Chapter 4: Curses and Comrades

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: You know, I'm surprised stuff isn't set on fire yet. (Also, I swear these chapters seem rushed to me, I don't know why. Like, something's missing). Anyway, have some angst? And maybe plot? Don't know. This story is all over the place, and I'll be honest, I'm coming up with stuff as we go. I mean, I have a vague idea of what'll happen... But none of it is written down, you know?

Oh wow, I just realized most of my stories are written from scratch. Not planned. At all. Oh... Damn.

Also... will a guest make his appearance? Who knows!


[. . .]


"I know he cares. That's why I pour maple syrup all over his clothes. He likes sweets, no?" - Probably Kakashi.


[. . .]


Chapter 4

Curses and Comrades


[. . .]


Shoko goggled the residue of the corpse with trembling hands and a detached expression. "Huh," She raised the disappearing, electrified mist attached to a piece of clothing, "This doesn't feel like curse energy." Her murmur pierced the static.

She rubbed the fabric with her gloved fingers, watching with curious fascination as it singed the rubber of her gloves with a shock, before falling slack. Following the dissolving energy was the rest of it still bound to the body, and she observed with hidden disappointment as it ceased its crinkling noise and blue, purple-like exuberance. She frowned.

Where had it gone?

Her tired eyes lingered vehemently on the fabric she still held before tossing it to the side in favor of more hints for any residue possibly inside what remained of her friend. When there was no twitch of the muscle or the scent of ozone, she pulled back her hands and sighed.

Had she accidentally gotten rid of it? Perhaps it was her hand piercing the bubble of essence wrapped around her dead friend that caused it to leave? It was something unlike she'd ever seen before...

Her phone rang.

Scowling from the interruption of her autopsy, she removed one of her gloves and used that hand to grab her phone. She saw Nanami's name, and she quickly answered it. "Hello?" She asked, confused.

"Shoko-san," His voice vibrated through the phone, and, instantly, she could tell it wasn't good.

Her brows lowered with vexation and her eyes lidded with further exhaustion. "What," She demanded.

"Is Gojo with you?" He asked, strained.

She glanced at her cameras to check for any activity and found none. "Which one?" She grumbled.

"Satoru."

"No," She replied.

There was a hefty, stagnant silence before he spoke again. "...Alright. If you see him, please call him over immediately."

She checked her nails, "Kay. I'd bother asking why, but I'm busy. And anything involving the Gojo's is a pain in the ass," She expressed in a grumble, rubbing her temple.

There was a huff of agreement on the other end. "If you must know, just in case the situation grows... worse," Shoko imagined him wincing, "I need Gojo to find his child. Kakashi-kun has gone missing."

She paused. "Missing?" She prompted with disbelief, "You're not serious. Shouldn't this be a bigger—"

"It's not the first time," Nanami cut her off with vexed assurance. "The child usually disappears into his room for extended periods of the day without eating, and because this child is Satoru's," His name fell with a sneer, "He is... quite a handful to find. I'd call him a prodigy if he wasn't so much a nuisance."

Shoko felt a headache coming on. "Prodigy?" She asked, "What?"

"The child hides his energy to an almost absolute level," Nanami told her, and she made a note in her head to put it in later in his profile, "It makes him impossible to find."

"And you need Gojo for his eyes," Shoko connected, finishing.

"Precisely," Nanami grumbled.

She closed her eyes and exhaled roughly. "And you don't think he escaped? Outside? Where he could get kidnapped?" Her voice accentuated each syllable. She'd bother also admonishing him about Kakashi's lack of food intake, but this was Nanami. He wasn't an idiot.

"No," The male answered with confidence and an obvious offense that she'd think he'd be irresponsible, "The child stays as long as he's fed Miso Ramen."

She stared at the body. "Miso Ramen," She deadpanned.

"Yes."

She blinked. "How long has he been missing?" She asked, turning to the cameras slowly. Something shifted on the buzzing screens.

"Approximately two hours. I scoured his room to see if he was there, but he wasn't inside. I've searched around the house, and even called Megumi-kun just to ask if Kakashi-kun managed to fit inside his backpack in an attempt to escape again. There's no sign of him anywhere."

"What do you mean again?" She questioned in incredulity. Then her expression became blank.

Ignoring another one of Nanami's confirmations through the phone, she locked eyes with brilliant blue that belonged to a tiny, tiny, human in the cameras at the front door. Said human had white hair, a big, black coat with a green scarf, and grey pants that were adorned with brief, red welts of crimson.

He waved at the camera, fingers bloody and all.

His eyes curled in some sort of smile that made up for the cover-up of the medical mask.

"Hey, Nanami," Shoko started easily, "I think I found him."

"Pardon?" Came Nanami's voice.

"Maa," Came from the audio of the cameras, "I'm here to see my new mommy."

This shit never fucking ends.


[. . .]


Three Days Earlier


[. . .]


The car ride was silent.

After Nanami's and his new father's consistent argument ceased, he was told he'd be living with Megumi at some compound he barely got the name of. Nanami, of course, did the explaining, because as soon as the argument finished, his new father vanished instantly.

Kakashi wanted to delve deeper into his father's ability to body flicker, but now wasn't a very good time to think about the possible abilities he might have inherited. He had Copy-Sasuke to deal with and a new possible reliant male father figure.

Frankly, Kakashi didn't know what to feel about the two new presences. Copy-Sasuke made him want to die inside because the boy—despite the short meeting—was so much like his old student that it hurt. It dug into his already opened wound, pulling at the meat every second he was around him. It burned, and it damaged his heart, and he didn't want to be there anymore.

He was aware it wasn't fair on the boy because it was likely he was an entirely different enigma. But Kakashi still had trouble differentiating reality from his memories. (This still didn't seem real enough, and maybe it was a fucked up Genjutsu beyond all reason—but he'd attempted to dispel it so many times already, it had to be real.)

The blonde-haired man—Nanamin, he remembered the Yeti calling him—was someone else entirely. He was a mixture of Minato and Fugaku, an odd combination in itself with how opposite the two men were. Appearing hostile, Kakashi saw right through him; there was an unearthed tenderness and familiar, heartbreaking sympathy so prominent in the eyes that hid behind goggles that looked not unlike Obito's.

The old man stared at him like a burden—of course, he fucking was, when wasn't he?—and yet held such a caring fondness it was inexplicable.

The expression was so deep it resembled concern, and Kakashi—feeling the magnitude of power the man hid—endured the sentiment radiated. It stood apparent he cared for children if Megumi wasn't already evidence of his care.

He felt more or less safe with them, but it wasn't a difference because he didn't feel secure anywhere. Or, to put it bluntly, Kakashi didn't care about his well-being. The sooner he died, the faster he'd go home. Ah, but dying wasn't exactly a pleasant experience (he would know) so it was difficult for him to balance out his suicidal tendencies and the fear of death. (Though he didn't exactly fear death. He feared that he wouldn't end up where he hoped he would.)

Then again, sacrifices would be made to meet his family in the pure lands. One, or the other, he wondered. His answer was obvious.

And yet, when the older man offered his hand to hold—

Kakashi was uncomfortable. "What are you doing?" The little boy snapped, masking the paranoia creeping like a feverish illness across his body. His voice thankfully came out nonchalant.

Nanami pulled his hand back. "I was offering a hand," He admitted, but his voice was steady. "I was told by Shoko on the phone that you show signs of anxiety."

Kakashi ignored the Copy-Sasuke grabbing onto Nanami's hand—seriously, wasn't that kid old enough?—and walked forward. "Maa... I don't need it," He waved his hand at him. Then he stopped, turned around, and locked eyes with the tired gaze of not-love-child-of-Minato-sensei-and-Fugaku. He was super uncomfortable. Kakashi did not like being uncomfortable. (Shoko was a big freaking snitch.)

Inoichi was starting to get annoying with the subjugation quirks of his trauma. The man was dead, for Kami's sake, shouldn't the blasphemous accusations of his severe mental issues be gone by now? Besides, he didn't need his subconscious to nip him with guilt. Obito did enough of that in his head.

Reluctantly, Kakashi faced him completely and bowed as impossibly impolite as he could. "Thank you," He decided to say, straightening fast enough to catch the look of surprise that came over his new supposed caretaker's face, "But don't listen to the old lady. She stabbed me multiple times with many needles." He feigned fear.

The scowl of before was back in place. "Please refrain from insulting my co-workers," He told him. Although, Nanami had his fair share of insults he liked to say right about now.

"You work here?" Kakashi hummed, dropping the act and shifting his eyes to Megumi briefly. "Does he?" He pointed.

"I work here, Megumi-kun does not."

Obviously, Kakashi thought dispassionately.

"He will be joining this school once he's old enough," Nanami explained.

Kakashi scratched at his cheek. "School?" He prompted. He wasn't aware this was a school. He thought it was a mental institution.

An irritated sigh released from the blondie's mouth. "Your father explained nothing," He said more as a statement than a question. Megumi copied the scowl at the mention of the Yeti.

Kakashi shrugged. "I stabbed him," He liked to say, "So he cried. Wah Wah. So, no, not really."

They stared at him in a sudden silence. Megumi's face hadn't changed from the reveal, but Nanami's had, and Kakashi latched onto it. "What?" He asked the adult, blinking innocently at him.

"You stabbed him?" The male in sight questioned incredulously.

Kakashi shrugged again. "He called me a fetus, so I had to do it," He said. "Oh, and he kidnapped me," He held a finger up. "Plus he's ugly." The chirp in his voice would've been cute if the context wasn't so dreadful.

"That's not possible," Nanami spoke, hardly able to mask how impressed he seemed to be despite the denial he worded publicly.

Kakashi heard a honk from far away, but he decided to brush it off as his mental stability going haywire again. "What, the stabbing part or him being ugly?" Kakashi rubbed his irritated left eye, "...I hope it's the stabbing part."

"Stabbing," Megumi quipped.

"Ah," Kakashi lowered his hand to rub at his digits. Ow, forgot fingers were skinned. "Why?" He asked cutely. "I did it. I have evidence," He took out the bloody scalpel Shoko thought she confiscated from him, "See?"

The way he held it up—like it was something to be proud of—was very creepy to the blonde male. A smart, infinity-piercing child of Satoru? It was nightmarish. This child was only four, and already had the strength to defy the six eyes' logic? Nanami wasn't certain whether to feel weary or burdened. Because he didn't know what the hell this kid had.

Megumi, now with concrete evidence, wasn't doing any effort to hide the awe on his face. "You did it," The little boy murmured. If Kakashi wasn't so used to Sasuke's tsundere-asshole methods, he'd have missed Megumi's gratefulness.

"I'm a big boy now," Kakashi said, but he didn't look to see if his innocent comment caused any reaction. No, looking at the kid was still very much a bad idea.

"You stabbed him," Finality toned Nanami's statement.

"Maa, do I get a reward?" Kakashi looked at him like a sweet child.

The blonde opened his mouth likely for another question, but stopped mid-probe and closed it into a grim line. "I'm afraid this will need to be discussed later," He informed and began to walk, "It's far too late in my schedule for me to ask questions that will likely induce more unneeded headaches."

"Very wise of you," Kakashi quipped sarcastically, following after him.

And so here Kakashi was, strapped to something called a baby seat—fuck you, he was a big boy—in a car with another new human that was silent as all hell. The man was apparently named Kiyotaka Ijichi and he drove this ugly fucking monstrosity. He hated this... this thing people in this disgusting world called a car. Car? More like cardiac arrest. Seriously, this was a demon in disguise.

Who the hell used cars to travel? This was the embodiment of nightmares, with its loud sounds and its insufferable smell of smoke. It hurt his ears, his nose, and overall everything else because he was trapped. It was so small and he hated it. And being strapped—his precious scalpal taken away—to this embarrassment of a chair made matters worse.

He fussed like an actual child.

It was much like this before he went into the ride, too.

(Kakashi had initially froze when he saw the rumbling device, tensing at the loud sounds it produced that appeared hush to everyone else.

"What is that," He deadpanned seriously, turning toward the adult who stopped to hear him.

"...This is a car, Kakashi-kun," The male replied.

Kakashi was uneasy. "A car?" He prompted incredulously, dropping his initial careless facade. "Is it dangerous?" Again, though, it was hard to hide the interest. This better kill him if it was this ugly and scary.

Nanami continued walking. "No. Its only danger is the state of the driver."

Kakashi narrowed his eyes. "We can control this... animal?" Being devoured by an animal was unoriginal. Boring.

"It's a machine," Megumi said, confused.

Kakashi blanked. Oh god, a machine. "No." He curled his eyes in a smile.

"No?" Nanami was confused.

"No, I'm not going in."

"Have you ever seen a car?" Nanami asked, scowling.

"No. I lived in the woods like a squirrel," He said truthfully, though his tone bordered on sarcasm. From what his toddler memories provided, Kakashi had hardly ever left the cabin his mother had hid them in. He exclusively did so when his mother hadn't returned one evening, and well... that was perhaps when he made the mistake of getting lost and causing his mother's early demise.

Nanami's scowl didn't waver, and Megumi looked curious.

"I was told you were well taken care of," He grumbled, though it sounded like a threat. Was this man going to kill his new father? Oh, he hoped so. Ah, but he was the strongest, right? Ugh. Boring, again.

"Mommy took excellent care of me," He said, humming pleasantly. "She kept me very safe in our house. She kept violent sex traffickers and power-whores away. My father, on the other hand, tried to strangle me when we first met. By well taken care of, he meant survived."

Nanami looked appalled by his use of vocabulary.

"What's a whore?" Megumi asked innocently.

The man became impossibly worse.

Kakashi considered him, staring at his hair to avoid having a panic attack. "Maa... A whore?" Oh, Kakashi was going to have a fucking festival with this, "That's an easy question. It's dandruff man."

Megumi frowned. For a moment the child pondered, eyes roving over his face for further explanation. It took him a few seconds until recognition sparkled in his eyes. "...Gojo-sensei?" He stirred.

Kakashi tried not to remember Sasuke. He really fucking tried. "Yes," He said, closing his eyes in a fake smile. "He's the definition of that particular bad word that you should never use unless you're around him. In fact, you should call him that instead of Gojo-sensei. It's a sign of respect."

"Do not listen—"

"But you said it was a bad word?" Megumi mumbled, conflicted.

Kakashi rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "For other people. Dandruff man, on the other hand, will love it a lot," He spoke easily and convincingly.

He turned to Nanami. "I am a baby," He said, trying to convince the older man of his perfectly normal baby act. He thought it was going to work. ((Spoiler alert, it wouldn't.))

Nanami was glaring at him. He turned to the car again, seeing a gawking Ijichi. "I don't get paid enough for this," He sighed.)

There were constant glances shot in his direction by the nervous, skinny man with glasses named Ijichi. Kakashi met his gaze every time, dead and unnerving. The man almost always looked away, but Kakashi kept his stare just to scare him. It was funny and the only thing keeping him from going feral.

When the car ride ended, said driver escorted them (Kakashi totally didn't tremble when he got out of the car, vowing to never be inside such a constrained space again) and finally spoke.

"Er... Gojo...-kun?" He looked at him. He appeared serious, but Kakashi was able to discern his uneasiness.

Kakashi blinked. "Never call me that again," He ordered, and the man untangled, "Kakashi is better. Maa... add sama to it, too." Only close friends could call him names. These people? As far as Kakashi knew, they were unnecessary deviants.

"Don't bother," Nanami told the other adult in the vicinity and Kakashi shot a dirty look at him. How dare he destroy his masterful plan?

"Er... of course. Kakashi-kun," He seemed to wince, "Welcome to the private home of the Gojo estate. It belongs solely to the head of the clan, and only I and a few others know where it is."

"I see," Kakashi looked about the immense area, scrutinizing it. He turned to Nanami and Megumi, who seemed to be waiting. He pointed at them, "I know Sa—Megumi is going to live with me. But will my new dad live with us too?" He asked sweetly. He made sure to flutter his eyelashes and make his eyes big and wide.

Ijichi was rightfully confused. "New dad?" He mumbled, looking at Nanami for answers. No such luck, since the other male seemed equally as perplexed.

Kakashi sighed. Idiots, the lot of them. "Him," He pointed at Nanami, "The Banana."

Nanami gave way to a subtle irritation mixed with surprise and Megumi was neutral as usual.

The driver shook his head. "Nanami lives somewhere else. He will not—"

"Ewww," Kakashi scrunched up his nose, "Then I'm not living here. I like him," Kakashi said. "He seems like a responsible adult."

The driver turned to Nanami, shocked. "Is... Does this child...? Forgive my bluntness, but... He speaks far too well for a four-year-old."

Nanami regarded him with a surly expression. "Shoko-san is aware. A full medical examination will be done on him a week from today. For now, we'll assume he's simply above average."

"It's creepy," Ijichi mumbled. Briefly, his mind went to Shoko, wondering how she was doing.

Kakashi caught what he said and rose an eyebrow. "Creepy?"

That hostile tone snapped him out of his cloud-nine daze. "Er, nothing. Ah... Gojo—Kakashi-kun," He fiddled awkwardly, "Your father's rule was for you to stay here—"

"Maa... Too bad."

Nanami crossed his arms. So it seemed this kid had his genes thorough. Typical Gojo behavior...

"I know my father's going to be absent," Kakashi appeared unconcerned about the fact, "And I'd rather stay with an adult who won't get me killed. Megumi can come too." He added more as a benefit. Megumi wasn't exactly worshipping yet, but he'd get there eventually if Kakashi included him in his mischief. Or when Kakashi stopped being a little bitch and looked at him.

The two men stared at each other quizzically. One was struggling not to stress about Gojo's reaction, and the other was questioning whether he should take these children before they died in Gojo's care.

The kids, however, were just about over it. Megumi was already going on year four with the Yeti, and not once had he been of use; except during training. Kakashi just met the man and he already wanted to kill himself. No, seriously, the kids were the ones suffering, not the big-dickers.

If they made him stay here, Kakashi will escape. He is not remaining here to suffer and if he had to take Megumi with him, so be it.

He turned to Nanami then, breaking their inner brooding. He stretched his hands out, closing and opening his fists in a grabby manner. "Upsies," He babbled. Manipulation was the best way he'd be able to get out of here Scott-free.

Nanami was baffled, then sobered. He scowled. "No," He said.

Kakashi frowned. Wasn't this guy easily exploited? Gojo had all these people whipped to hell. Surely using his baby powers would work. "I'll steal those pastries from your briefcase if you don't carry me this instant," He threatened in a bored manner, still mimicking a carrying demand.

The man was unconvinced. Also impressed. The child had a keen sense of smell, too?

"And I'll cry," He said, looking all cute and tiny. He barely reached Nanami's knees, and that was with his gravity-defying hair.

Reluctantly, the male grabbed hold and carried him. Kakashi grinned smugly and turned to the driver. "Big Dada," Mirth circled his eyes.

"But—"

"I could sense conniving mischief from far away," Gojo's impulsive voice announced, appearing before them with big smiles. "Oh," He frowned a bit when he noticed Kakashi, "It's just from you."

"Shut up pedophile," Kakashi said automatically.

Megumi looked confused again but the driver looked mortified. And though Kakashi couldn't see his face because he was busy having a death stare with his father, based on the tightening of Nanami's fingers, he guessed he was just as shocked.

"Little Shit." He greeted splendidly. He lowered his bandages to stare at Nanami. "I thought he would've died with the car sound."

"What."

Kakashi flung a rock at him—from where or from what, nobody saw; they all thought he was hiding it in his sleeve—which Gojo didn't bother dodging; because somehow it bounced off.

Kakashi hummed. Interesting. "Done abandoning me?" He asked, tucking his head onto Nanami's shoulder. He forgot how nice it was being carried. Peasants really were useful.

Gojo scoffed. "Hardly—"

"Satoru."

The male turned to his old friend. Behind him, Ijichi was questioning why Gojo was casual around a genius toddler. Why was nobody losing their damn mind over this!? A toddler that speaks like a damn adult, who stabbed Gojo? (Shoko, the lovely woman that she was, sent everyone who was close friends the news.) It sounded like armageddon!

"When will he be able to get his papers?" Nanami asked the man, scowling and completely ignoring Ijichi's mental breakdown. That man had one every damn week.

"Soon," Gojo replied and turned to Ijichi. "Hey! Go sort those papers for me later, yeah? In about... A day or two from now? Thanks." He too ignored the hyperventilating.

When Gojo tasked him with another unnecessary task, Ijichi snapped. "Are you all mad!?" He barked, and everyone finally acknowledged him. Kakashi especially. God, his eyes were creepy. "That child is not normal!" He exclaimed, pointing at Kakashi.

"Neither are they," Kakashi replied in their waking silence.

They snapped their heads at him.

He suddenly looked suspiciously guiltless. "I mean... Baby noises."

"Did you just say baby noises?" Megumi questioned, and the child looked... put off? So this one wasn't normal either. Smart. He should've expected this from a Sasuke look-a-like. He swore they were multiplying.

"You know, he has a point," Gojo piped in, relaxed. "I'm surprised you didn't freak out, Nanamin!"

"I'm past my schedule of caring, and I am beyond irritated, Satoru," The blonde snarked.

"Fair." Gojo looked at his son, eyes just as piercing and invading. Kakashi felt nothing. If his father wanted to intimidate him, he'd have to do better. "So, Little Shit. Care to explain?"

Kakashi dutifully stayed quiet. In fact, to annoy him further, he turned his head away and hid in Nanami. He also had the audacity to pretend to yawn.

The strongest Shaman scowled.

Nanami was already walking away.

"Hey!" Gojo shouted, "I wasn't finished scaring him!"

"Do not waste any more of my time. Ask tomorrow, you imbecile. The child is exhausted." Nanami growled. Seriously, he didn't get paid enough for any of this shit.

"That's what he wants you to think—"

Megumi yawned too. "I meant Megumi-kun," Nanami glared over his shoulder.

"Oh, right. So can I bother my sperm?"

"Absolutely not. Shoko-san made it very clear not to leave you two alone."

"Ugh. She's just mad we broke a toothpick."

"Several jars and bottles," Kakashi voiced in.

"Is no one sane!?" Ijichi whispered.

No, nobody was.


[. . .]


And the insanity only continued during the days Kakashi spent inside the mansion-like home.

He'd arrived and his impressions gradually grew to indifference throughout the passing days. It was a desolate mansion without servants he'd anticipated to see, and his sole company besides his trauma was Megumi. The boy, if not at an academy, was on the opposite side of the mansion, presumably training. Kakashi hadn't concerned himself with checking it out.

He'd been too busy escaping anyway, which never worked in his favor; somehow, Nanami was always there to fetch him back. He was usually present in the afternoons and nothing more, so Kakashi had no idea how he managed to catch him in his most discreet of times. He presumed the weird energy surrounding the estate was the alarm. It would've aggravated him if Nanami didn't have the decency to leave food out.

He was locked inside, but the food was pesteringly delicious. Oh, and Gojo wasn't anywhere near him. He'd sensed him enough times by Megumi already, which meant he was avoiding him.

Kakashi didn't particularly care. The moments he'd seen Nanami out and about he'd bother him instead for some company, but it was always awkward because, in spite of the things he said, the man looked at him the same damn way. Sad.

He got under his skin a lot, and Kakashi was living it up in those moments. The blonde was an easy outlet for his developing dissociation, and it was sickeningly easy to annoy him. Nanami was infinitely more entertaining. That was probably just his bias, though. Kakashi had only ever talked to him—too afraid of Megumi's memory recounts, and too unwilling to chat with the Yeti.

It was just him and Nanami, usually. The revelation was a little sad. Kakashi was more or less amused, though, because Nanami was a funny man. Annoying someone was a very nice distraction.

At the end of the day, however, it was always Nanami there to tuck him in regardless of any protests. Not that he voiced any. The treatment was unnaturally nice, and he was starting to feel bad when he'd seen the man holding his head, stressed and muttering to himself one evening he reputedly decided another escape. He went back into his room after that.

Nevertheless, Kakashi wasn't too keen on giving a shit. It was just... It reminded him a lot of Sakumo, in a way. He'd been a brat as a toddler in his true life, but his father had never lost his patience. He still took care of him.

It was a little weird to compare Minato-sensei's-and-Fugaku's-love-child to his original father, but the similarities were starting to become a little too obvious.

Again, though, it all came down to how grounded to reality Kakashi was—or, more bluntly stated, how much he cared.

Kakashi did not like it in here. No amount of good treatment would ever make him enjoy this life, he swore. Everything sucked, down from the beautiful marble floors to the adjacent bathrooms and pretty modern rooming. It was spacious, stank of money, and most importantly, it was ugly.

Well... No, it wasn't, but Kakashi liked to gaslight himself to avoid forming any attachments. This home was probably the best he had ever slept in if he didn't count the constant nightmares plaguing both his real world and dreams. If he hadn't received the memories of his one, true, life, he'd honestly like it in here. He could've played or broken things like normal children.

It wouldn't have made him feel so eerie.

He swore at times he heard things tap at his window, or creep on the floors. There were even minuscule screeches chiming like something was being seared away the moment he woke.

Now, all of this was regretfully usual. He wasn't afraid of it, but his Shinobi side was invariably triggered with every instance, and he was tired.

Sleep was fitful enough and Kakashi didn't need little things twitching his ears or scenting his nose with burnt human meat. It stank of the charred remains from decades of dangerous work, down from the innocents he'd seen killed in battle, to his family he'd seen die the very same way.

All the occasions caused flashbacks he'd preferably tear away from his heart than relive. It was just like his old life, full of contempt and misery, and trauma. Inoichi had begged him to consider meditation, but that made things worse. Sitting alone in an attempt to quiet his thoughts only made them louder.

It was a punishment, he told himself. Punishment for giving up as soon as the haywire back in his old realm hit the bucket.

He was constantly contradicting himself. His heart reminded him of his failures, but his mind rationalized that it just wasn't his fucking fault. Parts of him were at war with one another, and he longed for some connection—for someone he once knew to come to him, remind him he wasn't going insane, that everything he was feeling and seeing was fine, normal, and real.

He had yet to succumb to insanity because he still pictured them in front of him, still heard them telling him to get the fuck over it and move on. Move on, move on, move on.

But how could he? How could he if he left them? When they weren't here?

He wanted his family back. He wanted to feel like he did those following years after the last great war when the sorrows were settling and the rest finalizing. He wanted so much and yet so little, because when he was sane;

He was numb.

An unconscious fear leaped and broke through his reverie of lives, and it left him feeling empty.

So very empty.

He spoke and interacted, but in between the pauses, he would slip away into the void he thought waited for him. (And though he couldn't see, Nanami recognized the signs and pretended that his comment annoyed him to altercate a reaction potent enough to pull him away from his dark thoughts.)

There was so much he could do, so much he would do—

But he felt dead. He was dead, he was sure.

The bandages that wept from his hands felt like a chilling sting when he closed them tight. He imagined those were the hands of his students; smiling, welcoming, and free. That they held him, that they were here—

They weren't here.

They had to be.

His heart wouldn't feel if they weren't. He wouldn't remember anything if they weren't.

But they aren't. You left them behind.

His eyes squeezed shut, and he clutched his head with one hand in a desperate attempt to forget.

Why? Why did they have to leave?

Why did he have to live?

What did he do to deserve life? To deserve another chance when so many that he cared for deserved it so much more?

They were always there, and he'd been the one to push them away once. He'd made the mistake of confining himself with his darkest thoughts and missed so many years he could've spent healing.

They were the kind ones. Not he.

They were the strong ones, not he.

They were freedom, not he.

It was so goddamn free. He wanted to feel that freedom again with the people he cared for most. He wanted to be happy, again.

The grief that weighed on him had lifted with the help of his students, and they never cared that they had to carry it. They never cared that he had been a man in the wrong before—they just cared that he was their sensei. Their teacher, their helper, their friend.

They loved him in their own way, like a child looking for guidance from a parent. He'd failed them so many times and yet they still accepted every part of him because...

Because they understood.

They knew him.

And now, they were gone.

They were gone and he died and he didn't even get a chance to hug them all and cry, cry, cry

"Kakashi-kun."

Kakashi snapped his head toward the open door and found Nanami dressed the same as yesterday. "I've been told by Megumi-kun you've tried to escape twice today," He said, crossing his arms with a petulant glare. His briefcase was still in hand, and the tiredness he saw reflected in his eyes indicated that he had just gotten off of whatever work he had left to this morning.

His fixation on today's events shattered his brink of insanity. "Maa... He lied," He said while hopping off of the bed. The white hair that covered his left eye moved, revealing the disappearing red. Red, red like Obito's last gift.

Nanami hadn't seen the red on his face but his bandages instead. "You've reopened your wounds," He pointed out with a narrow of his eyes.

Kakashi flexed his fingers without looking. "What wounds?" He played off.

Nanami's scowl deepened. "Don't play idiot, child. Did you hurt yourself trying to escape again?" He questioned severely, bending over to tug Kakashi closer by his arm.

The child let him. He said nothing.

"Honestly," Nanami grumbled, turning over his hands before letting go. "I'm just about at my wit's end with you. Did you not heed my warnings about your curse magnetism?"

Kakashi sniffed casually. "No," He chirped. He had, but he hadn't encountered them. Per-say. He hurt his fingers because some black barrier around his room burned them when he tried to pierce it. If he didn't know any better, he guessed Nanami put it there at his inconvenience.

Nanami rubbed his temple, irritated. "Forget it," He snapped, and grabbed his arm gently, "I've prepared a bath for you. We're leaving in an hour."

"Huh?" Kakashi looked not at all interested, "To where?"

"That is for you to see," He snapped at him, pushing him through the doors forcefully once they reached the bathroom closest to the boy's room, "Take a bath and dress. I will wait for you in the living room. Do not remove those bandages. I will change them once you're finished."

The door slammed shut.

Kakashi stood there for a few moments, collecting his thoughts. One, that Nanami hadn't stayed to make sure he wouldn't escape. Two, he was back early. Three?

He diverted his curiosity toward the magnificent black marble bathroom. Two toys were floating prettily on the bubbled water.

A pug and a duck.

Well, now...

Kakashi had already planned to be late, but now he had a treasure to entertain him with.


[. . .]


It was about forty-five minutes since he'd started bathing when he felt the energy around him change. He thought it was Nanami coming up to make sure he hadn't tried to escape a tenth time, but he was relatively surprised to see an ugly skinny creature instead.

Gojo was in front of him.

"Hey, Little Shit," He started, grinning, "Guess what~?"

Kakashi threw the duckie. It bounced right off.

"Good try, but wrong! Try again."

Kakashi raised his middle finger.

Gojo's smile became strained. "Rude. And wrong again, satan spawn! We're going to illegally make your papers!"

Kakashi was going to stab him again. "No thank you. Where's the banana?" He asked, splashing the water around and making a big mess. Might as well make it more of an inconvenience for him. How dare this man ignore him for three days? He missed out on all the things he could've ruined his life with!

For a second, the yeti didn't seem to know what he was talking about. When Kakashi squeaked the pug, Gojo's smile was back in place. "Oh! You mean Nanamin? He went to go get milk. So now, I'm in charge!"

Kakashi, butt-naked, was already climbing off the big triangular tub of water. No, he would not deal with this right now. He couldn't believe Nanami had left him to die.

Gojo threw a towel at him. "Don't be late, Little Shit. We're leaving in thirty seconds!"

Kakashi yanked it off himself to narrow his eyes at the adult. "Do not rush me. I will pee on you." He wrapped the towel around himself before saying, "Pedophile. You're watching me change."

Gojo flipped him off—him, a fucking toddler—before promptly disappearing from the room.

Kakashi was so going to snitch on him.


[. . .]


He purposely took an extra thirty minutes to get ready until he was finally standing in front of a lingering Gojo—to his dismay, the Yeti was relaxed, swiping his thumb on the rectangular device Shoko also had.

Kakashi tugged at his pant legs—he actually tore a hole in them—and the older being paused, mouth parted in slight confusion. In a flash, though, it became neutrality. "Hey. You took your time, Little Shit. Were you taking a big shit?" He snickered at his joke. Kakashi decided he wouldn't care about his hidden feelings.

"I pissed on your bed," Kakashi replied with his trademark smile. He also took some new bandages that were likely Gojo's eyewear and cleaned up his hands, which Kakashi hoped would piss him off. Heh. Piss him off.

"Liar," Gojo said with a plastic grin. "You don't know where my room is."

Kakashi had pissed on his bed. And made sure to seek out the room that reeked of his old man the most. "Sure," The boy hummed. He couldn't wait until he found out.

Gojo clicked his tongue. "Are you done wasting time?" He asked him, shoving his phone into his pocket.

"Not at all," Kakashi replied sarcastically.

"Great!" Gojo grabbed his arm, and Kakashi almost bit him. "Nope," Gojo stopped him before he could, seizing him by the back collar of his shirt, "You're like a diseased puppy. No biting, little shit! Let's go!"

Kakashi felt the familiar shift—body flicker, again—and suddenly found himself dropped on tiled, clean flooring.

Of course, unnoticed by Kakashi, Gojo's irritation was enunciated when the boy landed perfectly on his two feet.

"This is it?" Kakashi asked, dusting himself off while taking a look around. It was freshly painted, but the hallway was dark enough to make it ominously dirty. And part of the wall was missing. "Looks like you're selling me," He mumbled out, thinking that perhaps there was some sort of renovation going on.

"I wish," Gojo grumbled and strolled forward with a quick snatch of his arm. "Follow, sweet sperm of mine! You need your picture taken and a thumbprint."

It was one thing for Nanami to hold Kakashi, but it was a whole other problem if Gojo was doing it. He was not allowed near him, and Kakashi was extremely tempted to cut his skin. No—he was going to do it. Kakashi fiddled his little hand inside the pocket of his sweatpants for the kitchen knife he'd stolen days prior and hid under his bed for possible emergencies.

"Stop trying to assassinate me," Gojo huffed, confiscating the knife and throwing it over his shoulder like this was a daily occurrence. "I have eyes everywhere."

"And yet you still got stabbed, old man," Kakashi jabbed. It wasn't like he was going to stab him. It would've been a little prick, is all. A simple warning.

"Lucky shot," Gojo admitted, raising him to eye level like a rag doll. "I'm not at all surprised, actually. You're my kid, after all, " He looked extremely unhappy about that fact and weirdly impressed.

Kakashi hummed. "Had time to think about my incredible existence?" He asked pettily. "You don't strike me as the thinking type."

Bitterness became frighteningly prominent on the shaman's features. "Be lucky I don't execute you, kid," Gojo mused aloud. "You have unstable curse energy and you're far too observant to be a normal kid. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a curse," He conveyed calmly, but Kakashi caught the threatening edge in his tone.

"Oh?" Kakashi prompted in a bored fashion. "Sounds like somebody's mad," Kakashi dulled.

Gojo rolled his wrist in an uncaring manner. "Hardly, Little Shit," A cruel grin formed on his lips, "Don't change the subject! Either you've been controlled, or you're some sort of anomaly. Regardless, you're a major danger and liability not only to the Jujutsu World but to me. You're not supposed to exist. At all."

Something snapped inside Kakashi—a sudden, unadulterated and hideous qualm. "And who's fault is it that I exist?" He spat back, quickly arriving at all the conclusions he ever needed.

It was him.

This... Gojo Satoru.

It was Gojo Satoru's fault he existed. It was his fault he lived, his irresponsibility that took him away from his loved ones.

Everything he lost, everything that could have been, was his fucking fault.

And yet Kakashi still stabbed himself with blame.

The room abruptly dropped in temperature.

Gojo snorted. "Don't change the—"

"Subject, sure," Kakashi held himself deathly composed, "I wasn't changing the subject, though. You think I'm a problem, cool, great. But who made this problem?" Kakashi rose an eyebrow, simmering his rage. "Who is at fault for my existence?"

The room was silent for a few minutes after that. The two Gojo's stared at each other, equally nonplussed to let the other win, and similarly having millions of thoughts course through their brain.

For a moment, Kakashi thought his new father would reply with a shitty attempt at a joke. To say he was pleasantly surprised with his serious response would be a lie.

"I'd say it was my fault," Gojo mumbled, looking a little put off by Kakashi's accusing glare that immediately intensified, "But it was your mother's choice in the end. I couldn't control what she wanted to do with you. Heck, I didn't even know she got knocked up! She never told me."

Kakashi's glare dropped. Numbness pulsed within him again and the voices in his head mocked his anger. He supposed that was true. They both held equal blame for his existence; so why was he so angry about it? Kakashi had gotten himself killed, and life's order conveniently placed him in this world. It was just the cycles.

It was the natural order.

Seeing the hollow look come about his son's face, Gojo tsked in slight irritation. "Did you want me to kill your mom?" His face was suddenly very close to his, "Was that it? End her life and yours?"

Kakashi didn't answer.

"No, right?" Gojo lowered him to the floor, much gentler than he likely intended it to be. "You can blame me all you want, but everything ultimately came to your dead mom. And correct me if I'm wrong... Which I'm not, but didn't she sacrifice herself for you?"

Kakashi didn't flinch or fidget. He remained quiet instead, thinking.

"Don't you think trying to kill the strongest sorcerer is a death wish?"

He couldn't believe he had a father for an idiot. "Obviously," Kakashi declared blandly. "I wouldn't do it if it wasn't."

Gojo frowned. "You're suicidal?"

"You're blind for someone who's all-seeing."

"Damn, you're screwed in the head. You're three."

"Four, pedophile."

"And stop calling me that," Gojo reprimanded. "I'm trying to help you."

The dry look issued at Gojo felt almost discriminating. "By keeping me confined with no human contact? Hooray... Father of the year," The silver pup waved his hands in mock jazz. Gojo's care was hardly needed. Kakashi had worse things trying to push him over the edge.

"Sure," Gojo's shit-eating grin was back, "Giving you space to think and all that. You lost your mom, wouldn't that be the right call?"

Kakashi shrugged. "You'd know better than to leave a grieving child by themselves," He pointed out, even though he was not at all grief-stricken by his mother's death. There was guilt, yes, but not sadness. His sadness stemmed from the students he'd failed. His family waiting for him on the other side.

Here? He could care less if anyone died.

"So giving you a house, saving you from a near-death experience, and hiding you from greedy old gas bags doesn't count for something? You're wounding me, here."

"I never wanted that," Kakashi tugged at his arm.

The adult kept a firm grip. "You need it, though," Gojo hummed, patting his head. "I'm so merciful, you know. Stabbing me would've gotten you executed!"

"And I don't care."

The Yeti continued without any regard for what he said. "I'm so nice. You're such a bad son. Trying to get rid of me, and all."

"Hypocrite," Kakashi accused. There he goes, changing the subject...

Gojo ignored that, "I took you in when I could've sent you to the orphanage!"

"You didn't have much of a choice," Kakashi quipped pleasantly.

"It's my job," Gojo gibed, "Like it or not, you're my kid, and I'm your pops."

"You're a terrible father," Kakashi continued insulting.

"You're making this incredibly difficult," Gojo pouted.

"You just threatened to kill me. You sort of deserve this."

"You stabbed me, first!"

"You called me a fetus."

"You're still on that? Don't be mad because it's true."

"Your mom."

"Oh, like yours?"

"See? You're mean to me."

Gojo opened his mouth—

And stilled.

In that instant, several howls that sounded distinctly like human screams echoed into their room from the inside, seizing his heart with something dark.

Kakashi placed himself on guard immediately. His senses caught something frigid amongst themselves, and Kakashi would've felt insulted that his new father had pushed him behind his lanky legs if the sensation wasn't so reminiscent of killing intent.

The ground rumbled.

"This is exactly what happens when they don't attend us fast enough," Gojo whined, even though Kakashi was sure it was their fault for running late, "They have horrible customer service. Zero stars."

Kakashi couldn't help but agree more so on the lack of etiquette. "Clearly," He said, eyeing a bubbling, black shadow slowly growing by the second on one of the far, broken corners of the building. Is this what everyone called curses? This sensation? That... weird dick-looking shadow?

Gojo scooped him up before he could get a good look at it. "I'm leaving you outside," His father announced flippantly, completely calm in the killing intent aura, "Don't die!"

And before Kakashi could remind him that he was a curse magnet, he was unceremoniously hung by his shirt outside by a lamppost and left to suffer.

"Wow," He pushed his legs up and flipped to stand on top of the metal pole. "Wait. I'm free."

Something growled to his right.

Dull eyes turned and saw screaming children running away from a blob of human flesh big enough to rival the hideous car machine he went on once, locking in on a single child trapped amongst the pile of waste, screaming. Several playground builds were destroyed, and the bodies of several parents lay to ruin.

Kakashi was very, very, tired.

"Maa... Looks like Pakkun's shit."


[. . .]


"Where is that boy?" Nanami stressed, coming down the stairs hurriedly and with a seething edge. "We're late."

What the male didn't notice, however, was the very blatant dick drawing unrestricted for all to see on the fridge.

If only he had checked an hour and a half prior...


[. . .]


Kakashi stared down at the appalling creature, decidedly thinking while he watched the petrified adults hurry to grab their children and run. His father wasn't going to come for him here seeing that he was dealing with his own shit back at that child-trafficking place. (He swore that's what it was.) This was all him, and if he didn't act quickly, the boy—the only one unfortunate enough to get caught in the crossfire out of all the kids—would die.

"Help!" The boy cried, waving his limbs around with desperate wails. Tears streamed down his face, integrating with the blood stemming from the right side enveloped with curse skin. Said side was likely being eaten by the way it sunk and hid behind the pounds of flesh, and Kakashi was eerily resonant of someone. A face oh so similar it hurt.

Memories of that pale, sunken face came rushing back to him—decades and decades long ago.

When he'd been eleven, selfish, and stupid.

"You're tricking me," He said out loud to no one in particular. His head was starting to hurt from the sheer volume of the boy's painful hollers for help. He could even hear the crunch of bones, a sound so reminiscent of his past.

He wasn't aware of it, but his body started trembling. "It's not him," He mumbled, clenching his hand and drawing blood. "This isn't before."

It's not Kannabi Bridge.

He didn't feel anything—couldn't, shouldn't. The boy was going to die. With no right side, how would he continue on? He'd suffer through life.

He was done for.

An ebony eye locked with his different galaxy blue.

"I'm about to die,"

Kakashi's heart stung, and he hated it. This wasn't his real world. This wasn't him.

"But I'll become your eye and see the future with you."

He turned away when the killing intent resurfaced, not trying to stick around for the bitter end.

Just leave it, it's not your world. It's not your job anymore. You have no purpose here.

His eyes closed.

He isn't Obito.

"Those who abandon their friends are even worse than scum."

His breath caught.

Abrupt and heavy, heavy, rage shot his heart.

"Help..." The boy croaked, limp, now. And yet he still tugged away, hopeful for any aid.

This was his friend.

He'd be damned if this was an illusion or not. In any life, he wasn't going to let anyone else die on him ever again.

Kakashi turned around, faced the monster, and leaped.

This is Obito.

Kicking back against the pole, Kakashi used that momentum to aim his leg onto the horrid mush of brown and pierced the eye. The creature gave a pained shrill on impact, and the hand, so terrifyingly life-like, let the victim go. The child came off with a squelching pop, face half-bloodied but intact. And the child gasped, alive—so, very, alive—stumbled forward and away.

In an immediate reaction to his ingrained memories of his past life, Kakashi jumped back far enough and raised his hand.

He didn't care. He wouldn't care. But this was Obito, this had to be—it was him, it had always been him

"Chidori!" He exclaimed, bouncing against one of the broken red metals of childhood and launching himself toward the monster. An electrifying blue light—purple, almost—sparked to life on his palm and perforated into the life-like stitched flesh.

Steam seared his nose in a rotting stench of meat.

Kakashi coughed, suddenly bone-tired but ignited with adrenaline, and turned to see his work with a trip.

The thing was shrinking. Steaming, he saw, screaming, he heard.

And when it disappeared completely from sight, the boy with spiky black hair, bloody face, and goggles stared back at him. Awed, benumbed, and nostalgic all in one.

The sight of Obito—it's him, it was him, he was here—caused him to heave.

Unparalleled fear nabbed him then, and Kakashi was disoriented.

Blood oozed from his nose, his palms, his left eye

"Someone help them!"

Kakashi whipped his head, one eye closed and panting. People were closing in, energies were shifting.

He didn't need to be here.

So he left, unable to see the lingering debt of the boy who looked so much like his old friend.


[. . .]


Present


[. . .]


Shoko wiped his face clean from blood, exasperated.

"You what."

"Beat it up."

"You fought it?"

"Yeah?" Kakashi expressed plainly, pouting when she made a particular hard swipe across his forehead. She was violating his face. (Anything but Obito, anyone but him, think all but him—)

"Why the fuck did you fight it?"

"Maa..." Kakashi sneezed like a puppy, effectively removing the soap that got stuck in his nose. That shit stung and burned. "I was bored," He expressed breezily. (Where was he now? Where could he have gone?)

"You were bored."

Kakashi clapped his hands as a reply. (Was that you, Obito?)

On cue, Gojo appeared. "Oh," He lowered the mochi-mochi he was munching on, "I completely forgot about you."

Kakashi grabbed the shampoo bottle and threw it against his father's head.

Somehow, it made a direct hit.


[. . .]


A/N: Thank you for reading, folks!

Toodles~

Ana.