Chapter 7

The sharp, pungent scent of disinfectant burning his sensitive nose was the first thing Sakumo became aware of. He felt strangely numb and disconnected. He tried to concentrate, to figure out where he was and how he had gotten here. It was hard to focus, his mind felt slow and sluggish. He could make out muted sounds, footsteps, voices. Without more context, they didn't make any sense. He couldn't make out any words that were being spoken, they were muffled as if the speakers were in the next room. With a supreme effort, he managed to open his eyes. Everything was a blur. He blinked and brought one hand up to rub them. It hurt when he moved his shoulder, though the pain felt strangely distant.

Trying again, he finally managed to focus on the plain white ceiling above him. His brow furrowed. Why was it so hard to think? Slowly, very slowly, things began to come into focus. He was laying on his back in a bed that was definitely not his own. He ached but in a muted and distant way. Painkillers, the thought scurried through his brain, then out again before he could properly process it. He flexed his fingers, and took a mental inventory, assuring himself that all of his limbs were present and in more or less working order. His left leg felt as if it was elevated and he couldn't seem to move it but he was fairly certain it was still attached. He wasn't up to attempting to raise his head to look just yet. It nagged at him; something about that was important.

What happened? Where am I? The effort it took to form even those thoughts coherently was taxing. He was having trouble staying focused for more than a handful of moments at a time. The ceiling above him offered no answers. He closed his eyes with a heavy sigh and reopened them, hoping things would suddenly make more sense. He disliked this slow, sluggish feeling.

His fuzzy brain was trying to decide if it was worth the effort to attempt moving in order to get more information when he heard footsteps approaching. They didn't continue past, but stopped beside him, and a voice spoke. "Ah, you're awake, I see."

Sakumo grunted noncommittally. He wasn't entirely certain awake was an appropriate term for it. His dark eyes turned to the speaker. A slender, bespectacled man dressed as a medic. I'm at the hospital? What happened? Did the mission go badly? Wait, did I ever go? Thinking was difficult. He couldn't seem to hold a thought. No matter how he tried, he couldn't recall a single detail about the mission. His memory was jumbled and he couldn't seem to remember what had landed him here. He felt a sense of urgency. This was important.

"What happened?" he managed to get out past the dryness in his throat. It came out a hoarse croak but the other man apparently understood.

"You took a pretty nasty tumble down the hillside from what I hear. Looks like you got caught in a landslide. Your left leg is broken. It's going to require more surgery and then physical therapy before it fully heals. You're going to have to take it easy for a while – no walking unaided until you've strengthened it again. But the good news is that I don't see any reason that it won't heal completely. So long as you don't try overdoing it too soon," he reiterated sternly. He knew full well how shinobi – especially the jonin - could get. Anxious to return to duty, they'd push themselves past prescribed limits, only to end up back in his care in worse shape than before. He continued. "Apart from that, you got banged up pretty badly in the fall. You've got some lacerations, bruises, and a concussion. You have a fairly deep gash in your shoulder. Don't try moving it too much or you'll tear out the stiches. I have you on painkillers at the moment. Be careful or you could end up exacerbating your injuries and not realize it."

Landslide? Fall?

Sakumo sat up abruptly as his memory returned and he remembered just how he'd come to end up in this state. He ignored the much more present pain and wave of nausea caused by the sudden motion. "Kakashi?!" he gasped, near panic. He swallowed hard, trying to keep from vomiting – from pain, dizziness, or sheer panic, he didn't know. "Where's Kakashi?! What happened to my son!?"

"He's fine!" the medic assured him quickly, placing a hand on his uninjured shoulder and gently yet firmly pushing him back down. Sakumo didn't resist, though he cursed his present condition as he screwed his eyes shut and concentrated on taking several deep breaths. The dizziness passed and the nausea eased. He reopened his eyes and noticed that the medic had adjusted the bed so his head and upper body were slightly raised.

The other man inclined his head to one side. Sakumo's gaze followed the line until he saw what he was indicating. Kakashi was sitting in a chair in the far corner of the room. His legs were drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them and he was watching Sakumo over the tops of his knees with solemn grey eyes. There were bruises on his cheek and arms and a bandage was tied tightly around his head.

"He hit his head in the fall and has a mild concussion and some bumps and bruises, but he's otherwise just fine. He can go home in a few days."

"Kakashi," Sakumo breathed softly, relief flooding through him. Tension he didn't even realize he'd been feeling drained away at the sight of his son safe and relatively unharmed. He barely heard the medic taking his leave as he took stock of his own situation. His broken leg had been set and was in a sheathed in a bulky cast up to his knee and was currently being held in an elevated position by a series of slings and pulleys. Mindful of his injured shoulder, he reached up with his good hand to rub at an ache on the back of his head, wincing as he felt the knot on the back of his skull. He frowned slightly as his fingers tangled in his hair. It was hanging loose down his back. He made a mental note to ask someone for something to tie it back; he hated it down. He turned his attention back to his son. Kakashi hadn't moved or spoken. "Kakashi?"

After another long minute of silence, the boy uncurled and got to his feet. He was clad in light grey hospital issue pajamas that were somewhat too large on him. He padded silently over to the side of the bed on bare feet. Seeing the uncertainty in dark eyes that stared up at him, Sakumo shifted over as far as his elevated leg would allow. Kakashi climbed up beside him, snuggling against his side as he wrapped one arm around him.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he whimpered in a small voice.

"It's okay." He ran his hand through his son's unruly silver hair. "You're safe. That's all that matters."

He heard Kakashi's breath hitch in his chest, felt the small body trembling with suppressed emotion. Kakashi buried his face into Sakumo's side, crying silently. Sakumo didn't say a word, simply continued to stroke the boy's hair, allowing him the release of emotion he so desperately needed. He needed to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering his son as soon as possible. For now, it could wait. Kakashi was relatively unharmed and that was all he cared about at the moment. Sakumo closed his eyes as he held his son close, forcing aside thoughts of what could have happened, simply focusing on the here and now.

The medic returned a half hour later to find both father and son sound asleep. The boy's face was splotchy from crying. He fetched another blanket and tucked it around the small boy, leaving him to sleep in his father's arms. They both needed the rest and after his fright, the child needed to feel secure. He'd been concerned for the boy. He hadn't spoken a word other than to answer direct questions. Even then it had been mostly single word answers spoken in a flat monotone. Ignoring the protests of the medics, the boy had gotten out of bed, walked down the hall to his father's room, and refused to budge from the chair in which he planted himself. Whatever had happened to lead to their injuries had clearly upset him. Now it appeared that the emotional injuries could heal as well as the physical. Making a few brief notes on his clipboard, he left the room quietly, leaving them to their rest.

A few days later, Kakashi was discharged from the hospital. Other than some of the more serious bruises and the cut that ran along his hairline, his injuries were healed. On his father's insistence, he returned to his classes at the Academy during the day. At night, he came back to spend it at his father's side. Sakumo didn't forbid him. It had been just the two of them ever since Sayomi had died when Kakashi had been just an infant and they were close. If it comforted Kakashi to stay here instead of alone at the house, he wouldn't say no.

It was all too easy to forget that Kakashi was still only five years old. He acted so much older most of the time. But he was still a young child who needed his father's comfort after a bad fright. Sakumo had always been open with his affection for his only child. He wanted him to grow up secure in his parent's love. He'd deal with the stiffness in his muscles the following morning when Kakashi chose to climb up onto the narrow hospital bed to sleep in his arms. His son needed to feel safe. Everything else was secondary to Sakumo in the face of Kakashi's need, especially his own comfort.

Sakumo was glad to see Kakashi acting like the child he still very much was, in spite of the circumstances. It was a rarity these days. Kakashi tended to be a serious child, often acting much older than his five tender years. He was growing up much too fast for Sakumo's taste. It couldn't all be due to his abilities. He didn't recall being nearly so serious when he was Kakashi's age. But this was who his son was, like it or not.

Kakashi was still a bit subdued but Sakumo didn't push him to talk. Right now his son needed to be allowed to be a child, to seek comfort and not have to explain himself. That could wait until he was over his shock and fear. Sakumo could tell that Kakashi was shaken by what had happened and was struggling to process it. They both could have died in their harried fall. That a broken bone and some comparatively minor injuries was the worst of it was truly a miracle in and of itself.

Kakashi walked alone through the streets of the Hidden Leaf Village without a destination in mind. Classes had been dismissed for the day and he had nowhere to go. Several of the other children were going to play in the park and had invited him along to join in their games. He had brushed them off, saying the medics wouldn't allow so much activity yet. It wasn't exactly a lie. He had been discharged but was still supposed to take it easy or a bit. He left the 'a bit' part intentionally vague. He didn't feel like playing today.

He didn't want to go home. The house seemed big and empty and lonely right now. He wanted to see his father. The medical ninja should have performed the final surgery needed to finish repairing his broken leg today. Kakashi couldn't bring himself to go to the hospital. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but seeing his father hurt had shaken him badly. His father was always so strong and dependable – he always came back from his missions and always made things right. Kakashi was haunted by the image of seeing his father unconscious, his face pinched and pale, dark bruises showing lividly against his skin. His confusion upon awakening was understandable but terrifying at the same time. His movements were slow and cautious so as not to aggravate his wounds, not steady and fluid as Kakashi was used to seeing.

Kakashi had watched the first time his father had put his weight on his broken leg for physical therapy. Sakumo had refused painkillers, stating he didn't like the way they made him feel sluggish and stupid. Though he had smiled reassuringly at Kakashi, he'd still seen the pain his father was in. His face had paled and his jaw set and his breathing had been short and ragged. The session had exhausted him and he'd collapsed into a deep sleep almost as soon as it was over. Kakashi didn't think he could handle seeing his father so soon after surgery. He knew his father was trying to hide his own pain from him and that made it even worse.

Kakashi knew that it was his fault for running off. His guilt was threatening to choke him. His father had assured him it had been an accident and it wasn't his fault but Kakashi knew better. Sakumo had missed out on an important mission and it was all Kakashi's fault. He wiped the tears that welled up in his eyes away angrily. He had no right to cry.

"Hey, Kakashi!" a familiar voice pulled him out of his reverie. He refused to think of it as brooding. Or worse, sulking.

"What do you want, Obito?" he asked wearily. He wasn't in the mood to listen to Obito's sniping at him today, telling him how he was going to surpass him and how great his Sharingan was going to be once it awakened. He just wanted his father to be better. Barring that, he wanted to be left alone, not get pulled into Obito's one-sided rivalry with him.

"You look terrible. Is something wrong?" Obito fell into step beside Kakashi, giving him a concerned look as he pushed his goggles up onto his forehead. Kakashi being anti-social was hardly anything new. Obito sensed this was different. He knew the other boy had recently been hurt; he'd missed several days of classes due to being in the hospital and had still looked rather battered when he'd returned. It didn't explain the strangely vacant look in his eye and the way he seemed to be folded in on himself. For all his competing and determination to surpass Kakashi, Obito was a kind-hearted boy. Kakashi seemed to be retreating even more than normal and it concerned him.

"Nothing," Kakashi said shortly.

Obito rolled his eyes. The brusque answer was just what he had expected. Arrogant jerk! "Does it have something to do with why you missed classes?"

If he hadn't been watching Kakashi so intently, he would have missed the tiny flinch at his words. A look of almost panic flashed across his face, gone before Obito had even realized it was there. He didn't answer and his silence spoke volumes. His brow furrowed as his face pulled down into a fierce frown as he continued on as if he hadn't just nearly stumbled over his own feet. Obito's concern shifted towards worry. Bored indifference was Kakashi's default setting. This looked almost like… fear.

Obito knew he was risking the loss of a limb, but the risk was worth it. He reached out and put a hand on Kakashi's shoulder, shocked by the tension that ran through the other. "Hey," he said softly. "What's wrong?"

Kakashi stopped walking and turned to face Obitio, intending to snap at him to go away and leave him alone. His glare had no real heat behind it, however, as he looked into Obito's face. In spite of all the verbal and physical sparring they did, all the insults they traded, Kakashi couldn't see anything other than genuine concern in Obito's expression. Obito didn't possess nearly enough guile to fake such a thing.

"My dad's hurt." The words were past his lips before he realized it.

"Oh. He's gonna be okay, though, right?"

Kakashi nodded. "Eventually. He broke his leg and got pretty banged up. He missed a really important mission. It's my fault." His tone was bitter with self-recrimination.

Obito frowned slightly. He was fairly certain Kakashi's father was a jonin-level shinobi. Kakashi may be well on his way to becoming a skilled shinobi but he was still only five years old. He couldn't imagine the other boy could have possibly done anything to cause serious injury to someone of that level.

"Yeah, right," Obito scoffed. "You're not that good!"

Kakashi jerked away from him. "It wasn't on purpose!" he nearly shouted.

"I never said that it was!" Obito retorted. "You're an Academy student. I thought your dad was supposed was supposed to be a jonin or something. Some jonin he is if he can get beaten by a brat like you!"

Kakashi's eye twitched and Obito was certain that the other was about to hit him. He had been trying to provoke a reaction and was beginning to think he may have taken things just a step too far. Instead of punching him, Kakashi simply turned away. "You don't know anything," he muttered as he started walking again.

Obito stared at Kakashi's retreating back, stunned. Something was definitely wrong. He hurried to catch up. He remained silent as they walked. Kakashi gave no indication he was even aware that Obito was there, though Obito knew better. Kakashi was observant if nothing else. If he was determined to ignore him, Obito was just as determined to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering him.

After several minutes, Obito began to suspect that Kakashi had no clear destination in mind. He seemed to be wandering aimlessly, going whichever way his feet took him. Before long they had left the bustling crowds of the central village behind in favor of less crowded and hectic avenues. It wasn't the way to the hospital and it wasn't the direction Kakashi normally headed when going home.

Obito decided to try a different approach. "Hey, where are you going anyway?" he asked. Kakashi raised one shoulder slightly in a half-shrug. It was a half-shrug more than Obito had expected. "Aren't you going to go see your dad?"

This time there was no mistaking Kakashi's flinch. "No." He couldn't quite manage to keep the faint tremor from his voice.

Obito stopped, grabbing Kakashi's arm and spinning the other boy to face him. He put his hands on Kakashi's shoulders, looking him in the eye. "Stop being suck a prick, Kakashi, and talk to me! You have friends, you know! This is what friends do – they're here for one another!"

Kakashi simply stared at Obito for a long moment. He had always been a loner and he knew his father wished he'd socialize more with his peers. Sakumo was easy-going and friendly by nature. In spite of his tremendous power as a shinobi, he was down to earth, humble, and kind. He was well-liked and had many friends. People were naturally drawn to his charisma and easy smile. Kakashi tended to be rather blunt when speaking, often coming across as cold or arrogant, even if that wasn't his intent. He didn't understand the point of small-talk and was often uncomfortable around others so he hid his discomfort behind a mask of indifference.

"The doctors performed the last surgery to fix his leg today," Kakashi said slowly. His gaze was firmly on the ground and his hands were stuffed into his front pockets. "He'll probably be out for a while. I – I don't like seeing him like that." He clenched his jaw, waiting for Obito to ridicule him.

"Oh," Obito said softly, his tone sympathetic. He considered for a moment. "Why don't you come hang out at my place. I'm sure Grandma won't mind." Kakashi raised his gaze, staring at Obito in surprise. Obito grinned at him. "Come on! It'll be better than walking around sulking."

"I'm not sulking!" he protested reflexively.

"Uh huh. Sure, whatever." He threw an arm around Kakashi's shoulders and began walking, steering them towards the Uchiha District.

Kakashi tried half-heartedly to pull away but the other boy's grip was firm. Bemused, he allowed himself to be steered through the streets. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Obito's cheerful smile.

Did I just make a friend?