Four years.
It has been four years since the attack of Kyuubi no Kitsune to the Leaf Village. Four years since the only family he had left passed away, leaving behind a tiny remnant of their presence in the form of a baby, so much like his father that Kakashi only managed to visit him once before promising himself that he would never do it again. Don't misunderstand, he was his sensei's son and Kakashi wanted to protect him, but everyone he loved was competent or legendary shinobi and all of them died, how could he let himself be captivated by something as vulnerable as a baby? He hoped Yondaime and his wife forgive him, but his heart could not take another blow like this and Kami forgive him, but he would not end up like his father. No! He should keep his distance. At least that was what he believed until one year ago.
One year ago was the three-year anniversary of the attack of The Fox, celebrated by the families in honor of the loved ones (ninjas and civilians) who lost their lives during the tragedy. Kakashi, who had just returned to the village after a long-term mission in Kumogakure, was on his way to the Hokage Tower in order to make his report when a movement in an alley was noticed. Very suspicious considering the lack of people on the streets and the funeral date. Everything in his being told him that he would regret bitterly if he chose to ignore that commotion and if there was something the war and Ambu taught him was to trust in his instincts, so that was what he did and the vision he had made his eyes been dominated by scarlet and not because of sharingan.
~~~~~ ⊙ ~~~~~ ⊙ ~~~~~
It was a moonless night, the kind where you can't see anything but a foot away and the house's lights had already gone out hours ago. But again, Kakashi was a captain Ambu, he was used to situations like these. No, the problem was not the darkness, the problem was the silence. The houses, the streets, the city as a whole was absurdly quiet, leading each meager sound, at least to his trained ears, to spread and potentialize in extraordinary proportions, and this made it difficult to approach.
Not knowing whether the people in the alley were shinobi or civilians, the copying ninja chose to get closer slowly, walking lightly and carefully on the buildings' roofs. Maintaining this rhythm and taking advantage of the silence, he soon heard voices coming from the alley.
-Are you sure this will work?
- Would you shut up?! - By the way it was spoken, it was implied that that conversation has already been repeated several times, followed by a loud sigh and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor almost simultaneously with a high-pitched noise, which sounded so muffled that Kakashi was unable to determine what it was. Quickly a new voice, probably the same that sighed earlier, joined the others:
- Look, we already talked about it. Everything has been fixed, no one is going to press charges, no one is going to care, everyone wants it to go away. Even if someone finds out, for whoever it is, we will be heroes.
Finally, Kakashi reached the alley. Leaning on the balls of his feet, with his elbows leaned on his kneecaps aparted, the masked man bent to watch over the gutter of a house when a faint light allowed him to see the picture before him. The alley was relatively wide, but its width was minimized by the presence of dumpsters, bins and debris, which were now scattered, broken or with the contents spreaded on the floor. Everything suggested the occurrence of a fight, which was confirmed by the condition of those who were there. There were three men dressed in black, the first appeared to be the youngest (maybe 15 years old) and was the one with more injuries, several cuts of varying sizes and depths were distributed throughout his body, a dark bruise and a large amount of blood indicated that his nose had been twisted, if not broken, his fists clenched and his posture identified him as the irritated man before.
- Remember everything we lost.
The second had no visible injuries and was older than the first, but not more than seven or eight years old. He was holding a candle almost at its end (the only source of light in the vicinity) and the way he clung to it with both hands and shifted his weight from one foot to the other made his nervousness evident, Kakashi recognized him as the first voice. And then there was the owner of the third voice: older and stronger than the other two, he was the only one whose appearance and posture suggested a history in the shinobi forces: his face was rigid, without any sights of emotion and marked by a long scar which began in his demi-gray hair, passing through the deformed left ear and continued below the collar of his shirt. His clothes were full of tears, some of which showed small cuts on his skin. Despite this, he seemed to be comforting the second.
- I am not a shinobi anymore, but I can still protect my village and you can help me. My career, Tanaka's parents and you family, Asami, we do this for them and for Konoha. They deserve justice.
A whimper took Kakashi's concentration from the three men and awarened him to a detail that had passed unnoticed: next to the old ninja's feet, there was a large black bag, the contents of which seemed to be moving.
- It seems that our little guest woke up. - said the youngest (Tanaka) with a tone of sick happiness in his tune before kicking the package with the force of all the weight of his body.
A high-pitched, blood-chilling scream echoed through the alley and spread around, impossible to ignore, and yet no lights were turned on and no windows were opened.
Something snapped inside Kakashi and in less than five seconds the three men were on the floor grunting in pain, not knowing what hit them while the copying ninja landed on a balcony with the package safely in his arms. He undid the knot and revealed its contents, fatally confirming his suspicions: in the bag was a child. It was a little boy, small and thin, around two or three years old, the color of his tangled hair was unrecognizable under the dry blood that also marched his inflamed face, with a crooked nose and teared lower lip, as well as the cloth resting on his chin, probably a gag that the child managed to get rid of. His ankles and hands were tied and arranged in a fetal position, seeking to protect the chest that moved slowly and weakly, resting on ribs that were certainly bruised.
"Please, save me," the child pleaded in a tune just above a whisper.
-Don't worry, I'll take care of you.
-Promise?
But Ambu's mind was occupied with thoughts of another little boy with spiky hair. How could someone in his own village be so brutal with a child?
"We did nothing he didn't deserve," said the older man, struggling on one knee.
-How could a child deserve this?
-That's not a child! It's a monster! - Tanaka said, looking at the young kid in his arms with scorn that he had not seen since the war. - He destroyed my life and the life of several others in the village! We are only doing what others do not have the courage to do!
Monster?
-Promise?
-This thing should have been destroyed three years ago, we are just finishing what Yondaime started.
Three years? Yondaime?
-Promise?
-Please! He killed my wife! He killed my son! - The second man, Asami, begged on his hands and knees, crying tears. - What would you do to someone w8ho destroyed everything you loved? Everything that was important in your life!?
Oh Kami ...
Kakashi was astonished, the entire context finally falling into place in his mind. He was petrified, until two little hands touched his mask and moved his head, making his dark eyes meet blues, which he had seen so many times in another person and now looked at him as if imploring ...
"Do you promise?" His sensei's son pleaded before unconsciousness took him over and his head found the breastplate of the Ambu uniform.
- WHAT WOULD YOU DO!?
Kakashi carefully laid Naruto on the floor, stood up and then turned to Asami.
- It looks like you're going to find out really soon.
And then, the dark and silent night was filled with the light of the lightning and the song of the thousand birds.
~~~~~ ⊙ ~~~~~ ⊙ ~~~~~
-ashi, can you hear me? KAKASHI!
Kakashi was removed from his memories by that little voice whose owner now tugged at the sleeve of his uniform and stared at him, eyebrows frowned together and eyes full of concern.
-Gomen, gomen. - the Jounin apologized, scratching his neck- I think I got lost wondering about life.
The boy's face fell in exasperation, but quickly a brilliant smile took its place.
-Yoshi ! To Ichiraku, Dattebayo!
The blond Uzumaki speeded ahead and Kakashi followed close behind, his hands hidden by his vest pockets and the smile hidden by the cloth mask.