Chapter 44: Impediment
Over the course of the year with Kakashi, Minato had seen the unknown ninja – the Copy-cat ninja – twice more on his own missions, bringing up the total count up to three. That is not to say the Copy-cat only appeared only twice more in total; there were many other sightings of the man from other teams Minato had not been a part of. In fact, the Copy-cat seemed to be appearing more and more frequently as the months when by, as though the man was gaining confidence in slipping in behind them.
The second time Minato saw the Copy-cat, he'd only barely caught a glimpse of the distinctive crimson scarf fluttering in the wind before it disappeared amongst the green of the trees.
Minato had given a discreet nod to his teammates, who'd collectively confirmed beforehand that he'd be the one to engage with that particular ninja, before Minato dashed out towards him. The blond was close enough to catch the Copy-cat's eyes widening when the other ninja finally caught sight of Minato speeding his way. Minato couldn't help his own cerulean eyes sparkling in triumph, confident in his speed - and once the final kinks of his Hiraishin were worked out, he would be even quicker.
But even without it, Minato had chased the raven-haired shinobi without fail. The Copy-cat had leapt up into the trees, weaving and ducking under branches, trying to keep himself camouflaged. Minato stayed near the ground, allowing him to move faster without dodging stray branch limbs every couple steps. He had the disadvantage of losing sight of the Copy-cat every now and then as thick branches obstructed his view, but Minato managed to keep up. Eventually, luck was on Minato's side as the blond found the Copy-cat mere inches away from his stretched hands. It was in that exact same moment the raven-haired man abruptly changed directions, kicking off the bark of the tree, while firing a couple kunai in front of Minato's feet to keep him from following.
Minato side-stepped them easily, as he'd been expecting the man to throw weapons at him since the beginning of the chase in the first place. In fact it was always quite surprising running always seemed to be the Copy-cat's first choice of action instead of engaging in battle.
Minato sailed an exploding tag tied to a kunai past the Copy-cat, letting the explosion halt the other man. He'd hoped that that would cause the man to double back towards him, but the Copy-cat only kicked off upwards the moment he saw the tag, letting the force of the blast pushed him across the sky faster. Minato felt himself grinning at the challenge before he caught himself and sped after the other man once more.
Just when Minato contemplated about throwing a Hiraishin sealed kunai, even though the chances of it working properly at the current time was quite low, did the Copy-cat finally seemed to have had enough, skidding to a halt.
The Copy-cat's posture was bent low in a defensive stance, which was odd because Minato was sure the man would've been livid enough at the chase (or at least livid at Minato for interrupting whatever it was the Copy-cat had been attempting to do before Minato chased him) to attack him. Minato took careful steps as he approached the man.
"Would it make a difference if I politely asked you to leave me alone?" the man asked half-heartedly, his voice as tense as his posture - tenser every forward step Minato took.
Minato arched a blond eyebrow, but stopped when he was a good meter away. "Wouldn't that be the other way around? I seem to recall it was you who was trailing us first."
The Copy-cat tilted his head to the side, but otherwise held still, the only movement the fluttering of his crimson scarf. "Could we call that a coincidence?"
Minato scoffed. The Copy-cat looked like he was sulking at Minato's reaction, before the man straightened his back, stretching a bit. Eyes narrowed, Minato discreetly adjusting his own stance even while the Copy-cat grinned derisively at him from under the scarf. "Now, now, no need to get so paranoid," the man tsked.
Minato ignored him. "Will you come quietly with me?" the blond said sternly instead.
"I'm a busy man," the Copy-cat replied nonchalantly. Minato palmed his kunai in response, forcing the other man shake off his humour to a frown. "I won't attack you; I have no quarrel with Konoha-nin."
"And with Iwa-nin?" Minato questioned, flowing through the other man's excuse. Minato had yet to forget the determination the Copy-cat showed when he'd assisted Minato in defeating the Iwa-nins attacking his team. But even if he responded he was against Iwa, like Konoha, that didn't mean Minato would trust him - it was too much of a coincidence. To be honest, there was no good answer to the question that wouldn't result in Minato hauling the man away as a possible threat.
The Copy-cat, realising this or not, only lifted a shoulder in a parody of a shrug. "My help is event specific," he said in place of a proper answer.
Minato frowned at those words, displeased with the man's infuriating response. "As that may be, you are still coming with me." Minato gave a deliberate pause, "Unless you plan to retaliate and escape with your fancy jutsu?" Minato asked, referring to the ball of lightening he'd seen the man wield the last time they met.
"Do I need to kill you?" the Copy-cat countered mildly.
So it was possibly an assassination jutsu, Minato deduced. Either that or the man was so sure of his skill that he considered any level jutsu more lethal than Minato. Outwardly, the blond only shrugged. "How should I know?" Minato said, "You've never stated your purpose."
"Do I need a purpose other than friendly assistance?"
It was exasperating trying to grill the other man when he answered back in questions of his own. But then again, the Copy-cat's wording was likely designed for that exact purpose. "If you are indeed 'friendly', then I suppose you wouldn't mind coming back to Konoha with me? If you truly mean Konoha no harm, you have nothing to fear," Minato reasoned. As he said this, his muscles were taut and ready because no matter his answer, the Copy-cat was coming with him.
The Copy-cat crossed his arms. "How boring," he said defiantly, "every answer I give leads back to the same outcome." The man gave Minato a pointed look which the blond refused to respond to. He scoffed, uncrossing his arm. "Well then, if that's how you're going to be." The Copy-cat leaned forward, looking as though he was about to dash towards Minato. Minato steadied himself for an attack, but then, without warning, the Copy-cat disappeared into a quiet puff of smoke instead, leaving the blond standing alone.
A shadow clone.
Various other teams had also mentioned spotting, or occasionally assisted by, the Copy-cat before he would dispel himself to avoid capture.
Whether or not the Copy-cat helped only Konoha shinobi or any random soul he spotted, no one who got close enough to question him managed to get a honest response. It was almost enough for Minato to regret letting the man go the first time he'd encountered him, when the man was clearly weak enough to subdue without too much effort ... but then again, Minato had owed him; Minato's teammates would've died without his assistance.
So now, Minato could only join other Jounins in keeping his eyes and ears open throughout missions in order to spot the Copy-cat wherever he appeared next.
For the longest time Minato didn't think much of the Copy-cat except that he was 'a threat with dubious alliances'. It was only when Minato caught a glimpse of the crimson scarfed man crouched in front of Konoha's memorial stone, when Minato started to contemplate the idea that perhaps the Copy-cat didn't have any ulterior motive despite the backdrop of a war hanging behind everyone's back; he was only trying to make up to the (family, friends, teammates?) comrades that he'd lost in battle and had been too late to save - a vigilante who served no one but himself.
This was the third time the Namikaze saw the man.
x
Minato considered pulling out his weapons and dropping into an offensive stance when he realised just who was by Konoha's memorial stone. But the man, the Copy-cat, was kneeled in front of the stone, hands clasped into a prayer for those who'd been killed in action. The man seemed genuine enough in his prayers, and if he could help it, Minato didn't want to have to engage in battle in front of such a sacred place. The stone with the names of those honourably killed in action meant a lot to everyone in the village - damage the stone sustained from the crossfire of a fight was akin to trampling over and destroying a loved one's grave.
Besides, it wasn't like Minato managed to sneak up on the Copy-cat. As a shinobi who'd managed to merrily evade the Konoha teams sent to chase after him so many times, Minato didn't doubt the man had already sensed him, despite haven't moved a muscle.
When the Copy-cat gave a final bow before turning around towards the blond Jounin, Minato was still crouched low and tense, but otherwise looked harmless.
"Can I help you?" the Copy-cat asked conversationally, ignoring the fact he was on Konoha grounds, or that Minato was standing dangerously attentive beside him.
Minato allowed himself a second to glance over the man. "Let me guess, you're another clone," Minato said.
"Oh, good, you're catching on."
"What business do you have in Konoha?"
The man's head tilted to the side before a pale hand, slowly, as to show Minato he wasn't there to fight, gestured at the sleek black memorial stone. The petals of a fresh bundle of flowers at the base of the stone fluttered gently. "Paying my respects," he answered as if Minato couldn't have seen for himself.
"For whom?"
"Aaah…" If Minato wasn't mistaken, the man's dark eyes seemed to drift towards the uncarved, unblemished space of the stone. Behind his eyes, names Minato couldn't see engraved themselves onto the surface. "To those who gave their lives to the village, their people, and their children without a second thought."
The Copy-cat's voice, despite its roughness, conveyed his pain of loss with every word he said. He was someone who'd lost a lot, and Minato would hazard a guess that the man was only still holding strong despite all that because he was trying his hardest to live his life for them. The air between the two shinobi lingered with understanding in the pause before Minato spoke up once more. "You do realise you are illegally trespassing Konoha grounds," Minato stated firmly, not allowing himself to be swayed by compassion for the other man.
The Copy-cat ninja only shook his head softly as he let his gaze drift off into the distance.
"I will escort you to Anbu holding to be taken for questioning due to your actions. If you are not to comply quietly, I will be required to use force," Minato continued with a voice kept as neutral as he could make it.
"I am just a clone," the Copy-cat said softly, head thrown upwards, staring up into the orange-hazed sky and only then seeming to notice the time, "and not one who will last much longer." The Copy-cat was always a clone, it seemed. It was so often that some of the jounin were starting to joke that there was no real body, but endless clones. Minato knew better, recalling the stomach wound the Copy-cat had obtained the first time they'd met. A sturdy clone could at the very most last through one or two light hits, but definitely not from a wound as deep as the one Minato recalled. Nor could one bleed.
"Nevertheless," Minato responded, persistent. If the Copy-cat had appeared once as the real body, there was a chance he would do it again. As long as there was no proof otherwise, Minato would take his word as a bluff.
Dark eyes flickered back down onto Minato the moment the blond took a step towards him. The scarfed man seemed to study him intently before tilting his head upwards again, words softly breathed through his lips, "Stubbornness is a good trait. You know, there is so much I want to do sometimes; so many people I want to help. But there is so little I can do with my actions restricted, and having to slowly, cautiously test out how far I can push the limit before I find myself losing everything I'm trying so hard to fight for. I have to fight not just everyone around, but myself as well. If this was you, what would you do?"
The Copy-cat glanced over at Minato, who refused to show any reaction. Yet, a wiry smile formed when the man saw his face. The Copy-cat schooled his face back to a nonchalant expression a second later as he leaned backwards, compelling Minato to take another step towards him. "I honestly am not a threat to Konoha, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline coming with you," the man stoutly, acting like the short monologue had not occurred, "Goodbye."
Perhaps the soliloquy had been said as nothing more than distraction, trying to throw Minato for a loop, but whatever it was, it didn't dull the blond's reactions. Before the man even finished his parting sentence, Minato's hand already had a three-pronged kunai clutched in it, already propelling it towards the man in the next heartbeat. Unlike most ninjas, however, the man didn't try to knock the weapon out of the way in pure instinct; he didn't stay present for that little extra second more that gave Minato enough time to transport himself in front of the Copy-cat. Instead the man had stared at the unique three prongs of the kunai, gave a chuckle at it, and quickly puffed out of existence, leaving nothing more but tendrils of white smoke weaved up the sky to freedom. Minato growled, standing solitarily in front of the stone with frustration stretched on every line of his face.
"Lost him," Minato muttered, rubbing a gloved hand to his face. There was anger within him at the loss, but what Minato hated the most with each meeting with the Copy-cat was not his lost chance at capturing the man, but how slowly and surely, Minato was starting to feel convinced the Copy-cat was not a threat to Konoha - not unless they harmed the people close to him - despite the lack of concrete evidence to support this assumption.
Even if Kakashi could easily claim that he loved being younger, he honestly couldn't care less about his age. It wasn't being seven that he enjoyed, but rather having everyone who he'd once taken for granted around him with their faces whole, flushed, and alive. In fact, if pressed hard enough, Kakashi would likely admit he actually cursed his age.
Being short, prepubescent, and underestimated, Kakashi could take in stride. It may irk him at times, but in the end, it never bother Kakashi much, knowing how much he gained in exchange for that. The problem was that Kakashi sometimes felt like he was losing himself to the conscious of the child within him. He'd noticed a discrepancy in the actions of his current self in comparison to how he'd been before this regression. He was more emotional, having a harder time controlling the swirling, overflowing sentiments that seemed to demand to be allowed to flow out of the corked bottle he'd gotten used to habitually stuffing it in. Kakashi had tried to place the problem down to the shocking experience brought by time traveling, even while another part of him knew perfectly well he was being pulled into the temperance of a child.
Kakashi had tried to brush it off at first, merely telling himself (hoping to himself) that it would pass with time. But it hadn't. And somewhere along the lines, Kakashi realised that it wasn't just his emotions; as he looked back on his actions, Kakashi had a feeling that perhaps his judgement had been compromised as well.
Kakashi had followed his marred instincts on how to act, realising only much too late they were not to be trusted. Sometimes he'd immerse himself too deeply in his emotions and role when he'd been trying to make the most of his time with his family, and short of being an 'emotionless, detached tool' like how shinobi were traditionally taught to be, it was impossible to keep himself distanced enough from this long-forgotten feeling of bliss to not fall into the trap of being seven.
Maybe if Kakashi had been his child-self - the one who'd strived to be the perfect tool, throwing away his heart so not even a drop of feeling could seep into it - then maybe he wouldn't have made these mistakes, never allowing his emotions to overrule reason (but then again, as that Kakashi, would he have loved Konoha enough to try changing her future in the first place?).
Kakashi could name a few separate occasions where his impatience, childish compliantness and conceitedness overtook his logic, and his actions were incited by overpowering emotions. Lessons strengthened through time and experience were trampled upon by the vanity and short-sightedness of his child-self who was guiding (dragging) him through his actions. This mentality was something kids shed as their cognitive ability improved - things that Kakashi had shed as he matured. But now they were back.
The thought of that made Kakashi uncomfortable because if he wanted to change the future, he couldn't afford any mistakes. Life was rolling by relatively calmly at the moment, but that would not be the case forever; not with the impending war just up ahead. Kakashi couldn't afford to second guess himself, wondering if something he had on his mind was truly a good plan that even his Anbu-self would agree on, or instead something skeptical, influenced slightly by the child mentality that was insisting on taking reign of his body and mind.
Kakashi had been trying to work on that unfortunate situation, and along the way, he grew more and more comfort in the times he henged into a taller form, comforted by the reminder of his actual age by the sight of this older body. He felt like himself once more - everything felt more familiar, looking at the world in this correct height. It was a way to remind himself that he was a man. He was twenty-something-or-another (he'd stopped keeping track himself a while ago), not seven. He wasn't a kid, and he wouldn't let himself fall completely into a child-like mentality, no matter how quickly and easily the child was dragging him into his pace.
As far as the henge went, while it was a henge of a taller form he used when training in the village, Kakashi knew better than to pull up that scarfed ninja disguise he'd been using around on missions. No, he'd henged into some nondescript shinobi who no one would look twice at, who would blend in into the handful of nameless shinobi that practiced around the Training Area, and who was much less conspicuous and less sought after than that the scarfed figure or even a prodigious seven-year-old.
Somewhere along the lines of separating out his disguises, Kakashi had started relating that scarfed figure with his past self. Even more so now that he had been using his moniker 'Copy-cat' for it. The Copy-cat had been everything he'd once associated with his older self, except for physical characteristics. So, it was no surprised that some things just didn't feel right unless Kakashi was going as 'himself'; like the memorial stone for instance – because it wasn't the seven-year-old Kakashi who had lost his loved ones in the upcoming wars, but his older self and all the qualities he'd connected to that self, who his comrades had sacrificed their lives for. It felt dishonourable to pray and promise them a better future in a form foreign to those unscripted names.
Kakashi was well aware of the dangers of appearing as the Copy-cat, but in the end, he threw out a clone with the instructions to pop before anyone got close.
Even so expecting of company, Minato's appearance was a shock. It startled him because Kakashi had been so immersed in the future, weaving promises and thanks through words of prayers that when Minato appeared over the sight of his own twenty-something-year-old hands clasped in front of him, Kakashi couldn't help but think for a hint of a second that he was back in the future, and Minato's ghost was standing over his back giving him a sign that everything was going to be okay from now on.
But Kakashi wasn't back in the future, and frankly that made everything even better. Because Kakashi still hadn't given up yet (and in the end, no matter what, he wouldn't. That was for sure) and he absolutely refused to give in to the child yearning to take over within his self. Even if Kakashi allowed himself to act childish around his dear family, he would not let it overtake all his senses - a child may not be able to, but man like him could restraint himself when necessary. With a solemn 'goodbye', Kakashi let his clone disperse in the memorial area, while back at home, Kakashi let the words he's swore in front of that stone carry him on.
A/N: hmm, a lot has changed since this chapter had been initially drafted. Kakashi was initially supposed to get small little headaches and stuff after his father's death from him suppressing his child-self and trying to act more like adult-kakashi as he tried to get through it. After this chapter, where he realises he's still been making childish mistakes and tries supressing it more, he was supposed to start getting major headaches, which later on starts messing up his plans. But, well, I axed that...
