Chapter Eight

The room was in anarchy. The bed had been overturned, the table had been shattered, the flower that had been sitting in the window was crushed against the floor and the vase was nothing more than scattered shards of glass.

But the blond… the Yondaime, was nowhere in sight.

For a heart wrenching moment, Kakashi couldn't move. He had turned to stone in the centre of the room, torn between the desire to laugh and the need to cry. There was an instant when he tried to do both. An almost agonised laugh burst forth from his lungs, and his face collapsed as tears scratched behind his eyes.

All of the years he had grieved, all of the memories that had caused him equal amounts of happiness and suffering, all of the pain he had carried with him since that night so long ago slammed into him all at once. He had missed his teacher, he had longed for him so often since he had died, but it had been a futile longing, because he could never have the man back.

But he was back. The Yondaime was alive, and Kakashi was so happy that it hurt. But he didn't know where the man was, he had lost him again, but he was determined not to lose him for good. He couldn't let his sensei leave him again. He needed to find him. The urgency that was streaking though him was like sandpaper coursing over his skin.

Despite his brief pause within the room, he was still breathless when he gathered together his things and shrugged his pack over his shoulder. He doubted he would ever catch his breath again, at least not until he found his sensei. He darted from the room and flew downstairs, practically throwing the room's fee at the woman behind the desk, and dragging his thumb over the spikes of the cactus near the doorway as he moved out into the sunshine.

Bright blood welled up where he had pricked his thumb, a growing bead of red that he used to paint a line across his palm. He crouched down after he had hurried through the seals, and placed his hand down over the dirt, only standing again once the smoke had cleared and Pakkun was looking lazily up at him.

"Yo," the pug sighed by way of greeting.

"I need you to find someone," Kakashi said hurriedly.

"No problem," the dog blinked slowly up at him, "who?"

"Namikaze Minato."

Pakkun spent a number of precious seconds simply staring at Kakashi. His drooped eyes had gone comically wide.

"Uh," the pug licked his lips nervously, "you… you want me to find Minato-sensei?"

Kakashi nodded, "I don't have time to explain," he forced out, "just hurry up and find him."

"Kakashi…" Pakkun pulled a strange expression. It might have been a wince, or a frown, but Kakashi couldn't be sure. He didn't really have enough attention to give to the summon, all of his thoughts were on finding a certain blond, "you do realise that Minato-sensei is… err…"

"Dead, yes, I know," Kakashi snapped, "just find him!"

"Alright, alright," the pug said slowly, as though trying to calm Kakashi down, "just so we both understand that you want me to… um… track a dead man."

"I am aware of what I'm asking."

The pug slowly lowered his nose to the ground, casting wary glances back towards Kakashi, "and as soon as we get back to Konoha you should go to the hospital for a… uh… check-up."

"Fine," Kakashi snapped impatiently, "just hurry up!" He had neither the time, nor the patience, much less the wits about him to explain everything that had occurred to the summon.

Pakkun frowned nervously and wandered away, his nose to the ground, and a long suffering sigh escaped him as he tried to appease Kakashi.

After a few weary steps, the dog froze. His eyes had gone impossibly wide.

"Kakashi…" he whispered softly, "he… Minato-sensei was… his scent is…"

"I know!" Kakashi cried, "Pakkun! Find him!"

The dog looked back at Kakashi, shock written all over his squashed face. But he dragged some semblance of composure back, and nodded, before racing off after the Yondaime.

Kakashi was shaking when he forced his feet to follow the pug.

oO0Oo

He couldn't remember a time when he had moved so fast. His impatience to find his teacher had turned to desperation the further from the village they travelled. Pakkun was a blur of legs a few feet in front of him, but after a while, it had become painfully obvious where the Yondaime had gone.

The pug skidded to a halt at the edge of the cliff, panting after running so far, so fast, with out any breaks. The sun was close to setting but a fiery light still hung over the sea, it made the water look like blood.

"Kakashi," Pakkun panted, "what's going on?"

Kakashi strode closer to the edge of the cliff. There was a single set of footprints in the sand below, they meandered towards the cliff that Kakashi had visited a couple of days ago, and disappeared into the sea.

The blond had gone back.

"I'll explain later Pakkun," Kakashi replied, "you can go now."

He didn't wait for a reply. Kakashi threw himself off the cliff and landed heavily on the sand below, his feet shrank into the grains, the tide was quickly coming in and attacking the wounded cliff with each wave.

He could feel his heart slamming against his ribs. He had no idea what he was going to say to the man. He had spent the whole time trying to convince himself that it wasn't his teacher, and when he finally found out that the blond was the Yondaime, part of him refused to accept it. As though some sadistic crease in his mind was determined to crush his hopes.

He was almost afraid to be happy. Afraid that his sheer overwhelming joy at having the man back would somehow jinx him, and he would lose the man again.

It was this fear that made Kakashi race across the sand, towards the cliff that the blond had escaped from the night Kakashi had found him.

The orange glow of the sunset bled into the cavern that Kakashi had found only a couple of nights ago, yet it seemed to be so much longer since then. So much had happened in such a small amount of time. It felt as though Kakashi had aged years in a matter of days. He was so tired, but at the same time he was humming with so much energy that he wondered briefly why he hadn't fallen apart, one atom at a time.

The light that had not yet sank below the horizon allowed Kakashi to see the corpse he had sensed within the passageway the other night. His heart clenched when he looked down into a face that was so familiar, but different at the same time. He had been dead for longer that the man on the table in the room that Kakashi had found, but even though his face held a shadow of the Yondaime, he couldn't be mistaken for the man. His hair was less golden, his features sharper, less open.

Kakashi forced himself past the body and further into the passageway, where the light of outside failed to reach.

There was a light glimmering out of the room at the end of the darkness. It was a different sort of light than from the lamps that had illuminated the room the other night. A blue hue danced out of the doorway and onto the walls of the passage. It moved like liquid over the stone, pale and blue and unnatural.

He knew what was creating the light before he turned into the doorway.

The Yondaime was standing over the table, looking down at the corpse that was still present on the table. The torches on the walls were unlit, but the small Rasengan in his sensei's hand was washing the room in a dancing blue glow. It spun and tilted in his upturned palm, like a tiny globe.

The Yondaime had his back to Kakashi. But Kakashi could see the tension running thickly through his stance.

"Sensei…" Kakashi took a step into the room.

"Don't call me that," the man replied. His voice was flat. Emotionless. Dead.

"What should I call you then?" Kakashi asked quietly. His heart felt like it had cracked apart. He had been writhing in joy on the inside, so profoundly grateful that his teacher was alive. But he hadn't stopped to think how the Yondaime would feel, he hadn't spared even a fleeting thought for what must be going through the man's mind.

"I don't know," the man replied, still in that empty voice, "I don't have a name."

"Yes you do," Kakashi replied desperately, "it's Namikaze Minato."

"No it isn't!"

The blue light died, plunging them both into darkness. Before the Rasengan had dissipated the Yondaime had turned to look at him, and Kakashi had seen more anguish in his teacher's face than he could bear.

In the dark, all he could hear was the shaking breaths of the Yondaime, and his own heart thudding within him.

"I'm not him," the man called out from somewhere in the darkness. His voice echoed around the room, making it impossible for Kakashi to pinpoint where he stood.

"Yes you are," Kakashi replied breathlessly, "Matsura said…"

"I don't care what he said!" the Yondaime cried, his voice was still echoing around Kakashi long after he stopped speaking, "I don't remember being him. I don't remember anything."

Kakashi took a careful step further into the room. He recalled the position of a torch to the side of the doorway, and edged in that direction.

He used a Katon jutsu to light the lamp. With only that small amount of light, the room was still more shadows that anything else. But at least now he could see the blond.

The Yondaime was still standing before the table, but he had turned away from the corpse and was watching Kakashi dispassionately.

"That was why you were nice to me," the man accused, "because you thought I was him."

Kakashi blinked in surprise, held still by the angry glint in the Yondaime's eyes.

"No," Kakashi whispered, "that's… that's not…"

"Yes it is," the man turned away and looked back down at the corpse on the table, "well, you can go now. I'm not who you want me to be, no matter what that scientist said."

Kakashi moved closer to the blond, gripped by panic, "I didn't think you were him," he said, forcing his words past his lips, "I didn't believe you were him, so don't try to use that to explain my actions."

Kakashi rounded the table, so that he could look into his teacher's face over the lifeless corpse.

"Just because you can't remember anything, that doesn't mean that you aren't…"

"What about the other person?" the Yondaime finally looked up to meet Kakashi gaze, "the man Matsura said was sent to them, the one they experimented upon."

"The shinobi Orochimaru sent here?" Kakashi asked.

"I can't remember being him either," the blond said, "so who am I? Am I him, or your sensei? Or neither?"

"He was killed when your soul was…" Kakashi fell silent when his teacher's face twisted with guilt.

"The only reason I'm here is because people died," he said softly, looking down at the corpse.

"That's…" Kakashi sighed sadly, "that's not your fault."

The Yondaime moved his hand towards the corpse's face, at though he was going to touch the hair that hung around his cheeks, but he stopped before his fingers could brush against the strands. His hands were shaking.

"Why did you come after me?" he asked softly, unable to look up at Kakashi.

Kakashi thought that he might crumble under the weight of that question. There were so many answers, so many reasons why. But there was one that was more important than all the others.

"Because I care about you," he replied.

The blond looked up at him then, eyes wide and sparkling with unshed tears.

"Him," he whispered, "you care about him, Namikaze Minato."

"You are Namikaze Minato," Kakashi argued.

The Yondaime shook his head, "I don't remember being him."

"You remembered me!" Kakashi cried, startling the blond with his outburst, "explain that! If you aren't Namikaze Minato, if we had never met then how did you know me? How did you know I lied about my name? Or that I never take my mask of in front of anyone? How did you recognise me if you aren't my sensei?"

"It was a dream," the blond replied breathlessly.

"What else do you dream about?" Kakashi asked, gripping the edge of the table as he looked imploringly at the other man.

The Yondaime looked away, fixing his eyes on the floor to his side.

"I don't know…" he whispered, "lots of things… fire. And trees. A woman with red hair and…" a small, weak laugh escaped him, "…toads."

Kakashi laughed. The sound made the blond snap his head up to look at him, shocked by his reaction.

"The fire is the Kyuubi," Kakashi leant slightly over the table, desperate for the blond to understand, "the demon that killed you, I thought it might be when you described your dream to me last night."

The blond blinked and took a single step back from the table, away from the corpse and Kakashi.

"The trees are the forest around Konoha," Kakashi went on, "where you lived."

"Konoha…" the blond whispered to himself, the name fell off his tongue with practised ease.

"The woman with red hair could be Kushina," Kakashi smiled, even more sure now than he had been before that the blond really was the Yondaime, "the woman you were in love with. And the toads were your summons."

"My… what?" the blond asked quietly.

"You signed a contract with the toads," he replied, "you could summon them to work for you."

"I… I…" the blond was frowning as though he was in pain, "I don't remember any of that… they were just dreams…"

"You might not remember being the Yondaime," Kakashi implored him, "but you dream about being him."

"Then who is that?" the blond yelled angrily as he pointed to the corpse upon the table, "if I'm this… Yondaime, then who is he?"

"I don't know," Kakashi admitted, "but he's not you."

"How can you be so sure of that?" the blond hissed.

"He has brown eyes," Kakashi answered with calm certainty.

The Yondaime blinked in surprise and stepped closer to the table, looking down into the face of the corpse, at the sunken eyes that were deep brown rather than vibrant blue.

"You have blue eyes," Kakashi said, watching his sensei's face closely, "have you ever heard the saying 'the eyes are the windows to the soul'?"

"He doesn't have my eyes," the Yondaime breathed, his fingers finally touching the blonde strands around the corpse's face.

"He doesn't have your soul either," Kakashi said firmly, "he's not Namikaze Minato, because you are."

The blond flicked his eyes up towards Kakashi, and there was such desperation in his face that Kakashi almost recoiled.

"I don't know how to be Namikaze Minato," he replied, his voice was heavy with despair.

"You…" Kakashi swallowed, "just be yourself."

The Yondaime looked back down at the corpse, "but… what am I supposed to do now?"

Kakashi frowned. He wasn't sure what the blond meant.

The blond glanced up at Kakashi's face, and smiled slightly, but it was a sad smile, and it made Kakashi want to move around the table and hold the man.

"I mean…" the Yondaime sighed, "I don't have… I don't have anywhere to go and…"

Kakashi moved around the table then. The blond stepped back at the sudden movement and looked up at Kakashi. He looked utterly lost, completely unsure of everything.

Did the man think that Kakashi was just going to leave him?

"I'm taking you back," Kakashi told him, almost begging, terrified that the man would refuse, "back to Konoha."

The blond smiled. It was still a sad smile, but there was a hint of hopefulness there too. Kakashi smiled at him, but in the shadows, with his mask on, he didn't know if the man could see him smiling.

He pulled his mask down, "I want you to come back with me."

The Yondaime's eyes ran over Kakashi's face, and his smile turned to one that was more of hopefulness than sadness.

"Thank you," the Yondaime whispered.

Kakashi felt the tears he had fought off earlier come back. He could feel them gathering in his eyes, hot and wet and filled with to many emotions to count. The Yondaime didn't have to thank him, Kakashi was the one who was thankful. He was so indescribably grateful that his teacher was alive that he couldn't speak. He simply stepped forward and grabbed the smaller man, holding him so tightly he thought his arms would snap off.

The blond went still and tense for a moment, before he seemed to melt. His own arms snaked around Kakashi, and he tilted his head to bury his face in Kakashi's neck.

"Can… I want to…" The blond let out a stuttering sigh against Kakashi's throat, "the body… I don't want to just leave it here."

Kakashi nodded, rubbing his cheek against the soft strands of his teacher's hair. He felt so many things all at once that he thought he would burst. It didn't matter that the man didn't remember. Nothing mattered. It was still him, he was still Namikaze Minato. Kakashi couldn't force himself to let the man go, he held on even tighter.

"Just…" the blond chuckled weakly against Kakashi. Kakashi could feel the man shaking, "just don't call me 'sensei' anymore. Alright?"

"What am I supposed to call you then?" Kakashi asked softly.

The Yondaime's arms tightened around Kakashi, "I suppose… you should call me Minato," he breathed, "since… since that's my name."

Kakashi grinned, "yeah, it is."