for his mind to remember that everything has been moved to storage.
He had been given the choice to take anything he might need, but he declined, he didn't need anything that would remind him of that man, the one who called himself father.
He looks at the empty space where the desk used to be, for a brief moment he can see it, the one time he had been allowed into his father's study. His younger self standing on the tip of his toes, peering over to see what his father was writing, and Sakumo then picking up his son and setting him on his knee while explaining the world of shinobi to the young boy. His son gazing up at him with all his attention shining in his eyes, eager to learn. The scene fades and there is only an empty hole in Kakashi's heart where his father used to be.
He shakes his head, picking his self up, his head hanging low, he bites his lip and enters another room. He glances up slowly, his big black eyes threatening to spill over with remorse and barely held back tears. There was his room. The corner where his futon used to be, where his father would tuck him in and when he was younger, tell him stories about his adventures as a ninja. If it was anything else, Kakashi would have smiled. But it seemed that a frown would be forever etched onto his face. He scowls and turns away.
He walks down the dim hallway, his eyes downcast; he keeps his gaze trained on the floor he walks along, in the ever lengthy hall. He will not think of that man, he will not think. He will not focus on the painful regret deep inside, that is always gnawing and chewing and grinding against his moral.
He will not think of how he just can't seem to shake the image of his father's lifeless body, or the blood that drenched the floors and Kakashi's dreams. He will not think of how that man, the one who was supposed to love him, betrayed him to such a cruel reality. Wasn't he enough to live for? Why would his father do that to him? Didn't he love his son?
Maybe if he had tried harder, gave him something to live for, he would still be here with him and not buried in the cold hard ground, just another useless corpse, rotting away on the outside as he had already rotted away on the inside while he was living.
He touched his face. He was startled by the warm tears streaming down. He hadn't known he was crying. He shouldn't be crying. He shook his head. He shouldn't waste his time crying for the man that had abandoned him. He shouldn't shed his tears for the man who had apparently not cared enough for him. He shouldn't cry. He was a ninja, he was a tool, and tools did not know emotion.
He repeated shinobi rule 25 in his head like a mantra, until the words became too jumbled together to tell apart. He swallowed the lump in his throat, scolded himself for feeling such emotions. He took a deep breath and donned the almost causal bored look he had perfected.
He knew he had dead eyes, shadows flickering in their depths of unseen nightmares. He was too young to fall apart, too young to have this happen to him. The world was falling out beneath his feet. He took a deep breath and forced himself to be calm once more as he met his sensei outside, the Hatake compound.
He looked up at the man, searching in his azure gaze, and suddenly he felt so open, and he knew that his sensei knew he had been crying, no matter how hard Kakashi tried to hide it. He searched for any kind of blame he knew was there. Because now his sensei was burdened with him, and he didn't want to be a burden. The only thing he could find was sadness and sympathy.
Kakashi cursed his childish tears. He was a chuunin. He should know better. His sensei's eyes where practically shimmering with sadness for the boy. Kakashi broke eye contact. He didn't need anyone's pity, especially not the sensei that broadcasted every emotion through his eyes with such a passion.
He turned and led the way away from his childhood home. His sensei locked the gates and with it locked away Kakashi's innocence. The boy took his last look at the only place that had ever shown him happiness.
The image of his childhood, the last happy moment he can recall, he can see it. His young face stretched into a wide smile, his eyes gleaming with unconcealed joy. He cuddled with the new additions to his pack; he now had a proud total of eight ninken in training. He sees his father, in the background, a proud grin etched onto his hardy features.
The alpha of The White Fang's pack lay close by, keeping a sharp eye on her pups as she rested in a refreshing patch of sunlight near a blooming willow tree in all its glory, glowing in its youth. She had recently given birth to four healthy pups. Sakumo couldn't have been more proud of her.
The only problem was one pup's eyes. They had seemed to be deformed and quite ugly. (Kakashi and Sakumo had a small dispute on the name, Sakumo trying to give the pup a name like Buraindo, meaning blind, but Kakashi had argued that it would be mean to name a dog something like that, in the end, they had settled on the name Akino, which meant autumn feild, referring to the pup's light hazel fur.)
The rest of the pack had been easy, and before long they were facing the last of the litter. Sakumo peered down on the young pup, its scrawny tail thumping, its wrinkled face grimacing up at him, its thin paws kneading the ground. The pug seemed too small to be a ninja hound, and Sakumo decided that he must be the runt of the litter.
Knowing from experience that the weak often get killed off first, he decided that for the sake of the dog's well-being, and Kakashi's young heart, they would have to give it away so when its timely death approached it wouldn't shatter the poor boy's heart too severely.
The both of them were out too often to take care of a dog, much less a puppy. He had noticed too late that he had let the boy become attached to the tiny pup, he sighed, as he knew there was no easy way to separate the two. He had tried to explain to the boy, but Kakashi wouldn't listen. He clutched the pup against his chest, where it squealed a bit but willingly allowed itself to be pressed against the child.
Kakashi had then began to explain hotly about how he'd find a place because there was a place for everything in this world, and it wouldn't be fair for the puppy, and now it was his puppy, and he's take extra special care of him so he wouldn't get hurt.
Sakumo had gazed down on his innocent boy with knowing eyes, he then questioned about how they would attack with such a measly pug, how could he contribute if he would just be getting in the way? Kakashi's eyes had flashed strangely at the comment, and he murmured once more about how the pug would be useful because Kakashi would protect him, and he would find what the dog's talents were.
Sakumo sighed, they weren't getting anywhere with this. They were going in circles. But Kakashi seemed stubborn to keep the pup, so Sakumo let it be, for the time being. Telling himself to cross that bridge when they came to it, and cursing himself for giving in to his son's wishes, whereas he was the father and what he said should have been a command, but the boy tugged at his heartstrings so, and it was impossible to decline him, especially when he had his mother's smile.
The pug became known as Pakkun, and along with the other newly dubbed puppies, they eventually they all found their calling. They soon began to learn the art of tracking, where they excelled, someday to be known as Konoha's best, and the scraggy pug turned out to be the most intelligent of them all.
The seen fades. And the Hatake house is faded and gray. The windows are boarded up and the paint is chipped. The grass is yellow and straw-like and uncomfortable. The willow is wilted and moping, its barked chipped from kunai practice, where it had patiently endured, its leaves are long gone and all that's left is an unstable tree, bound to collapse any day.
The sky was black with ever present storm clouds. The once happy seen is overshadowed with guilt, and the pleasant memory is over ridden with daunting lies. The stench of blood looms over the scene, and soon drowns out what joy could have been found there.
The boy, now older and wiser, turns away, his hard black eyes long since lost its pure shine. He does not look back. Another chapter in his life has begun.
*End of Flashback*
He lowered his eyes; he let his gaze slide down the slant in the roof and slipped into the drop of oblivion below. Even though the sun was rising, it still had ways to go before it warmed the frosty northern side of the village.
He glanced at his sensei through hazy eyes the man was sitting straight, and he seemed to be drinking in the view. Kakashi sighed, and image of his father appearing as they sometimes did at the most awkward moments.
His life had changed so drasticly since his father's decision. And although his life had been altered, he sometimes had trouble deciding if it was for the better. Sure, it was nice living with Minato-sensei, But sensei wasn't Sakumo, and there would always be a somewhat heavy silence between the two, a constant reminder of what had been lost to cause the two of them to come together.
On a brighter note, he wouldn't have to look out for himself anymore, but part of him missed the responsibility he used to own. He knew Minato-sensei wasn't family, and he would have to move out sooner or later, but that time was far away, and for now he was in Minato's care.
He suddenly felt a stare boring into him, self-consciously, feeling the heat of the gaze, turned his head to find the source of his sudden discomfort. He quickly found the answer to his unspoken question; the culprit was his sensei's bright cerulean orbs. He should have known. He wasn't prepared for a stare off, and suddenly fearing the emotions that might be given away through his eyes, he quickly chose to glower down at his lap instead.
He could imagine his sensei's reaction to the sudden movement, eyebrow's crinkling and blue eyes twinkling as they always did. At the moment, he hated him for it. Hated him for caring and making him feel helpless and weak and secure, for once in his life he actually felt accepted by someone, and he felt so vulnerable because of it.
"Are you okay Kakashi?" a voice murmured from behind him.
He almost didn't hear the question, for it was spoken at such a volume. He shrugged lightly, cursing himself for letting his weakness become noticeable. Suddenly his sensei's voice was much clearer, as now the blonde had moved to sit beside him once more.
"Are you sure?" The jounin's eyes held nothing but genuine concern for his pupil.
Kakashi nodded mutely, only half listening, not making eye contact. He knew that they were all telltale signs of a liar, but at the moment he could care less. He dragged his finger against the rough chocolatle colored roof, staring deep into the brown as if it could solve his problems. It glared back at him, giving him no answers, only a forest of bland russet.
Minato gazed at the boy's back through saddened eyes, he pitied the boy, for his misfortune in life, and for the fact that he was too wounded in his heart to let it heal. He tried to convey his feeling of sorrow through his eyes, but the boy was as unresponsive as ever, tracing his finger along the rooftop, a mix of murky bown and creamy tan as the sun transformed it with it's warmth.
He blinked, wanting nothing more than to help the boy, let him know that he could always count on his sensei for all of his love and support and anything else he would ever need from life, his sensei would try as hard as he could to give him whatever it would take to make his world go round, all he needed was his chance.
His sensei would always be there for him, he could count on him, his sensei would always give him a shoulder to lean on, let him know that it's alright to open up to someone, not everyone was out there to hurt him.
"Tell me what's on your mind, Kakashi." He gently whispered. Cocking his head to the side as a quiet mood sets in the morning air. I want to be there for you he thinks desperately, his soft sapphire eyes serious against the dying moonlight.
Kakashi's mind is a swamp of misgivings and denial.A nasty, sly voice cooes in the back of his head, it's silky voice pushing him off the edge of despair. He doesn't really want to help you. He doesn't actually care for you're well being. You thinking that you have problems is going to weigh him down and slow him down and that could get him killed someday, and then it will be your fault again. It's always your fault. Get over yourself, you don't know what a real problem is. You're just a little kid. Grow up.
But he had lived by the evil thoughts his head thought up, having no choice but to believe them, and now Kakashi could see the fault in that form of thinking. Common sense told him his sensei's words were true and his own intuition could seen the honesty in his senei's eyes.
His sensei was reaching for him, wanting to keep him down on earth, willing to be his anchor with all of his being and Kakashi could feel it from the genuine smile that graced his features day after day of the death and war, and in the mist of the turmoil his sensei would be smiling. A part of him wondered that if he died, would his sensei still go on with that happy smile on his face? Does he mean anything to this man at all?
A part of his soul hollowed when he realiezed the answer to his unspoken question. This was a man who had seen many seasons on the battle field and had earned his reputation on a jutsu that allowed him to clear a battle field in one sweep, a silent killing. He was paid to end lives and yet he could go home and smile as if they weren't in the middle of a war and there weren't innocent people dying as he spoke.
How can he go around finding the good things in life when he had spent his whole life being trained to kill? Where was the honor in that? Was this what Kakashi's own life would turn out to be like?
Spending his days teaching children the most efficient way to slit a throat without getting blood on themselves? Was it just a continuos cycle, were shinobi really just pawns in the village's deadly game? Making a living by ruining others?
He shook his head to clear it all. No wonder his father killed himself, living in the madness was unbareable and Kakashi hadn't even seen the worst of it yet. He sighed quietly before thinking about it.
He started as his unoccupied hand was gently taken by a much bigger one. He glared suspiciously at his sensei before his eyes darted away in fear of them meeting. It was rough and kind and although Kakashi's instincts screamed at him to leave the situation because this was contact, and since his heart was a roller coaster of emotions, he knew nothing good would come from this.
His sensei was sitting next to him now, his light indigo eyes half lidded but attentive. "What's on your mind? I'm here to listen to you."
And though he was denying the urge to spill his fears to his sensei, and although every fiber in his body was against him accepting the fact that he needed help, a few words slipped past his guard, and before he knew it he couldn't stop. He started from the begining and said everything that had ever bothered him feeling weaker and more pathetic by the moment.
And as much as he hated himself for it, he had to admit that he did feel better after. Like a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders, like he had been relieved of a burden he didn't know he had.
He looked down at the rooftop, startled to see teardrops speckling the surface and dripping down onto it like a drainpipe after a storm. He slowly touched his face, disturbing the never ceasing flow of tears. Kakashi looked at his hands, wet with tears and remembering the last time he cried.
But unlike last time, he wasn't sucked into the flash backs he had come to dread. He no longer relived the moment, it was just a memory, and that it would stay. He thought his tears were his weakness, but they were only purging out the turmoil deep inside.
He put his hands down on his lap, and not bothering to wipe the remaining liquids away, wearing them proudly, for he had admitted what had been plaguing his waking moments, and he let his sensei wrap him into a warm hug, and he did not fight it, he let himself be envoloped in the ever present, unconditional love of his sensei, like the father he never had, and he was not ashamed.
The next night, He dreamt.
He was wandering around a feild, it was calm and welcoming as his dreamland should be, and the grass was soft and dappled with stardust as far as he could see. As he wandered on, unsure of where he was heading but only knowing that he needed to be there.
He followed the pull he felt, like a magnet to metal, and soon something came into veiw. He felt his heart stop and his eyes widen and his feet stop working. The man he saw, with his flowing silver ponytail in all its glory, silky and swaying with a sudden breeze, was standing, back to his son, but he was there.
Out of the many emotions that had come rushing in at the sight of his father, only a few of them were recognzable. They were emotions like hate and anger, and sorrow and pain. But two emotions stood our stronger than the rest, and it filled Kakashi, they were not ones he had anticipated, but ones of grudging forgiveniss and longing.
Longing to feel that sense of comfort and security he only felt when his father was near. Sakumo did not look like how Kakashi had last seen him, blood splayed out and a dead face cold and angry, he looked like how Kakashi wanted to remember him.
Sakumo turned to face his son, and Kakashi was hit with his soft eyes, and hardy smile and everything about him seemed perfect and Kakashi knew that this was his father and there was no one else that could ever come close to the kindness his eyes felt and the love they shared.
His father took him in, and smiled, a smile of releif mingled with well hidden sadness. Almost as soon as he had come, his father started to fade, his outline growing blurry until he was gone from veiw. But Kakashi kept staring at the place he had been, as though he was still there smiling down on him.
Even if his father was gone physically, Kakashi felt that he wasn't really gone, and he never would be disapear completely. His legacy would continue on within his son, and The White Fang would always be watching over the boy he would always love.
And for the first time in a long time, kakashi was at peace with himself, and the world around. It was a new dawn, and he was going to make the most of it, and live while he could and know that when the time came, his father would be waiting for him.
This is not the end! Prepare for a time skip! (But it might be a little late because I need to get Microsoft word all sorted out. And sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, there is a hurricane coming its rainging outside, welcome hurricane Irene! and I want to post this before the power goes out.)