Chapter 6: Something's Shitty Here

Warning: (M) Contains Gore, Explicit Language, and Death.

Rating: (T-M) Not for kids. At all.

Pairings: For now? None. Kind of a Gen-fic.

A/N: My sense of humor is so shit LMFOAOAOA. Also, sorry if the sad parts are so sudden. I'm trying to put Kakashi's psyche into work, and uh. Yeah. To say the lad is going nuts is an understatement.

Sorry for the short chapter guys and for the prolonged wait. I've had writer's block for this story for a while, so I got rid of it by writing a Reader/Kakashi story that I've been meaning to write since last year (posted on ao3). Not sure if you guys wanna check it out.

In any case, I hope you like this chapter.

ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO READS! YOU GUYS INSPIRE ME I LOVE YOU

[. . .]

"And I know it's your Bussy." - Probably Kakashi.

[. . .]

Chapter 6

Something's Shitty Here

[. . .]

"Why would you fart."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You farted."

"You're hallucinating."

"I saw the dust particles."

"Dust? How old do you think I am?"

"Saggy titties old. Wrinkly old. Ugly."

"You're just jealous of my natural boyish charms~"

Kakashi stared at his father vehemently. "I can smell it," Kakashi said bluntly, then pinched his nostrils with his bandaged fingers. "Smells like me wanting to kill myself." The eye-curl of false joy was absolutely mocking.

"Alright, none of that," Gojo wiggled his finger close to Kakashi's face in childish scolding and gave a soft pat on his head. "From now on, we're gonna pretend to want to live!" The dazzling grin was back.

Kakashi rose an eyebrow at him. However, because the child's hair was long, he looked as dispassionate as ever. "Maa... Who's we?"

"You and your seven personalities. You're very lucky I don't send you to a mental institution!" Gojo hummed, taking a seat that somehow appeared out of nowhere.

"That's because they're after you too," Kakashi droned, refusing to breathe through his nose.

Gojo made a clicking noise with his tongue. "I'm too hot to be sane," He said with a proud grin, to which Kakashi dried at. He had plenty of retorts latched on his tongue, but he didn't say anything. The more he replied, the longer he'd have to stay within the same vicinity as this deranged poor excuse of a father. It was for the best that Kakashi kept silent.

That and keeping quiet had always worked well for him during unnecessary interrogations. Friends or not, he had never liked being constantly questioned for shit. It's not as if anyone could ever tick him off enough to catch him slipping out information. He'd learned to ignore emotions and keep quiet at a very young age—so being tortured, whether it be by going out for food or literal mindscape agony, hadn't honestly scared him in his past life.

This new father of his wouldn't get anything out of him.

He spent decades avoiding questions from everyone, maybe besides the Hokages he'd served, and his students after forced years into healing tender memories in his past life. Decades hiding and keeping a lot of things he's been told to the grave. Like the realization that Gai had, in fact, won their share of challenges. He had never said that. Deny, deny, deny, avoid, and avoid—

Almost pathetically, remorse came into battles with his inner self. Where determination had driven was daunting sadness yet again, and some frustration almost broke the blank facade he presented before the white-haired male. Because it was back and forth. Existing and then depression. Truthfully, he didn't feel anything. He was fine. But it came in bursts—a grey, wilting pain that he swore he'd removed by the time he retired as Hokage.

And yet.

Something stung his chest and hands in a liquefying melancholy, and things that once were flashed through his mind like a dark tsunami.

And, abruptly, he thought, 'I pushed everyone aside.'

It wouldn't hurt to have his friends doing that again. It wouldn't hurt to have them here. Annoying him. Bothering him, like old times. He wouldn't kid himself, either. He'd be the same old Kakashi, avoiding and making fun of their attempts at his personal things, and... love.

Just like old times. With Kurenai. Gai. Anko. Genma. His ANBU squad.

Asuma. Shikaku, and his pesky games of shogi—Inoichi and his dumb, life-saving, therapy sessions.

His own team. Naruto, and his whining about where he'd been in his youth after coming late to the training he'd assigned hours prior or how he was doing after the fuckton mess that was the Fourth War; Sakura and her constant reprimanding about his health, how his fucked up chakra system was slowly healing after having Obito's Sharingan ripped the fuck out—Sasuke, too, quiet but genuine in his simple questions about life he had never cared about.

Sakumo before he died.

Minato-sensei after his father died. Kushina-nee too.

Rin, when he hurt himself on missions.

Obito, He thought distantly, but the thought was harshly forced aside. He couldn't fathom that memory. Where bitter contempt had lied for a short time, decades' worth of feelings about what could have been was so much worse. So, so much worse. He swore—both his soul and to the gods that punished him by making him believe in another world—that it was him.

That he'd seen him.

But.

God, did it torture him. He was pushing it aside—continuously since he woke—and he would continue. Everything always came down to him.

To Obito.

Because it was his fault—Kakashi's fault; truly, so despairingly so—that everything happened.

Perhaps... Perhaps if he had been a little kinder, a little more compassionate, a little less of an asshole—

Well. Those plaguing thoughts should've been long gone. And they were.

It was just...

Seeing Obito, or hell, even someone that reminded him of that foolish boy, caused his head to drive itself into the dark corners of his selfish mind. It was warping. One second he was fine, and the next he was empty again, questioning his flesh, his blood—everything. One moment he wasn't thinking about anything. One moment. It was always just one moment before it became another moment entirely.

It was embarrassing. He was going back and forth—he knew, god, he knew—but nothing was working. Nothing was making sense anymore, and at this point, he was winging it. He was forcing himself to be alive—but was he? Was he alive? He wanted to test it. The pain in his wrapped fingers reminded him that it was... real, but... Pain could be in a genjutsu. It could.

It can.

It was.

He wanted to test it. If he stabbed his eye and punctured his brain, would he die? Would he feel nothing?

But what of these... these people? What if they kept bringing him back and he kept dying in a never-ending loop? The idea was ugly. So very ugly.

He didn't want to be watched more than he was if they found out about his... not-so-living intentions, either. He merely... needed time. Yes. Time was an excellent idea. But, Obito. I want to see my students again. My family.

As much as it broke him... Kakashi couldn't think about that. Shouldn't, anymore.

He'd see them soon. That was all that kept him here. (But he couldn't... make sense of it. They were dead. He was scared of dying. But he wasn't scared of coming back to them. But what if? What if this was a new world, a new reality, and he wouldn't go to the pure lands? What if he never saw them again?)

Shamefully, he was slowly realizing that this world was as real as the pain burning his eye.

"Anyhow," His father began again, breaking him from his five seconds of rushed pondering. "I have many questions," He ignored Kakashi's lost look, "But I'll ask them when we go home. Right now, I have only one thing to say to ya."

Kakashi blinked lethargically. Like he had just come back and didn't care at all about what he just said.

Gojo thought that was a little sad. Earlier voices of his negligence were ignored, however. He had no qualms about those for the moment, and they could be saved for when he felt particularly inclined to finally wallow in self-pity once a year. "Congratulations! You're not a curse!" Gojo cheered, reaching into his sleeves to throw out crumpled confetti that had been itching him since he came from the park.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Kakashi had ignored those sprinkles and sniffed. "Took you a very long time to come to that conclusion. It's giving stupid."

"This isn't 2022."

"What?"

"Nothing. But yes, anyway! You aren't a curse," Confetti was thrown again, making a mess Gojo deliberately left to annoy Shoko with once she came back, "You're just an ugly fetus."

"I didn't realize I was a mirror."

"I know. I'm so hot."

"That is not at all what I said," Kakashi said, uncaring, "Me when I lie."

"There you go again, speaking future tense!"

Kakashi decided not to speak anymore. Everything in his body hurt. He wanted everything to end. Talking to this moron just made things worse, and Kakashi—was he thankful? He didn't know.

Seeing that his son closed himself off once again, Gojo finally relented. The teasing, that is. His mouth never stopped working. "You're going to eat, alright Little Shit?" His voice was the same but the undertone sounded almost serious. It left a soft lilt that made the young boy question if this man was as bipolar as he was. "Little Fetus babies like you need that uh... What are they called?"

Rat Poison, Kakashi hoped.

"Rat poison!"

Yes.

"Just kidding."

Whatever.

Gojo continued, unaware of Kakashi's annoyance again. "Vegetables. Meat. Dairy. That type of stuff." His hand moved with every syllable. "It's important for mental and physical growth! And you seriously need that, short-stack."

Kakashi just stared at him.

Gojo grinned cheekily. "What? No witty reply?"

Kakashi continued to stare.

The Yeti sighed. "So boring. This is called orphan behavior, you know."

Kakashi was no longer listening.

"Sad. Sappy. Homeless," Gojo talked on, putting out a finger for every term. "Lonely. Depressed. Tired..." The older man faltered and set a blank face when he noticed his son's vacant eyes again. Part of him hoped Kakashi would bargain in their petty disputes he often slightly entertained himself with, but he just shut himself out. Again. In the span of five minutes.

There was definitely something wrong in that kid's head. More wrong, actually. Before the kid would at least look at him. Now... Now he was looking through him.

Barely enough to notice, the corners of Gojo's mouth curved downward. What was there to do to get this child living again? Gojo usually slapped them with some training and offered Jujutsu Sorcerer opportunities. Boom. Solution.

But this child wanted nothing. He didn't even need to ask to know. It was just... It was just there.

He should wait until he came back to himself again. If he was having one of those internal episodes, Gojo doubted being probed would be a good idea. The kid would probably blow up this entire building, seeing as his energy was spiking rapidly every second.

He opted to remain silent to observe. Maybe the eye would come out. Maybe it had something to do with trauma. His... curse energy, even, that just somehow affected his sight and mind because it was part of the whole aesthetic.

Maybe Gojo was just waiting for his son to come back.

Who knew! The older man certainly had no idea. He was just waiting. For anything.

His phone buzzed. Curious, he reached into his pocket and unlocked it, taking a glance at the message.

He grinned.

Well. He supposed he was waiting for the food.

[. . .]

Ijichi came by with the food and nothing else, so Gojo assumed Nanami had stayed behind long enough to collect the documents he almost set on fire. It couldn't have been a nice option assuming that the chilled winters were approaching, so the thought of a shivering Nanami made Gojo laugh. Served him right for sticking the wounded pup on him.

Alas, the laugh was short-lived because leaving Kakashi alone—the kid was already disabling the safety hatches clucked tight with Shoko's curse energy, using strength a toddler shouldn't possess.

Surprisingly, Gojo wasn't so annoyed to see that the kid was once again attempting a break-out. It impressed him more than he'd liked. It only further proved that as sad as this kid was to exist, he had potential. Terrifying, powerful, potential. Oh, and that he wasn't dead. (He didn't look so dead when he was trying to get away. How sad.) Potential that would've been safer if the child wasn't related to him. Oh, well. Beggars can't be choosers.

Plus, it was fun catching the child red-handed and squirming in his hands. Knowing that the child in his hands, so little and small, had the prospect to decimate cities... So cute! "You're a nasty little headache, aren't ya?" Gojo lightly chastised, staring impressionably at the boy with his arms puffed out right in front of him—he looked like a stretched cat, glare and all.

When the boy said nothing, Gojo's grin grew. "Guess what? Your food's here! And take another guess!"

"You're dying?" Kakashi's hopeful tune offered.

Gojo tsked. "Never! We're gonna have a family dinner at my place!" He said, jingling the boy.

The extra movement flailed Kakashi's arms, and Gojo giggled at that. Kakashi simply deadpanned, allowing his body to sway like a newborn puppy being manhandled by a gleeful white kid on Christmas. Seeing that the boy didn't react, Gojo did it again.

He continued shaking the child like a jiggle toy for about five minutes before remembering he had something to do. "Oh, right," He tucked Kakashi under his armpit and grabbed the bag of food. "Off we go, little shit. I gotta feed ya before you pass out and I have to tell Shoko-chan you died on me."

"I hope you know you're a horrid father."

"What'd you say? Honor? Splendid? I know."

Body-flicker it was.

[. . .]

"Alright little shit," Gojo started resolutely, plopping the plastic bag of Takoyaki and Gyouza onto the countertop of his grand escapade that was his estate. "We're gonna enjoy a nice lunch while you tell me what exactly that little stunt was back in that booger-infested playground." His grin was simple.

Kakashi stared at him, ignoring the nice smell of food taunting his nose. "It's evening," He deadpanned because there was no way he was about to answer all the questions this idiot was trying to probe him of. He may have been a soldier in his past life, but he wanted nothing to do with anything of that sort now. He had enough, and if he ever grew to care for anyone in this material plane of existence, he didn't want it to be with people he'd lose in a dangerous line of work.

Besides, it was plenty obvious that this eye-sore dandruff kidnapper was looking for power usage. And whoever did that was not deserving of his help, no how. That's why Danzo fucking died.

"And you have a pretty, curse-magnetic eye!" Gojo's smile widened, and his hands jazzed at him in a pretty spectacle.

Very Ugly, Kakashi grumped. "You think my eye is pretty?" The little boy fluttered his eyelashes, mocking.

Gojo's grin became feral. "So you admit the suspicions are true?" He breezed back, but Kakashi didn't react at all.

He scratched his cheek. "What's that? What's a suspicion? Does that mean you like putting your peewee into little boy's butts? I knew you were a pedophile. I'm telling on you," Kakashi said ominously, kicking his feet. It hardly mattered if he made sense. If he kept up this charade, Kakashi hoped this ugly male would give up. Everyone had a breaking point.

Gojo shook his head with a sigh. "Not a freak like you!" He insisted, clapping his hands together with a slight twitch of his eye underneath his bandages, "Anyhow~ Little Shit! Since you want to play by secrets... I'll tell you about my theories instead."

Kakashi saw him open up the plastic bag and remove the containers full of food. "But first, you gotta eat!" His nose was poked. He scrunched it up at the sensation.

"Maa... I'm not hungry," He lied.

Gojo opened the styrofoam and his ears grated at the chaffing sound. "Too bad. You haven't eaten, and Ijichi-baka brought you some very nice food."

"I'm not eating."

"Oh... That's too bad then," Gojo clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "I'm going to have to tell Shoko-chan the unfortunate news..."

"I will piss on your shirts in your closet next. This is your only warning."

Gojo smiled internally at the mirth dancing in his son's eyes. An emotion, though with bad circumstances, was good. "Aww... You're kind of cute when you're trying to threaten me!"

"I already pissed on your bed. It's mine now."

"No stealing, little shit. That's bad."

"You stole me."

"Nope! I found you. Big difference."

"Pedophile."

"What are they teaching kids these days, eh?" Gojo shook his head, ignoring the boy's last jab. "One day I'm going to wake up to a gun pointed at my face!"

Kakashi did not know what a gun was. "What's a gun?" He asked. He eyed the open containers. Maybe if he could throw one at the Yeti's face... Internally, he grumped upon remembering that this bastard had some form of forcefield protecting him. He had to eat this. (He dismissed the negative thoughts swearing him to starve and see his loved ones. Right now was no time to be sad.)

"A big bad toy you should never play with. Only weirdos use those," Gojo explained, which didn't help.

Keeping a close eye on the lanky hands of his father picking up a plastic fork, Kakashi answered with a promising, "I will find one," Before reaching forward and throwing one of the containers on the floor in a burst of speed.

The other male caught it, looking away, and in those five seconds, Kakashi immediately lowered his mask and shoved food into his mouth.

By the time Gojo came back with a mocking scolding, Kakashi was idle again. He paused when he saw nothing in the other container.

At first, the sorcerer thought his eyes were tricking him. But then, he thought, his eyes saw all, so that couldn't be it. Then he assumed that Kakashi hid them somewhere, but he had caught the subtle swallow of the boy, and suddenly everything made sense. Kakashi wasn't even chewing anymore.

"Huh," Gojo peered at him, "Is this gonna kill ya?" It was a genuine question. As entertained as he was by the activity, he didn't want this to have any further complications to this child's health. Shoko would nag him and then the boy would die, and—yeah. He had no time to deal with the repercussions of that.

"Is what gonna kill me?" Asked the boy. A little stain on his mask was the only indication he even ate.

Gojo wasn't sure whether to be impressed or curious. "I'm going to assume no. Impressive," He grinned at his son. "You missed a spot~"

Kakashi blinked at him. "Missed what?"

"That!" Gojo flicked his nose. But the jeering titter of annoyance never happened.

Kakashi grabbed his hand before he could touch him, centimeters away from his face. "No," He said childishly, tightening the hold to a fault he hoped was painful. And Gojo reveled in his triumph.

He let him touch him. "So," He wriggled the finger the boy entrapped with his entire, tiny, menacing, fist, "You can go through my infinity. Through skin contact."

Kakashi kept holding it. "So?" He droned, bored. "We've already established that." It was true. The first time was when Kakashi stabbed the shit out of him.

Gojo gave a conceding nod. "That's true. I just needed to confirm it," He lingered, pulling away his finger after a quick ponder and Kakashi let him, "That, and how quick your reflexes are."

The look Kakashi gave him was condescending.

Gojo was very intrigued. "It's weird, isn't it?" The negligent father asked mockingly, picking up a fork.

Kakashi continued to watch his father in uncaring silence.

Gojo continued. "Nobody else is able to pierce through it." He said, eyeing the boy's reaction.

"How does it feel to be bested by a four-year-old?" Kakashi asked instead of caring. Like, you know. A normal son.

"You want me to be honest?" Came the lilting voice of a grinning Satoru, tapping the plastic utensil against the edge of the empty container Kakashi vacuumed earlier.

Kakashi said nothing to that. He also didn't voice the negative response he'd come up with in his head. As said prior, answering would drive the opposite effect Kakashi wanted—which was to be left alone.

Much like Kakashi, however, Gojo was persistent in the opposite. He was here to interrogate his son, not just for his benefit, but for the world of Jujutsu. His kid was hazardous. The adult didn't know if the boy was conscious of this misgiving, so it lay on him, the strongest, to take care of this arduous concern. Anyone else, with the way the boy was now, would get crushed under all his energy.

He'd supervise and prepare the boy first, but to do so he'd need to know how he worked. Many options countered to better methods of figuring out just what made this hell-spawn tick. He could smack him around and push him to the edge, but something told him that if he pursued that option, he'd be left with a dead toddler. The kid was, pityingly, dead inside.

So it was tied to this. Talking. It'd appease his pesky friends on this lenient—foolish—method, and he could understand him better. Talking was for losers, Gojo thought. But here he was.

"I'll be honest," The adult proclaimed levelly, pinning him with a stern expression sprinkled in his easy-going attitude. "You impressed me. How did I feel, you ask? I was impressed, Little Shit. That's right. Impressed."

Kakashi brushed the scrap of food off his mask. "That's nice."

"It is nice," Gojo insisted. "It's not usually that I'm impressed by people other than myself, kid. You should feel honored."

"I'd rather be dead."

Gojo picked out a small bag of donut holes from inside his flak jacket. "No. You wouldn't. Being alive is... well, there's food!" His grin dimmed, and the adult shook his head. "Look, I won't beat around the bush."

"You have been. For the past hour."

"Hush! Your dada's talking," The male opened the bag, dropping the fork inside, "Anyway. I'm going to train you."

"Says who?"

"Me, kid. Your dad."

Kakashi blinked lethargically. "You're serious," He drawled.

"I am," Gojo agreed, stabbing the fork into a donut hole.

"I'm not," Kakashi shrugged. "You can't force me."

"No, I can't," Gojo agreed again. He shoved the donut into his mouth.

Kakashi shouldn't have spoken, but his lips moved without his consent. "So?" The sassy remark retorted.

Gojo chewed for a bit and swallowed before answering. "So," He poked the fork into another sweet treat, patronizing, "I'm going to help you."

"Help me," Kakashi deadpanned. "Really."

"Yes, really."

Kakashi's eyes closed one by one, like a lizard, and opened again. If he squinted, Gojo could see that the kid was in disbelief. "And how exactly would you help me?" The boy humored, crossing his arms. "Isn't that the same concept? Train, help?"

"If that's how you think, then this is worse than I thought," Gojo hummed, putting two balls into his mouth this time. [A/N: Haha. Balls.] "Hepin' is diffwen' dan chwaining, Widdle Shed," Said the adult with his mouth stuffed, sincerely. He chewed and put three more inside while he said that, and the boy in front of him followed the bits of wet food that fell from the male's disgusting mouth. He was glad that the image of Naruto didn't show up.

Kakashi picked at his ear. "Your help is unneeded. You're very gross, and a pedo," He drawled, over of this useless exchange. This adult wanted to help him? How? Kakashi couldn't even help himself. He would've laughed at that statement if he wasn't so annoyed being in the presence of this inhumane, screeching, Yeti. Couldn't he see there was no use helping him?

Kakashi was his own person. The concept of help was not in his vocabulary. Or life, anymore. It was left behind with everything else he held dear in his old world.

The Yeti set the garbage to the side, leaving it to one of his servants to take care of come morning. "Want to hear my theories now?" Gojo said, completely overlooking Kakashi's previous statement.

Luckily, Kakashi was just as good at that too. There was nothing this fool did or would do that'd prove anything to Kakashi that he, was indeed, going to help him. Nothing. And nothing he will ever do will give away any Like the brat he was, he grabbed hold of the compartment of food he'd thrown earlier and did it again.

Except, on instinct, he drew power from his chakra coils the same moment he moved, which caused the steaming dish to smash through a window. Hardly missing the target; Gojo Satoru.

To his credit, the man didn't even flinch. He was still smiling like the bastard he was. "My theory, Little Shit—"

Kakashi narrowed his eyes when his father stood with an intentional, calculating, edge.

"—Is that your power draws from a trauma source."

Kakashi stayed resolutely seated.

"And what is that source, you may ask?" Gojo tilted his head, putting a questioning hand on his chin. "Why, I'll tell you, Little Shit." The grin was knowing, and the boy didn't like it.

Kakashi feigned disinterest. The straining energy building around them was increasingly negative, similar to killing intent. Except, this one was softer, if albeit probing. Almost curious...

"What can you tell me..." Gojo's voice sobered a fraction, mouth set into a prim, straight, line.

"Of a boy named Obito?"

The room entered an abrupt, chilling silence.

Obito?

Echoes and shouts drilled in his ears agonizingly fast.

But the man-turned-boy did not move. No, he didn't even breathe.

Kakashi met the adult's unwavering, hidden gaze with a shortened breath—a piercing contemplation that lasted a few seconds; dancing around in a deadly, tensing, suppression of tragedy.

And, wasting no time, the knotted chakra he'd been hiding released in a popping nightmare when, in Gojo's place, he saw himself.

Tired, bloody, and with a red, circling eye never meant to be his.

It was the last thing he registered properly in that very second.

That, and the visible misery he saw so openly in the mirror, facing back at him.

[. . .]

Somewhere inside his psyche, a woman of white rose her head to the opened blood-red moon mocking her plum havens of defeat.

She waited in shaking shackles for her opening of the world meant to be her sole only, standing in the middle of the soft, tendrils of water colored crimson.

Silent, evermore.

Hidden, again.

Waiting.

[. . .]

A/N: Originally, this was supposed to introduce Megumi's doggies, but I decided on a cliffhanger instead. Things are finally picking up! Next chapter should be a little bit more of plot. Tbh, I intend this to be a slice of life until the manga begins because by then, it'll be like only ten chapters of full (long) Manga angst. But yeah. This story was made because I thought Kakashi fighting a white-pubed asshole could heal him.

Anyway. See you guys.

Toodles~

Ana.