Beta: Eretein. (Thank you for so much.) Also, she's published a RWBY fic called Artificer. Give her love.
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, only the Oc.
...
I haven't seen Kakashi Hatake in ten years. Not since we tried killing each other.
"Are you sure Kakashi is the only option?" I said.
The Hokage sitting behind his desk frowned.
My lips pressed into a fine line as I glanced out the window. The Hokage sighed and inhaled his pipe three times.
"I gave you tutelage of Naruto. And you are no better," he said.
I drummed my fingers against my thigh, frowning and looking at the stationery on the desk.
The decision was already made. He was the Hokage, and his decisions were orders.
My objections didn't matter. If he believed Kakashi Hatake was the best option to be Naruto's sensei then I should just shut my mouth and let him do his job.
"Kakashi needs it," he said.
I bit my lip, blood crawling over my tongue. What do I care about Kakashi?
If Naruto wanted to be a ninja, then I'd try to understand. If he wanted to be recognized and become Hokage, then I'd accompany him. Even if he went on dangerous missions.
Besides, Naruto could handle all of that. Because he would be with a sensei. Any sensei.
But I couldn't protect him from my brother.
It was ridiculous. Every single part of it.
Kakashi lived through two wars, and surely he still wanted to be with the ANBU. I bit the corner of my thumb. Kakashi was a prodigy, yet he wanted to waste it as a sensei.
Three knocks came from the door.
I lowered my thumb and looked at the Hokage. What?
"Come in, Kakashi," the Hokage said.
My heart pounded. Thudding against my ribs. Stealing the air from my lungs. My arms tightened. Constricting my chest.
Footsteps padded over wood. Walking towards me.
Sakumo's voice rang in my head.
Look people in the eye, Hanare, he used to tell me when I hid behind his legs, that shows confidence.
Luckily, Sakumo wasn't alive.
On the other hand, he would be more disappointed to learn the same children he raised treated each other like strangers.
Kakashi stood next to me, his hands in his pockets and his back hunched. And of course, he doesn't even spare me a glance.
I listened to all this feigning interest, which any civilian would do. I knew the whole thing about being shinobi. Growing up surrounded by ninjas didn't make me indifferent.
And the Hokage knew it.
So what?
Why give me a bad time? Did he want to keep up appearances with Kakashi?
The Hokage continued speaking.
Kakashi was two heads taller than me – and I was suddenly a girl again. A girl in the square, surrounded by other children, their fingers pointed at her.
"Silly, silly. There's something you don't know," they used to sing to me.
Why was the Hokage talking so slow?
The tutors' introduction to the sensei was a mere formality. I wanted this all to end. I need to go home and clear my mind.
The Hokage asked Kakashi if he had anything to add.
I sighed, my muscles loosening.
Kakashi looked at the Hokage and tilted his head towards me.
I stared at his shoes.
"Mmm?" Kakashi drags the words. "Not much. Actually, and with all due respect, this is all pointless. Naruto won't pass my exam. He doesn't meet the requirements to be a ninja."
I glared at him.
The Hokage touched the bridge of his nose.
I pressed my nails against my thigh.
What did he say about Naruto?
I glanced at Kakashi's kunai. The weapon peeked out of his pouch. It'd just take a second to snatch it. Then another to shank him.
The Hokage cleared his throat as if he knew what I was going to do.
Then I was dismissed.
I bowed, looking at Kakashi.
"You'd be surprised what ninja's like Naruto can do, " I said. "Sometimes they save cowardly and arrogant ones."
If Kakashi was surprised or upset, he didn't show it. He simply curled his only visible.
He was smiling.
I left the office with the Hokages weary sigh.
I loped past the exit, the warm wind stroking my face as I blew out the air in my lungs.
My legs buckled even as I held on to the railing.
In.
Out.
I tried to calm my lungs with slow, steady breaths.
Surely, the Hokage wanted to give me a speech because of my outburst.
The reputation of Kakashi Hatake in the mission in which Obito Uchiha died, and then in which Rin Nohara died—the true history—only haunted the acquaintances of the famous copy ninja.
All his friends knew the other part of his story and a simple civilian had told him as if it was nothing.
I was not part of that circle of friends.
Although at one point, I was.
I thought of many possibilities, sure. But never one where Kakashi became Naruto's sensei.
Sakumo used to tell me when he felt lost and depressed over his past mistakes, he
would write them down so he would never see them again.
I shuffled home, my shoulders slumped. The bustle and the chatter of the villagers stabbed my ears like needles.
I didn't worry about buying food. Naruto would not arrive until later. His teammates and sensei would be assigned to him.
Our house was on the outskirts of town, on the other side of the Akimichi residence. Every time I passed, the smell of fried meat made my stomach rumble. But this time, my stomach churned.
We lived in a duplex, a modest place a maid could afford. An old woman lived underneath. But now, I never saw her as she was locked up all the time.
Every time I saw her, I used to say hello. She was one of the few people who didn't care about Naruto's presence. Also, it was the only place where we were not disturbed. They didn't throw stones at our doors, nor did they raise the rent.
I open the door. For a moment, a lump twisted in my throat. I needed Naruto's screams. I needed it to remind myself I shouldn't regret allowing him to be a ninja.
He was still scared. Surely, I woke up half the village last night when I reprimanded him.
I took off my boots in the hallway and looked at the closet mirror as I shut the door.
My face was pale and the dark circles were more prominent under my eyes.
My stomach churned and the room spun.
I covered my mouth with my hand and stumbled to the bathroom. My stomach burned. Brown cereal mixed with rancid milk spewed from my lips.
The remains of my breakfast went down the toilet, the water swirling in my ears.
I sighed, rummaging through the drawer. I wasn't supposed to see Kakashi again, that was the deal. I left the Hatake residence and settled at the other end of the village. They had changed my role, saying I came from another village and would be the guardian of Jinchūriki for safety.
I rinsed my face and looked at the mirror. Carefully, I pulled back the strand that covered half of my face. The scar spread like the roots of a tree. It started on my chin and ended before it touched my eye.
I ran my fingertips over it. It began to spread through that area. I grimaced. it hadn't bothered me for a long time.
Something was wrong.
The table in the center of the place, the armchair against the wall.
I went to the window. In the other apartment next to mine, the neighbor frowned and closed the blinds.
I went back in through the box in the trash, closed my eyes, and sniffed the air. The smell of ramen permeated the room. But there was another smell I couldn't make out. I took the carton of milk to the table.
I shook it. It was overdue. I bit my lip.
Not the smell.
I opened the door to Naruto's room. I picked up the sheets scattered on the floor and put them in the laundry bag.
My nose wrinkled.
It was a faint wet dog smell spreading throughout his room.
I closed his door, biting my lip and drawing a thread of blood.
I went to my room.
I always made sure it was properly closed. Also, Naruto was forbidden to be in my room.
When I opened the door, my room was exactly as it was when I left it this morning.
I only had two shelves full of books, a desk I hardly ever used, and my bed.
I stopped again and remembered the look in the Hokage's eyes he shared with Kakashi. In his eyes, there was a glint of disappointment I knew too well.
"Kakashi will be Naruto sensei, and he's already been looking into it," he said.
Of course, when he named Kakashi, I hadn't paid attention to his last words.
I snorted and massaged my forehead. It could have been years, but Kakashi was still as stealthy as ever.
Sakumo had trained him well in his short life.
Although I didn't mention Sakumo gave me a few tricks up my sleeve too.
I went to my bookshelf, hoping that Kakashi had only seen and not touched anything.
I had kept it since I was adopted. It was Sakumo's first gift, and although there were incomplete parts, those parts remain in my memory, stabbing my back with every action I take.
Maybe it was because I had finally understood Sakumo's advice about writing down the memories and never seeing them again. Maybe to find out what I did wrong. Be that as it may, I dusted off my desk and took pages out the drawer.
I began to write, digging into myself.