Long chapter today. Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Legacy
Kakashi shuddered as a foreign chakra pulled his consciousness to the surface. He tried to resist, but the warm, bright chakra was as unyielding as the rising of the dawn, and he was drawn in like a moth to the flame.
Foggy memories of waking to his father's face hovering over him flooded his mind, along with the subsequent shock and pain as he'd stabbed himself in desperation to escape the genjutsu.
But it wasn't a genjutsu.
He must be dead, then. That was the only explanation. The shinobi spirit had claimed he was sending Kakashi back to the land of the living, but clearly, he had lied and used Kakashi as his sacrifice. How else would he see the face of his deceased father? His left arm throbbed where he'd stabbed himself. It was a bit strange he'd still had his kunai in the afterlife, but then, who was he to judge what was normal after death?
Kakashi groaned as his senses returned. A dank chill surrounded him, as if he were underground. He was sitting on an equally-cold stone bench, his back resting against a rough stone wall. He attempted to move his arms, but cold metal dug into his wrists, stopping him short. Chains?
So, he must not be in the Pure Land. A slight huff escaped his chapped lips. He wasn't surprised. He wouldn't let himself into the Pure Land either.
A slight pressure on the top of his head lifted. "He's awake, Sarutobi-sensei."
Kakashi jolted at the feminine voice and raised his head. The same blonde woman who had been with his father stood in front of him, her eyes luminous as amber honey in the flickering light. Her chakra had woken him? He blinked, sifting through muddled thoughts. She must be some goddess or spirit, which would explain her unnatural beauty. Perhaps she was the one who would decide his fate.
"Goddess." He coughed, but his voice was still barely more than a rasp in his parched throat. "I accept whatever fate you have for me. I know with all I have done... I do not deserve to go to the Pure Land. Just get it over with."
The goddess gaped at him. "... I'm sorry?"
Loud, bellowing laughter echoed off the stone walls surrounding them. "Oi, Tsuna! He thinks you're some kind of goddess." More chuckling. "That's a new one, huh?"
"Shut up, Jiraiya!" Tsuna turned to glare at someone on the left, her cheeks red-streaked.
What...?
Kakashi slowly followed her gaze, head throbbing. His stomach plunged as he struggled to comprehend what his eye was telling him. Through the bars of a cell—his cell—stood four shadowy figures. In the direct torchlight was a much younger Sarutobi Hiruzen, free of wrinkles and his hair a dark brown. Next to him, a tall man with bushy white hair and a wide grin. His favorite author and the legendary Sannin, Jiraiya, though he looked at least two decades younger than when Kakashi had last seen him. He focused on the quiet figure behind Jiraiya, and his blood went cold. Pale, with snake-like features and long black hair. His pulse thudded in his ears. The last time he'd seen Orochimaru...
The killing intent flooded the clearing like a black tidal wave. Kakashi had never felt such malevolent power as it seeped into his muscle and bone, paralyzing him where he stood.
He now knew what it felt to be powerless. No doubt, just as Orochimaru had intended.
Movement behind the Sandaime snapped him out of the suffocating memory.
Kakashi stiffened. The silver-haired man of average height who'd stepped around the Sandaime was all too familiar. The sight of his slouched posture and hands in his pockets ripped into Kakashi's heart like a dull kunai. His hair was still pulled back into the long ponytail Kakashi had tugged on when he wanted attention, and he wore the same jōnin uniform Kakashi had found him in, the white sleeve rimmed with flames soaked in the pool of his father's blood.
Kakashi clamped his eyes shut. His chest released in a gasp and he dragged in lungfuls of air through his mask. Spasms seized his arms and hands, and he gripped his knees until his fingers ached from the strain.
Why was his father here?
It had to be a genjutsu. It had to be.
"What is going on?" the Sandaime demanded gruffly.
"I—I'm not sure." Tsuna's hesitant presence came closer, but he couldn't focus on her. He couldn't focus on anything. "He did believe he was in a genjutsu earlier. I think he's having some sort of panic attack."
"A what?" The Sandaime's voice drifted closer. "Can you calm him down? Interrogating him is the priority."
"When the mind is overwhelmed, the body reacts. But I don't know if... I'm not experienced with this. Maybe—"
"Can you do it or not?" the Sandaime cut her off. "I would prefer to keep this from anyone else, but I will call an iryō-nin if necessary."
"No need." Tsuna's voice was frigid. "I can do it."
Warm hands framed Kakashi's face. A flood of the same glowing, soothing chakra filled his body. The overwhelming, frantic pounding in his head and tremors in his limbs faded. It didn't vanish, but suddenly, he could think again. And with it, the knowledge that this was no genjutsu. Which only left one option.
An impossible option.
Kakashi opened his eye as he regained control of his breathing. The shinobi spirit hadn't lied. But he hadn't sent him back to his own time, either. Had the spirit somehow sent him to the past? Did that mean... the one who had summoned them was here, in the past with his father?
Focus. If he wanted answers, he had to focus.
Tsuna's face was inches away, her brow furrowed as she stared at him. Relief reflected in the depths of her honey eyes and eased the tension in her face. She pulled away. "Thank kami. Do you know your name?"
"Hatake Kakashi," he heard himself rasp, too stunned to consider if giving his name away was a good idea. In his peripheral, Sakumo moved forward, but he kept his gaze ahead. He couldn't look at his father. Not yet.
"Scarecrow?" Jiraiya muttered. "Odd name."
"It's a tradition of the Hatake clan," Sakumo said, and the familiar low, yet soft, timbre hit Kakashi like a punch in the gut. "Our clan originated from farmers, so it's the way we honor our heritage."
"I'll take it from here, Tsunade." The Sandaime stepped through the open cell door, red and white robes trailing after him.
"Yes, Sarutobi-sensei." Tsuna—Tsunade—bowed her head slightly, and exited the cell to stand with the others, arms folded under her chest. Jiraiya nudged her, but she ignored him; instead returning Kakashi's stare with narrowed eyes. He should have realized it earlier. She was Senju Tsunade, famed as the strongest kunoichi in the world and known as the main contributing factor to Konoha's victory in the Second War, pioneer of iryō ninjutsu, and the only member of the legendary Sannin he'd never seen in person.
But Rin... Rin had idolized her.
Kakashi returned his attention to the Sandaime, shaking off memories of Rin. Whether or not this was real, he would only get answers if he played along. For now, pretending to have amnesia would likely be the only way he could hide his lack of knowledge... he flinched as Sakumo slipped into the cell behind the Sandaime. They exchanged brief nods, and the Sandaime faced Kakashi.
"Hatake Kakashi, I am the Sandaime Hokage of Konohagakure." The Sandaime puffed on his pipe. "Hatake Sakumo found you unconscious in the cemetery yesterday morning, and I would like to know how you got there."
Jiraiya snorted. "And how he got past our border defenses."
The cemetery? His memories were hazy, but hadn't he heard a voice? The summoner. So, whoever had summoned Kakashi had abandoned him in the cemetery. Because he wasn't the other shinobi. The man who had refused to take his body.
None of which he could tell them. It wasn't as if he could claim he had been summoned from the future, even if he wanted to.
"I cannot remember." Kakashi avoided the Sandaime's piercing stare. But in spite of his best efforts, he was pulled to his father. Sakumo's eyes widened when Kakashi met his, and he offered a tentative smile.
Kakashi immediately dropped his gaze. His chest ached. It had been so long... he didn't know how to feel. Once, he had thought he could never forgive his father for leaving him. For disgracing their family. But now... he only wanted to feel his father's hand on his shoulder again.
"Hmm." The Sandaime lowered his pipe. "You likely realized this, but you have been sealed to prevent you from using chakra. It was a precautionary measure, you understand, especially with your transplanted Sharingan."
Kakashi tensed. His father's presence had driven all else from his mind, but now the binding sensation—pressure building in his chest against the seal, like flowing water in a dam—trapping his chakra was obvious. As was the Sandaime's threat. If he wanted to leave this cell, he would have to give a reason for them to do so.
"Surely there is something you remember, Hatake-san," Sakumo spoke up suddenly. "Most of my remaining clan resides in Uzushiogakure. I suspect that is why you have the same ANBU tattoo as Konoha?"
Their clan was in Uzushio? Kakashi stared at his father. He hadn't learned much of their clan history before his father had died, and Sakumo hadn't left anything behind. Was it because they had fallen in the destruction of Uzushio? Then... that must mean the Hidden Village founded by the Uzumaki hadn't yet met its end.
Kakashi cut off his thoughts. Uzushio had been an ally of Konoha, so it was also the best cover he was going to get. "I remember that I'm a shinobi in the ANBU of Uzushio. But something must have happened while I was on a mission. Everything else is a fog. I have no memory of entering Konoha."
"Perhaps some kind of space-time ninjutsu?" Sakumo suggested, glancing at the Sandaime. "That would explain how he got past the border."
"Convenient." Orochimaru didn't move from the shadows, but his golden snake-like eyes gleamed in the torchlight. "I fail to see how that explains your possession of a Sharingan, Hatake Kakashi. No Uchiha would give up their beloved dōjutsu."
Kakashi stared at his gloved fists and the darker patches of bloodstains marring the leather. Orochimaru's veiled accusation was reasonable, but still, anger burned in the pit of his stomach. "I would never steal a clan's sacred jutsu. It was given to me by a dying friend." He lifted his gaze to Orochimaru. "If you don't believe me, ask for yourself. I promise you that no Uchiha are missing a Sharingan."
Orochimaru merely smirked, like a predator who had cornered his prey. "A dying friend," he mused. "Then you wouldn't mind giving us the name of this Uchiha friend, hmm?"
Kakashi clamped his eyes shut. Why had he let Obito's memory get to him? But there was only one answer he could give. "I don't remember."
Orochimaru lifted his shoulder in a dismissive shrug. "I see no reason to keep him alive."
"Honestly, Oro." Tsunade sighed in exasperation. "We can't just execute a possible shinobi from Uzushio. Sharingan or not, he is still innocent, since we have no proof of any wrongdoing... for now."
"I agree with Tsunade-hime," Jiraiya said. "We shouldn't be hasty."
Tsunade scowled. "Stop calling me that."
"Oh, sure," Jiraiya grumbled. "You'll let that criminal call you a goddess, but your own teammate can't give a compliment?"
"I wasn't expecting that! I didn't let him do anything," Tsunade shot back. "And he's a criminal now? What happened to not being hasty?"
"Enough, you two." The Sandaime exhaled a cloud of smoke. "We will not be executing anyone. But his Sharingan must stay in Konoha, and since Hatake Kakashi has no evidence for his innocence or claim of amnesia, he will stay imprisoned here until more information is gathered."
Jiraiya scratched his large nose. "I don't see a need for all of this drama. Why don't we just get a Yamanaka in here to do their mind stuff? Problem solved."
He was conditioned to resist mind invasions, but there was only so long he could hold out against a well-trained Yamanaka. If they entered his mind, it would all be over. His gaze slid to Orochimaru. If they discovered he was from the future, what would happen to him?
"Kami, Jiraiya." Tsunade glared at her teammate. "Have you not been paying attention? We can't perform such an invasive interrogation jutsu on a Uzushio shinobi without their council's written consent. He could be lying, but we can't risk it. Our relations with the other countries are already unstable as is."
Jiraiya folded his arms sullenly. "Excuse me for not being as politically aware as you, Hime. We aren't all clan heiresses, you know."
Tsunade's mouth tightened, and she shifted her glare to the floor instead of replying.
"I think we are finished here," the Sandaime announced, with more than a little relief. "If there are any changes in your amnesia, Hatake Kakashi, I will be open to changing your verdict. However, you will be staying down here for the foreseeable future."
Sakumo's head lifted abruptly. "Sandaime-sama, I believe him."
He did? Kakashi stared at his father, but Sakumo was focused on the Sandaime, his shoulders squared and jaw set. A sigh shuddered free. His father believed him. Somehow, that knowledge mattered more to him than his fate in this cell.
The Sandaime blinked. "Your faith is admirable, White Fang. But that does not change what must be done."
"Then allow me to make a request," Sakumo said, undeterred. At the Sandaime's nod, he continued evenly, "It's true that we cannot let the Sharingan out of the village. But I do not think that leaving Kakashi down here will help our situation. Let him stay with me while retaining his seal, and perhaps we can figure out a way to restore some of his memories. At the least, I will be able to observe him and determine if he is a threat."
Stay with...? Kakashi's chest cramped painfully. He still wasn't sure if he had somehow traveled to the past or if this was some kind of illusion or dream, but that suddenly didn't seem important. Real or not, he had his father back. Too many things were uncertain, but right now, his father was in front of him.
"Hmm." The Sandaime tapped his pipe on his chin. "That is a risky proposition."
"Then I am asking as his fellow clan member and the head of the Hatake clan in Konoha," Sakumo's voice tightened imperceptibly. "Let me take care of this. Do you truly think a sealed shinobi will be a danger while under the watch of the White Fang?"
The Sandaime cleared his throat. "Very well. I will leave him in your care for now."
Kakashi lowered his head, certain he wouldn't be able to hide the emotion churning through him. He would be living with his father again. A tremor seized his hands. His father.
"Sarutobi-sensei, are you sure that's wise?" Tsunade's hard stare swept over Kakashi. "He has a Sharingan. What if the Uchiha discover it?"
"They won't. I will trust Hatake Sakumo with this." The Sandaime inclined his head and turned to the cell door. "The knowledge of this Sharingan will remain among the five of us. Understood?"
"Yes, Sarutobi-sensei," Jiraiya muttered.
Tsunade and Orochimaru nodded, but their expressions remained unreadable.
"Thank you, Sandaime-sama." Sakumo bowed slightly.
"Hatake Kakashi will remain under a probationary period until I see fit to release him," the Sandaime stated. "But I think it would be wise to keep him occupied when you have other matters to deal with, Sakumo. What tasks would be appropriate?"
Kakashi finally lifted his head. Tasks?
"The training grounds are always in need of repair," Tsunade offered, a glint to her gaze. "And he would be surrounded by shinobi."
Jiraiya scoffed. "You're only suggesting that because you don't want to deal with more complaints."
Tsunade rolled her eyes. "I haven't gotten that many complaints."
"Twenty-six," Orochimaru murmured from his place in the corner.
Jiraiya burst into laughter.
Tsunade flushed pink and spun on Orochimaru, her blonde ponytail smacking Jiraiya in the face, ending his chuckling with a sputter. "Oro! You're taking his side? You always agree with me!"
Orochimaru shrugged, but a smirk hinted at the corner of his mouth. "Not always."
Kakashi couldn't deny it was strange to observe the future legendary Sannin behaving in such a manner, but something about their interactions eased the knot in his stomach. Kakashi exchanged a glance with Sakumo before he realized what he was doing. But his father held his gaze, dark eyes warm. His pulse subsided a little, and Kakashi managed a slight nod of thanks.
"Upkeep of the training grounds will suffice," the Sandaime said, ignoring his former students. "Sakumo, I will provide you with a schedule."
"Yes, Sandaime-sama." Sakumo bowed. "Am I allowed to release him?"
"Go ahead." The Sandaime handed Sakumo the key, and took his leave out of the cell. "Contact me with any developments."
"Of course." Sakumo grasped Kakashi's wrist, and he was unable to stop a flinch at his father's touch.
If Sakumo noticed, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he unlocked the manacles, and the chains clanked to the floor. Kakashi awkwardly massaged his wrists, though he felt no pain. Why was he stalling? Didn't he want this? Large, warm hands gripped his arms, and Sakumo hosted him to his feet.
Kakashi stared at his father's familiar face, and the same wide, crooked smile he'd grown up seeing every day. Sakumo patted his shoulder, then turned to the cell door. "Come. Let's go home."
Home.
Kakashi braced his shoulders and started after his father, ignoring the suspicious stares of the Sannin as he brushed past Tsunade and Jiraiya.
"See you around, Hatake Kakashi," Orochimaru's mocking whisper followed him out.
Kakashi squinted in the sunlight as he and Sakumo emerged from the special holding cells beneath the Hokage Tower. Once his eye adjusted, he took in the Konoha surrounding him. Many of the larger buildings were simply... gone. Instead, massive trees filled the gaps, branches swaying peacefully in the breeze. Citizens and shinobi walked past, laughing and talking as they always did, but their numbers were easily half of what Kakashi had observed after his meeting with the much-older Sandaime.
A smaller and quieter Konoha. It was all so... foreign. But what had he expected? It was at least twenty-two years before his current time.
Kakashi turned, searching for the one constant he had woken up to every morning. Past the tower, the Hokage Rock loomed over Konoha. The sight of the familiar, permanent fixture was soothing, though only three faces gazed out over Konohagakure. But then, Minato-sensei likely wasn't even a genin yet.
"Welcome to Konohagakure, Hatake Kakashi," Sakumo said; his cheerfulness a bit forced. "I know we haven't perhaps given you the best impression so far, but I hope you can understand our reasons. We are shinobi, after all."
"I understand." More than his father realized.
Sakumo smiled. "If you are who you say, then I am certain the Sandaime will lift your probation soon enough."
Kakashi nodded, but he lowered his head so his father couldn't see the emotion he was certain reflected there. "Otō—Sakumo-san. Thank you for believing me."
"Hmm." Sakumo tilted his head, short silver bangs swaying over his hitai-ate. "I admit, you intrigue me, Hatake Kakashi. We have a lot to talk about, but that can wait. You look like you could use some rest."
"Sakumo-san, wait!" Senju Tsunade sprinted from the base of the Hokage Tower, blonde ponytail flying.
"Tsunade-hime." Sakumo paused and bowed respectfully. "What can I do for you?"
Tsunade halted a few feet from Kakashi—sending him a brief side-eye—and blew a strand of hair out of her unnaturally pretty face as she focused on Sakumo. "Why did you ask for my help when we found him in the cemetery?"
Sakumo seemed surprised, though based on the way his gaze had thoughtfully turned upward, he was taking her question seriously. "You mean, was it because you were conveniently in the right place at the right time?"
"In a way." Tsunade propped her hands on her hips, and the action was so unlike the usual meek deference shown to his father, Kakashi had to blink. She cleared her throat. "I apologize for interrupting. I didn't have a chance to ask you earlier."
Kakashi considered her. Seeing his father had driven all other thoughts from his mind, but he would be a fool if he didn't analyze those holding his leash. He had no doubt Tsunade was one of those few. Knowing your opponent was the best way to gain an edge in a conflict. Right now, Senju Tsunade was an unknown.
He didn't like the unknown. There was only one way to rectify that. His time in ANBU had made it a habit to profile those he met, both to be prepared and to analyze whether or not they were a threat.
He would do the same for Senju Tsunade. Pretty face and painted nails aside, he had no intention of underestimating her.
"No need to apologize." Sakumo said easily. "As for your question, I asked for your help because I needed an iryō-nin. If it had been anyone else, I would have sent them for help, not asked for it."
"I see." Tsunade bit her lip. "Well... I, um, appreciate your trust in my abilities."
Sakumo smiled. "And I appreciate your help, Tsunade-hime. Your skills are something this village needs."
Tsunade's blonde eyebrows furrowed, as if Sakumo was a foreign species. "You're an odd man, Sakumo-san." Her gaze slid to Kakashi; expression guarded. "Are you certain about this? It would be safer to leave him in the cell."
Sakumo's eyes were unreadable. "I am."
A flicker of frustration crossed Tsunade's face, but she only sighed. "I understand your interest in this shinobi, but he hasn't done anything to gain our trust. Just... tread carefully."
She didn't mince words. Or, apparently, care if he knew her low opinion of him. He could appreciate that.
He put brutally honest in his mental profile.
Sakumo's mouth twitched, then slanted upward. "I'll be careful, Tsunade-hime. Thank you for your concern."
Tsunade glanced toward the center of Konoha. "Are you taking him through the village?"
Sakumo nodded. "Yes. Our path home follows the Naka River."
"Take this, then." Tsunade shrugged off her blue haori and tossed it at Kakashi. He jerked his hands out of his pockets to catch the ballooning fabric before it smacked him in the face. "He's a walking eyesore. If he covers up that armor and tattoo, he won't attract as much unwanted attention."
"Ah, thank you. I didn't think of that." Sakumo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
Kakashi stared at the bundle of blue wadded in his hands. Her reasoning made sense, but that didn't stop him from cringing as he shoved his arms through the sleeves. He made an effort to breathe through his mouth, but his sensitive nose still caught the feminine scent of white jasmine and he coughed. His father was staring at him pointedly, so he obediently muttered, "Thanks."
Tsunade's smirk widened, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "I expect it to be washed before you return it, Hatake-san."
Kakashi dipped his chin, making no attempt to hide his narrowed gaze. Tsunade returned his stare with a raised eyebrow, but he ignored her—though he did observe her toned muscles, revealed by the absence of her haori, and proof that she spent considerable time training. Something to add to the profile.
"I have a clan meeting to get to." Tsunade turned, then hesitated, her expression hidden by blonde bangs. "Sakumo-san... if he shows side effects from his amnesia, would you let me know? I may be able to help."
After all that, she was offering to help him? No… the answer came to Kakashi a moment later. She was a healer, or at least was on her way to be, and from what he had observed, those who healed did so without discrimination. Apparently, those instincts were enough to prevail over her obvious distrust of him. Frowning, he made another addition to the profile of her.
One that was growing increasingly confusing. And he didn't like confusing.
Sakumo looked as surprised as he felt, but his response was quick. "Thank you, Tsunade-hime. I will let you know."
Tsunade only lifted her hand in response, already on her way back to the Hokage Tower.
Leaving him alone with his father.
Kakashi curled his gloved hands into fists and found himself staring at Sakumo's white and red sleeve. No matter how surreal it felt to be standing next to his father... here he was. But for how long? He didn't even know if he was truly here, or if this was some kind of dream. If this was real... if he really was in the past with his father... it was almost too much to comprehend.
Kakashi's head throbbed. He needed more information. "What year is it?"
Sakumo frowned. "According to the Konoha calendar, it is year 603 since the founding of the Land of Fire."
Kakashi wordlessly nodded. He would be born in four years. Unless his presence had changed everything. A sick feeling squirmed through his stomach. But once Kakashi in this timeline was born, would he cease to exist?
If that was all the time he had with his father...
"I suppose we should head home," Sakumo's voice broke through his thoughts. "But I'm afraid I don't have much in the way of food. What do you say to ramen? I know a good place that opened recently. I'm afraid I don't have enough ryō on me for anything else."
"Ramen is fine," Kakashi managed.
Ichiraku's was exactly as Kakashi remembered, only twenty-six years newer. His gaze shifted to his father's silver ponytail as Sakumo seated himself at the stall. His stomach twisted with bitter memories of the last time they had spent time in Konoha together. He forcefully shoved the thoughts away, and joined Sakumo at the bar.
Sakumo shot him a crooked grin. "If you don't mind, I'll order for both of us. There's one I want you to try."
Kakashi's throat tightened at his father's cheerful visage, leaving him unable to speak even if he'd wanted to. The last time he'd seen his father happy... had been months even before that mission. The steaming bowl plopped in front of him, filled to the brim with ramen and an abundance of toppings. The savory scent wafted through his mask, and in spite of everything, his stomach grumbled.
Sakumo cracked his chopsticks with enthusiasm. "Ahhh, it's been too long since I've enjoyed a bowl of ramen."
Kakashi slowly lifted his own chopsticks, but hesitated. They were the only customers in the stall. What need was there to hide his face? His father had already seen it—albeit in the future. And though this Sakumo had no idea how closely Kakashi's face resembled his own, Kakashi suddenly wanted him to. Wanted to have at least this to connect his father from the future to the present. He tugged his mask down and his skin tingled at the exposure. He raised the porcelain bowl to his lips and sipped the hot broth.
Sakumo choked. Instinctively, Kakashi glanced at his father, only to find Sakumo staring at him. "Sorry—sorry." His father reddened. "It's just... you look so much like my mother. Hatake genes, huh?"
He looked like his grandmother? Kakashi slowly digested that information. He'd never thought he looked particularly feminine; not that he spent much time analyzing his appearance. If he'd had friends, they likely would have laughed at the comparison, but instead, a strange warmth filled his chest. After years of feeling alone, he had a connection. Of course, he'd always known he'd had a family. He had to come from somewhere. But father had always been a quiet man. Not secretive, but he hadn't volunteered information about his past either. And so, his family had been as phantoms without names.
Now... he had the chance to learn everything he had never known.
"I didn't mean you looked like a woman! It's just, you both have the same narrow jawline and similar features." Sakumo amended hastily. He groaned and pressed a hand to his forehead. "I'm no good at this."
"What was her name?"
"What?"
"Your mother." Kakashi met his father's eyes. "The one I resemble. What was her name?"
"Oh." Sakumo's expression softened in understanding. "It must be hard, not being able to remember your family. Her name was Shūka. Taken from the word for harvest, in typical Hatake fashion. She was the reason my family moved to Konoha from Uzushio. My father would have happily stayed on our farm in Uzushio's reserve forces, but my mother thought Konoha was a better place to make a difference in the world. Uzushio is a bit stuck in their ways, she always said." He blanched. "No offense to your home intended."
Kakashi's mouth tilted upward for the first time in—had it truly been years? But it felt... right. "None taken. I have no memory of Uzushio." He set his chopsticks in his empty bowl. "Your parents. Are they still here?"
"No." Sakumo pushed away his own empty bowl. "They both perished in the Great War. My clan wanted me to return to Uzushio after the war, but my home is here. I want to make a difference in the world, as my mother did. And I will do it in Konoha." He flashed a smile. "But enough of that! We should head home before it gets dark."
Kakashi nodded, and pushed back his stool to stand with Sakumo. A sense of longing swept through him, replacing any lingering nerves. Home. He followed his father out, gaze fixed on Sakumo's silver ponytail. Warmth settled in his stomach and he quickened his pace.
Home.
They strolled along the Naka River to the outskirts of Konoha, just like the countless times Kakashi had walked home with his father after his day at the academy was over. The sunset set the slow-moving water ablaze. Kakashi focused on the familiar silhouette ahead. The low, single-story home sat alone, and wasn't much to look at. But it had been theirs, and Kakashi hadn't wanted it any other way.
Until it wasn't theirs anymore. Just his.
Every day, he had hated returning. But he couldn't leave. His father had left, and he refused to be his father. Then Minato-sensei had offered a way out, and, telling himself he had no other option, he had taken it.
"It's not much, but..." Sakumo paused at the top of the steps and offered him a slanted grin. "Welcome home!"
Kakashi released a slow breath. Sakumo didn't seem to notice his inability to climb the stairs, and instead cheerfully pushed open the door he had never locked. Kakashi forced himself up the steps after his father, and the tension in his chest released as he stepped over the threshold. Sakumo removed his sandals, and Kakashi placed his next to his father's, the familiar motions soothing.
Sakumo trotted across the main room. "Your room is over here. I'll need to put on new sheets, but it should be..." his voice trailed away as he vanished into Kakashi's old room.
Perhaps this time... it could be different.
Sakumo bustled around the room like a mother hen until it was settled to his liking. He gave Kakashi some of his own clothes, as Kakashi had nothing to wear besides his bloodstained ANBU uniform. Then he closed the door behind him with one last smile, leaving Kakashi alone.
Kakashi stood where Sakumo had left him, his father's clothes piled in his arms. He gazed down at the beige and dark green bundle. They smelled of a golden field, warm in the sun and ready to be harvested. They smelled like his father.
A scent that he had last caught stained with the sharp, metallic taint of blood.
He buried his face in the soft fabric, surrounding himself with his father. Reminding himself that his father wasn't dead. That, somehow, he was no longer alone. He was home.
Maybe tonight... he would finally be able to sleep.
.
.
Tsunade stalked through the open stone archway into the massive Senju compound. Grandfather had designed the entrance without gates to show that anyone was welcome. Ironic, as it also proclaimed a show of power that Hashirama likely hadn't intended. There was no intruder the Senju feared.
The entrance courtyard led a long, winding path to the main house. The giant trees, numerous fountains, ponds, and statues were supposed to be impressive, but it was nothing more than a reminder of everything they had lost. The emptiness, the quiet, struck a throbbing chord in Tsunade's heart. War had brought this. War had taken away everyone she loved, save for her team and Nawaki.
The Senju were destined to die young.
She clenched her teeth. But things changed, and she had every intention of breaking the cycle of death. Nawaki, and everyone else she loved, would live long, fulfilling lives. She would make sure of it.
Tsunade bounded up the wide, stone steps to the front doors two at a time—her usual last childish act of rebellion. Once she entered that house, she was no longer Senju Tsunade, the kunoichi. She was Senju Tsunade, the Heiress of the Senju Clan, Hime of Konoha, and the granddaughter of the Shodai Hokage.
Tsunade smoothed the front of her white blouse, and entered the ten-foot-high double doors—the honey-colored, polished cypress etched with the deeds of the Senju clan during the warring era—and let it close quietly. She kicked off her sandals and padded down the long, dim hallway, ignoring the many rich tapestries hanging on the walls, also depicting her Senju ancestors. But last one… she paused, and gazed up at the only scene worthy of attention. Her grandfather, Hashirama, clasping hands with the head of the Uchiha clan, Madara. The banners of both clans hung behind them.
"I remember that day," her grandmother's voice echoed in the hall. "Hashirama gave up everything for peace. It's a shame Madara couldn't let go of his hatred. If only he could see the unity and prosperity we have now."
Tsunade turned to face her grandmother. Though well into her seventies, Mito stood ramrod straight. Her face was elegant and serene. Gray streaked her vibrant red hair, twisted into the two traditional buns Tsunade had never seen her without.
Other shinobi, including her own sensei, said that the very presence of Uzumaki Mito, the first jinchūriki of the nine-tails, could bring a weaker shinobi to their knees. But they didn't have the privilege of a granddaughter, no matter how disappointing and hard-headed said granddaughter had turned out to be.
Tsunade huffed. "It's unfortunate the clan leaders all have their heads too far up their asses to see this 'unity and prosperity.'"
"Tsunade..." Mito's mouth pinched as if she had bitten into a particularly sour lemon, but she only sighed. "I'm sure you're hungry. Come, eat, and tell me how the clan meeting went."
Tsunade winced and followed her grandmother to the kitchen, cursing herself for forgetting to grab food before returning home. If there was one thing she had inherited from her grandmother, it was her ability to cook. Or, rather, inability to make anything edible. With only three members of the Senju clan left, her grandmother had downsized considerably, and they now only employed a gardener and housekeeper.
She would gladly give them both up for a cook. "I'm not very hungry, Baasama. Truly."
"I see. Your stomach is growling for another reason?" Mito walked to the large table set outside of the kitchen, and continued without waiting for an answer, "I made sushi today. Nawaki ate it."
Nawaki had the hollow stomach of an eleven-year-old boy and consumed almost anything. Tsunade stared down at the sushi board. Seaweed. Rice. Maybe this would be edible after all. She selected the smallest piece and placed it in her mouth. Oh, kami. Oh kami. She gagged, but forced the bite down for her grandmother's sake, eyes watering. "What—what the hell did you put in that?"
"Language, Tsunade!" Mito frowned at her. "This and that. I don't remember exactly. How was the clan meeting?"
Tsunade grabbed an apple from the basket in the center of the table and bit into the crisp sweetness to take away the vile taste in her mouth. Back to business already, were they? She chewed and swallowed. "Pointless, as usual."
"Clan meetings are never pointless. You know this."
Tsunade leaned back against the table and glared at the apple in her hand instead of her grandmother. "It's constant posturing and complaining. Nothing ever changes. The Hyūga are aloof, the Uchiha are angry, Sarutobi is pandering to both of them, and the Nara are asleep half of the time. The rest are just waiting for it to end. I don't see why I have to waste my time with that when I could be training or spending time with Nawaki."
Or studying the iryō jutsu scrolls she'd hidden in her room. There was still so much she had to learn...
"You know why, Tsunade." Mito's voice had turned to steel. "You and Nawaki are the last of your clan, and it is your duty to carry on Hashirama's legacy. I don't want to have this discussion again."
The apple no longer seemed appetizing. Tsunade set it on the table, taking longer than necessary. Why couldn't Mito see that she was carrying on her grandfather's legacy in her own way? She wanted to save lives with her own hands, not struggle against the agendas of the other clans to keep the Senju name prominent. But the memory of the day she had told Mito of her desire to learn iryō jutsu was enough to keep her mouth shut. She would never mention that in front of her grandmother again.
"Where is your haori?" Mito asked, as if they had been discussing the weather instead of her future.
"I let someone borrow it," Tsunade said absently. Or, rather, forced it on that silver-haired Uzushio shinobi, whose amnesia had clearly taken more than a few brain cells. She shook her head slightly. Men. Though she had to admit this one was odder than most, and not just because of his Sharingan.
The way he stared at her... not in admiration or even desire like other men, but with calculated judgement. As if she wasn't good enough for some invisible standard. She was Senju Tsunade and she hardly cared about some amnesiac shinobi's opinion—hell, she even ignored her own grandmother's—but still...
It was annoying.
"That ratty old thing?" Mito chuckled, though it sounded forced. "I'm surprised they took it. Perhaps now you'll wear your clan haori?"
Not likely.
Tsunade ran a hand through her bangs, hair tugging at her scalp. Hatake Kakashi's story didn't make sense. It was no surprise Sakumo had taken him in; from what she'd seen he was a kind and generous man—if not the most logical. But the thought of a potentially dangerous shinobi with a Sharingan staying freely in Konoha, even if his chakra was sealed, didn't sit well. Sarutobi-sensei had washed his hands of the matter for now, but she wasn't satisfied. "Baasama, what do you know about the Hatake clan in Uzushio?"
"The Hatake clan?" Her grandmother's thin eyebrows arched. "They were small and quiet, usually keeping to themselves. Peace-lovers, you might say. But if they could be convinced to join the battlefield, they were lethal. Does this have to do with that Hatake you and the White Fang found in the cemetery?"
Tsunade gripped the edge of the table, her nails digging into the underside of the wood. "How did you know about that?"
"Do you think I don't know what my granddaughter is up to?" Mito folded her arms gracefully, tucking her hands into wide sleeves. "Or how you performed iryō jutsu on that Uzushio shinobi?"
Tsunade straightened, fists at her sides. "I did what I needed to do."
"No. What you needed to do was notify the certified iryō-nins." Her grandmother's voice had reached a cold softness she hadn't heard in a long time. Not since the day she had begged to learn iryō ninjutsu. And was bluntly denied. "Using iryō jutsu without a certification is illegal because of the precision needed. An untrained hand could cause serious injury or death. You know that."
"I have been training myself. Researching, reading, and practicing on myself and animals. I would never endanger a patient." Tsunade fought to keep her expression calm as anger bubbled in her stomach. "My abilities are far beyond any certified iryō-nin. If you would let me show you—"
"Enough." Mito's eyes flashed. "Iryō jutsu has its place, but you are capable of so much more, Tsunade. I cannot stop you, but know that I disapprove. Remember who you are. If word of your actions had gotten out, think of what it would have done to the Senju clan reputation."
"I don't need to, because that is all you think about. Clearly, it matters more to you than Nawaki and I." Tsunade stormed past her grandmother, but not before she glimpsed pain flicker across Mito's face. "I'm late to pick up Nawaki."
Tsunade bit her lip, hard. The iryō-nins had refused her every time she had attempted to get her certification. It wasn't hard to figure out that they respected—and feared—Uzumaki Mito more than her granddaughter.
Mito didn't call after her and Tsunade didn't glance back. Every disagreement ended with the same result. Avoidance for a couple of days, then back to the same tightrope she walked every day with her grandmother. She would never be the granddaughter Mito had wanted, and she had accepted that. Until another argument brought the same aching tightness to her chest, and with it the realization that whether or not she had accepted it, it would always hurt.
The chilly breeze of evening did little to cool her off. Tsunade sighed, and headed in the direction of the academy. It was just as well she'd loaned her favorite haori to Hatake Kakashi. She certainly had no need of it right now.
But if he didn't return it, she might have to seek him out. To check on his condition. A little of the pressure in her chest lightened. For someone to actually praise her medical abilities... obviously, the White Fang hadn't understood what his support meant. But that also meant she had a patient—an actual patient, to practice on. If she did well... if she got the White Fang on her side, Sarutobi-sensei may actually listen to her.
"Neechan!"
Tsunade's gaze leapt ahead to the curve in the street. Her idiot brother stood at the corner with another kid, waving. She growled under her breath and her strides quickened. Nawaki knew he was supposed to wait at the academy for her, no matter how close their home was to the Hokage Tower and subsequent school. There was a time she had hated the lack of privacy, but ever since Nawaki had entered the academy, she was grateful for the close proximity granting her the ability to reach Nawaki in minutes.
How could she look out for him if he wandered off alone?
Tsunade planted herself in front of her brother, fists on her hips. She exhaled slowly to rid herself of any residual anger from her argument with Mito and pinned Nawaki with a stern stare. "Why didn't you wait at the academy?"
"Aww, Neechan," Nawaki whined. He stubbornly lifted his chin; the gesture dampened by the lingering baby fat that rounded his face. "You were super late and Minato didn't have anyone to walk home with."
Tsunade focused on the kid standing next to her brother. He was shorter than Nawaki, and the brightness of his fluffy blond hair and blue eyes was blinding. She didn't recognize him or his name. New to the academy perhaps? "Hello. I'm Senju Tsunade, Nawaki's sister."
Minato straightened under her attention, pink blooming on his cheeks. "H-hi. My name is, um, Namikaze Minato."
"He was moved up to my class today and we're sitting together," Nawaki proclaimed. "He's really smart, Neechan. We're probably going to become rivals to become the next hokage. Right, Minato?"
Moved up? Did they think they had another prodigy? Tsunade studied Minato more carefully, and the innocence in his young face tugged deep in her chest. Kami, she hoped not. At least he was older than the age she had graduated with Orochimaru and Jiraiya. She blinked. Minato was still staring at her instead of answering Nawaki, and his blush hadn't faded. If anything, it had only deepened.
"Oi! Quit staring at my sister!" Nawaki punched Minato's shoulder and the younger boy jumped. "Are you gonna crush on her too?"
"N-no!" Minato's flush darkened to the shade of a tomato and he ducked his head.
Tsunade fought a smile. The last thing she needed was more adolescent boys crushing on her, but Nawaki's protectiveness never failed to amuse her. "Minato-kun, where does your family live?"
Minato stared at his feet. Apparently, embarrassment had sealed his tongue.
"He doesn't have a family anymore." Nawaki glanced at his new friend, eyebrows furrowed. "He lives at the orphanage."
Oh. Tsunade shot Nawaki a why-didn't-you-tell-me-this-earlier glare. Orochimaru had always been guarded about his place in the orphanage, and once he was old enough to leave, he never spoke of it again. And she'd known better than to ask. "I see. We'll walk you back, then."
Nawaki grinned at her, then nudged Minato. "See? I told you she was nice. Just don't get any ideas."
Minato perked up, though the flush hadn't left his cheeks. He shoved Nawaki. "I'm not!"
"Lead the way, Minato-kun." Tsunade shooed the boys forward with a wave of her hand and walked after them.
The orphanage was a good distance from the academy. Once she had realized why Orochimaru was nearly always late to class, the location of the orphanage rankled at her until she'd confronted Sarutobi-sensei about it.
He claimed it was safer to keep orphans away from shinobi business, but even then, the explanation made no sense. Wouldn't the orphans be safer if they were close by? Sarutobi-sensei had dismissed her then; he had work to do. She hadn't figured out the answer until years later, and it still made her seethe. Out of sight, out of mind. Wasn't that how Sarutobi-sensei had always dealt with things he didn't want to bother with?
A small, colorful stall on the corner caught her eye, and Tsunade slowed. "What do you two say to some dango?"
Minato's blue eyes widened. "R-Really?"
"Sure, why not?" She was feeling generous, and she still remembered the first time she'd introduced Orochimaru and Jiraiya to the sweet treat after one of their first missions. It had then become a tradition after every successful mission. She frowned. How long had it been since they'd had time to get dango together?
Too long. But then, she and Jiraiya didn't exactly see eye-to-eye these days. Her gut twisted at the memory of his reaction when she'd told him she had started training in iryō jutsu. He was too similar to Sarutobi-sensei.
But she would prove him wrong. He'd come around. He had to.
"Um, Neechan?" Nawaki's hazel gaze was too innocent. "Didn't you lose all of your ryō last week?"
Oh... right. Tsunade clenched her teeth before she cursed in front of the boys. Her loss at the gambling hall had been so bad she was completely broke until her next mission. She forced a smile and flicked Nawaki's forehead lightly. "Mind your own business. We'll put it on my tab."
"Ow! Don't flick me!"
Once both boys were happily munching on dango, Tsunade took the lead toward the orphanage. She hadn't been to the decrepit, two-story building since Orochimaru had moved. They stopped at the front gate, and she took in the peeling paint and weeds in the yard. It hadn't changed.
"See you tomorrow," Nawaki said cheerfully between licking his sticky fingers.
Minato nodded, but he shifted in place, his blue gaze darting between Tsunade and the cracked pavement. "Thanks for the dango," he mumbled, ears pink. "And walking me home."
Tsunade smiled. He was a cute kid, though she knew better than to say that out loud. "You should come over to hang out with Nawaki sometime."
Minato gaped at her. "You mean that?"
"Yeah, of course!" Nawaki puffed out his chest. "We never have visitors over, and it gets really boring."
Tsunade winced. Besides Grandmother's occasional political visitors, the Senju household hadn't entertained anyone in months. She used to have Orochimaru, Jiraiya, and later, Dan, over all the time, before… She shook off the memories. At any rate, she should have thought of Nawaki sooner. She placed her hand on her brother's shoulder. "Come on, Nawaki. We need to get home."
Nawaki squirmed under her touch, but he didn't shake her off. "Okay, okay. Bye, Minato!"
"... bye," Minato echoed, his gaze following them out.
Tsunade watched in amusement as Nawaki stretched his legs as far as they could go in an attempt to match her strides. She was barely five-foot-three, but she still had a head over her little brother. She didn't doubt he would pass her up soon enough, so she would enjoy it while it lasted.
Nawaki gave up and settled for skipping every few steps, arms swinging at his sides. "Sensei said we have to turn in our homework on the Great War in two days. You said you would help me because I want to write mine on grandfather, remember?" He glared at her. "But Minato said he's already finished. I can't fall behind my rival!"
Tsunade cringed. She had completely forgotten about that. "I'm sorry. I've been busy with clan meetings and..." Dealing with an amnesiac silver-haired shinobi. "Other things."
Nawaki kicked at a pebble. "You always say that."
She did? Tsunade bit the inside of her cheek. "I'll help you tomorrow, I promise. But I told Orochimaru and Jiraiya that I would train with them tomorrow, so it will have to be after that, all right?"
Nawaki shrugged half-heartedly. "You better not forget."
"I won't." Tsunade gazed down at the top of her brother's spiky brown head, and sighed.
Jiraiya had been complaining about her lack of time for them for months, which was why she'd finally agreed to spend a day with her old teammates. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with them, it just... brought back memories she would rather forget. They weren't the team they used to be.
Still... she smiled fondly as Nawaki worked his way through the hand seals they were likely learning at the academy, his face scrunched in concentration. She needed to find a way to make more time for her brother.
Nawaki paused on the ram seal and tilted his head. "Neechan, do you think Minato would want to train with me?"
"Maybe. I'm glad you have a new friend." Tsunade poked him in the ribs, and Nawaki batted her hand away with a scowl. "But don't think this gets you out of leaving the academy without me."
"Aww, Neechan!"
She couldn't stay mad at him, and Nawaki knew it. "I suppose... it would be fine if you walked home with Minato. Only when I'm gone on missions!"
Nawaki's grin rivaled the sun and his tanned cheeks dimpled adorably. "Deal! And just you wait, when you're all old and grumpy, I'll walk you home after your bingo sessions."
Tsunade snorted a laugh. "Bingo? I'd rather die an early death."
"Stop it, Neechan!" Nawaki shoved her, fierceness flashing in his hazel eyes. "You're not gonna die for a long, long time. Promise?"
Tsunade's heart gave a sharp throb. Nawaki tried to hide it, but she saw the same worry in his gaze every time she left on a mission. They had lost all of their family, except for Mito, and she would do everything in power to keep him from more loss. She smiled softly and ruffled his brown hair. "I promise. I'm not going anywhere. I have to see you become hokage, remember?"
"Yeah!" Nawaki punched the air with a fist. "I'm going to make grandfather proud and keep his treasure safe."
And she would keep him safe. "I know you will."
There's going to be a bit of set up for these first few chapters. Since I'm doing POVs for Kakashi, Sakumo, Tsunade, and later, Nawaki, I want to take the time to properly set up their arcs and relationships as well as the overall story arc.
Huge thanks to all you reviewers! As always, I welcome feedback and/or suggestions. :)