Author's Note: Thanks all for the kind reviews on the last chapter! Showing the contrast between Sakumo as a father, a Leaf shinobi, and the White Fang and how he deals when those roles overlap was tricky and I'm glad I managed to pull it off.

Chapter 22

Days like today, Hiruzen wished the Second Hokage had chosen someone – anyone - else to be his successor as he keenly felt every ounce of responsibility and every one of his years weighing down heavily upon him. When Minato Namikaze and his team had returned from Kannabi Bridge word had spread like wildfire that Kakashi Hatake was in possession of the Sharingan. Hiruzen had spent several days reading mission reports and interviewing the team, making certain of the facts surrounding the youth's acquisition of the eye. While he did not believe Kakashi was capable of murdering a friend or stealing a kekkei genkai, he needed to be as certain as possible about what had transpired. The Uchiha jealously guarded their Clan's dojutsu and an outsider possessing it was certain to meet with opposition.

And it had.

Which had led to an internal crisis that threatened to plunge the Leaf into a civil war if not handled properly. One of the Uchiha's members, an unremarkable man in his early twenties, had taken exception to the non-Clan boy's possession their Clan dojutsu. He had attacked Kakashi in an attempt to take the Sharingan from him. As he had not awakened the Sharingan for himself, it was suspected he had hoped to claim it from Kakashi. He had grossly underestimated the boy's skill and sense of self-preservation. Kakashi had killed the man in what was clearly self-defense. That didn't mean there was no fallout, however. An already tense situation, Hiruzen now had the unenviable task of keeping it from becoming a powder keg and plunging the Leaf Village into civil war.

One third of his current crisis stood stiffly across his desk from him – Fugaku Uchiha, head of the Uchiha Clan. He looked displeased at being summoned. Hiruzen resisted the urge to massage his temples against a building headache.

"Fugaku, while I understand that there is opposition within your Clan about Kakashi Hatake's possession of the Sharingan, I cannot condone attacks on a shinobi of this village in an attempt to take it back. We're just coming out of a protracted war. I'm sure I don't have to explain why we must avoid internal conflict, lest the uneasy peace between nations be shattered by those seeking to take advantage of our further weakness."

For his part, Kakashi had been shaken by being attacked by a fellow Leaf shinobi in the village itself. He was otherwise unharmed and was now safely at home with a quartet of ANBU keeping watch over him to ensure there were no more unfortunate incidents. Leaving Hiruzen to soothe the ruffled feathers of the Uchiha who were already unhappy with the Hatake boy's possession of the Sharingan. His only consolation was that Sakumo was currently out of the village. Otherwise, he would likely abdicate on the spot. As it was, he was not looking forward to the man's return. Few things could truly enrage Sakumo. An attack on his son by a member of one of the village Clans was something that was sure to set him off. As Hokage it was going to fall to Hiruzen to convince him not to tear down the entire Uchiha compound. He was not looking forward to it. This matter needed to be settled once and for all before Sakumo's return if he had any hope of avoiding internal conflict.

Hiruzen continued, "I understand that the Sharingan is a dojutsu unique to your Clan. However, if you intend to ask for the return of the eye it must be handled diplomatically. Even though Kakashi is considered an adult under the rules and regulations of the Village, I must insist that his father be present due to his young age. It would be unwise to give even the appearance that the boy was forced to return something his teammate gifted him with."

Fugaku wished those opposed to allowing the Hatake brat to keep the Sharingan would look beyond their petty pride. Yes, they were well within their rights to demand their Clan's dojutsu back but it would be political – if not actual - suicide. The Uchiha was an old, large, and powerful Clan. He would like it to remain so. The Hatake, being reduced to a mere two members, was a Clan in name and history only. Sakumo was extremely popular among the other shinobi within the village. There was no doubt other Clans would unite behind him if the Uchiha demanded the Sharingan back from his son. As far as Fugaku was aware Sakumo didn't have any enemies among the Clans. On the other hand, the Uchiha were not on the best of terms with several other Clans and those would back Hatake simply to spite the Uchiha. Not to mention that the White Fang himself was not someone Fugaku was eager to count as an enemy. He knew of the elder Hatake's prowess on the battlefield and had no desire to see those skills turned against himself or his Clan.

There was also the circumstances surrounding Kakashi's possession of the eye to consider. Obito had been pushed to the edge of the Clan upon his parents' deaths. His mother had been an Uchiha but his father had been an outsider. Marriage outside of the Clan was highly discouraged to put it mildly. Add to that the boy's habitual tardiness and seeming lack of skill in a Clan that prided itself on producing exceptional shinobi and it had been no surprise that he was an outcast. It had been quite a shock to learn the boy had awakened the Sharingan. The dojutsu was rare, only appearing in a few members of the Clan. No one had ever thought Obito would be one of those few to possess it. Yet he had. Then he had gifted it to his best friend, knowing he was going to die. A dying wish was not something to be dismissed lightly. Especially not from a boy the entire Clan had all but shunned.

To further compound things, there was the matter of Kakashi's age. While already a jonin, he was still a twelve-year old boy. The rest of the village would not look favorably upon a Clan who would forcibly remove an eye from a child. The foolish attack on the boy had now made it all but impossible for them to even consider asking for the return of the Sharingan. Fugaku wished the idiot hadn't gotten killed by Kakashi so he could kill him himself. No one was going to believe that the attack on Kakashi was unsanctioned if the Uchiha asked for the Sharingan back now. Fugaku did not want the rest of the village believing that he would condone such an attack. It would only serve to widen the rift that already existed between his Clan and the rest of the Hidden Leaf.

"It is my understanding that Obito Uchiha fought bravely in the Third War and it was his dying wish to impart his Sharingan to Kakashi Hatake," Fugaku stated. "The Uchiha will honor his wishes." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He continued. "We do not seek any reparations for the death of our Clansman. His attack upon the Hatake boy was unsanctioned and goes against our values as a Clan. His death was a result of his own actions in attacking a jonin of the village."

Hiruzen relaxed inwardly. Fugaku was a proud man but he was not an unreasonable one. He was willing to allow Kakashi to keep his Sharingan in order to keep the peace within the village. He recognized that Kakashi had acted in self-defense when he had killed his assailant and would not pursue any further action against the boy. Hiruzen believed him when he said the Uchiha would leave Kakashi alone. The matter settled, he dismissed the clan head and returned to his never-ending mound of paperwork. He just hoped Sakumo would believe him as well.

A blood-curdling scream wrenched Sakumo from the depths of sleep. His feet hit the cold floor, the kunai he kept tucked beneath his pillow in his hand before his conscious mind realized what the sound was. Heart pounding, he threw open his bedroom door, bolting down the hall to Kakashi's room. His dark eyes swept the room, looking for danger. He had been furious to learn of the attack on his son by a member of the Uchiha. The Hokage had assured him that it had been unsanctioned and would not be repeated. He had accepted Hiruzen's word. Sakumo wasn't stupid; he knew full well that if he pursued it, the incident could ignite a civil war within the Hidden Leaf. Kakashi had been physically unharmed, so he reluctantly let the matter go. He had remained somewhat on edge, not yet entirely trusting that a similar incident wouldn't happen again. Not seeing any sign of an assailant, Sakumo's turned to his son.

Kakashi was sitting up in bed, shaking violently with his hands pressed against his face, whimpering as if in pain or terror. Sakumo turned on the bedside light as he set the kunai beside it. Kakashi was tangled in his bedding and drenched in sweat. Sakumo gripped his wrists, pulling his hands down so he could assess his injuries.

"Kakashi?" he said gently, forcing his voice to remain level and calm. He was disturbed by the sight of his son. His face was bleeding from what appeared to be self-inflicted nail gouges. Whether it had been something that had occurred while he was trapped in his nightmares or had been a conscious action remained to be seen. Kakashi's face was pale, his features slack, his expression blank though his face was streaked with blood and tears. His eyes were unfocused and he seemed completely unaware of Sakumo's presence. "Kakashi!" he repeated, more forcefully.

After several agonizingly long moments, Kakashi's gaze turned to and focused on him. "Dad?" His eyes fell to his hands, which were still gripped in Sakumo's own. Sakumo released him. "It – it hurts."

"What does?" Kakashi pressed a hand to his left eye. Sakumo frowned. "The eye?"

Kakashi nodded, sniffling.

"Let's go."

"Where?" Kakashi looked confused.

"Hospital. We're getting that eye looked at by a medic."

"But – "

"Don't argue," Sakumo growled. Kakashi snapped his mouth shut. Sakumo helped Kakashi disentangle himself from his bedding. Seeing his son's legs shaking as he stood, Sakumo scooped him up in his arms and headed for the door, ignoring the indignant sounds of protest at being carried like a child.

He's getting heavy. The thought passed through Sakumo's mind as he called up his chakra for a shunshin.

If the receptionist at the Leaf Hospital was surprised to see the White Fang show up in the middle of the night, barefoot, dressed in rumpled pajamas, his long hair unbound, with a miniature version of himself sulking in his arms, she didn't show it. She simply showed them to a room, pressed a wad of gauze against the bleeding wounds on Kakashi's face with instructions to keep pressure on it while she went to summon a medic. Within a few moments, a doctor had entered the room and was examining Kakashi's eye. Leaving another medic to clean and bandage the wounds on Kakashi's face, he motioned Sakumo out into the hallway.

"The medic who performed the transplant of the eye did a good job. It healed well."

"Then why is he in pain?" Sakumo demanded.

"If it was a more recent transplant I would say that it's most likely because he is not used to the Sharingan yet. It is not his eye so it will take his body time to adjust. Though it is my understanding that it's been several weeks since the transplant." At Sakumo's nod, he continued. "It is possible that is still the case but I suspect it is psychosomatic in nature. Kakashi said the Sharingan was given to him by a friend he was unable to save on a mission. The guilt he feels may very well be causing his distress, manifesting as physical pain."

"What do we do?"

"Unfortunately, there's not much I can do. As cliché as it sounds, time may be the only answer. Kakashi needs to come to terms with his guilt over his friend's death. If the pain continues for an extended period then I would recommend removing the eye as it is more of a hindrance to him than a help. Unless, of course, he requests that it be removed. I do want to keep him at least overnight to run some more tests and for observation, just to be safe. I am having my assistant cover the eye itself to keep him from using it for now. He'll need to rest it for a few days. Assuming everything comes back normal, he'll be free to leave in the morning."

"Alright." Sakumo was well aware that the Hidden Villages lacked any sort of decent mental health care. It seemed a critical oversight considering the things shinobi were ordered to do in service to their village. Tsunade had been pushing for better care before the Second War broke out. Then her focus had turned to including a medic on each team to increase survival. Sakumo was angry that she had essentially abandoned the Village after the Second War. He had understood her need to take some time to work through her grief but it had been years and she had not returned. The shinobi of the Hidden Leaf could use someone like her championing for them.

He returned to Kakashi's room. As he expected, his son was fidgeting on the edge of the bed. Clean dressing had been applied to where his nails had dug into his face and his left eye was covered with bandages. He hated hospitals. He looked up as Sakumo entered.

"Can we go home now?"

"Not yet. You're staying overnight."

"What? Why? I'm fine." He wasn't quite whining.

"You're not fine. You woke up screaming in pain."

"I'm fine now," Kakashi insisted.

Sakumo folded his arms across his chest and stared down his son. "You are staying until the doctors tell you that you may leave."

Kakashi started to open his mouth to argue, then shut it again before any words could escape. His father's expression clearly said that arguing would be pointless. He scowled at the polished floor as if it had personally offended him.

"I hate hospitals," he sulked.

Sakumo's expression softened. "It's just for tonight. The doctors want to run some more tests to make certain everything's okay." He was relieved. If Kakashi was complaining, he was feeling better.

"Dad?" Kakashi said a few moments later.

"Hm?"

Kakashi twisted the fabric of his pajama pants between his fingers. "Will – will you stay with me?"

"Of course."

Sakumo's heart both melted and broke at the relief on his son's face. He motioned for Kakashi to lay back. Making a disgruntled face, Kakashi obeyed, swinging his feet up onto the bed and settling back with an annoyed sigh that clearly said everyone was overreacting and he was quite fine. Sakumo pulled the blankets up over his son, tucking him in and earning a faint eye roll. That he didn't try to pull away when Sakumo ran a hand through his hair was the biggest tell that he wasn't as fine as he wanted everyone to think.

Obito was the first friend Kakashi had lost, Sakumo thought sadly, remembering the kind dark-haired boy who had broken through Kakashi's walls to befriend his son. He wouldn't be the last. Life as a shinobi was full of loss. It was a dangerous profession with an extremely high mortality rate. He dragged a chair over to Kakashi's bedside and settled himself in it.

Kakashi's fingers plucked at the blanket. "It should have been me under that boulder," he said after several minutes had ticked by. His jaw clenched. "Obito should have left me. He should have taken Rin and gotten out!"

Sakumo's heart ached. He was helpless to ease his son's guilt and pain. Loss was an in evitable part of a shinobi's life but it was never easy to watch friends and comrades die. It was even worse that Kakashi and his peers were so young.

"I doubt Obito could have left you behind any more than you would have abandoned him or Rin had things been different. You are not the only one who wants to protect his comrades, Kakashi. You can wallow in self-pity or you can live in a way that honors the sacrifice Obito made for you."

Kakashi stared at his father. Sakumo had a way of cutting right to the heart of things. Sometimes painfully. He was not going to engage in a circular argument about what Kakashi could or should have done differently or indulge in his self-pity. Learning from one's mistakes was critical but wallowing in them was dangerous. He turned his gaze to his lap.

"I miss him," Kakashi said softly. "So much. He was my first real friend."

"It's okay to mourn," Sakumo assured him.

"But the Twenty-Fifth Rule of Shinobi Conduct – "

"'A shinobi should never show tears'," Sakumo finished. "I'm well aware. The rules exist to keep order during missions when distractions can be fatal to both you and your team. You're in the village now and not on duty. You should grieve. Just don't let it consume you." Sakumo continued, seeing his son wasn't convinced. "I have mourned for many friends and comrades over the years; from those who died far away in distant lands to those whom I held in my arms when they breathed their last. There is not a day that goes by that I do not miss your mother. But you cannot let it consume you, Kakashi." He thought again of Tsunade. From what he'd heard from Jiraiya - who attempted to get news of her now and then - her grief had broken her. He wondered if Sayomi's death would have broken him similarly if Kakashi hadn't been a helpless infant who needed him.

Kakashi sat in silence for several minutes, mulling over his father's words. Emotions churned within him when he thought of Obito: guilt, grief, anger, sadness, regret, gratitude. Unable to keep them bottled up any longer, tears began slowly running down his face from his uncovered right eye. His breath hitched as he tried to choke back a sob. A moment later he felt strong arms wrap around him and hold him close. He leaned into the embrace, turning his face against his father's shoulder to muffle his sobs.

Sakumo perched on the edge of the bed as Kakashi began to cry, gathering him into his arms and rocking him as if he was once again a small child. He hummed softly, a half-remembered lullaby Sayomi had sung to Kakashi as a baby. He was relieved to see Kakashi cry. His son desperately needed to release of emotions that he had been keeping tightly bottled up. He would always remember and miss his friend but now he would be able to move forward once again.

The following morning the medical ninja cleared Kakashi to be discharged. He gave strict instructions to keep the Sharingan covered for a few days. Kakashi sulked but agreed reluctantly. He did not want to have to remove the eye. It was not only a gift but also a constant reminder of his final promise to his friend – to protect those precious to him. He couldn't give it up.

Kakashi wandered aimlessly through the village. He was supposed to take it easy for a few days. Normally he would ignore such a directive and train. For once, he listened to the medical ninja, having no desire to land back in the hospital. Or worse, have his father hovering over him. Kakashi loved his father dearly but Sakumo could be downright smothering when he was worried. He was self-aware enough to recognize that he was having trouble working through his guilt over Obito's death. Unfortunately, his father saw it, too.

Kakashi came to a sudden stop as he realized where he was. He stood right outside the Uchiha District. When had his feet decided to being him here? He turned to leave. He shouldn't be here. There were many among the Uchiha who did not like him possessing the Sharingan. The attack on him by a member of the clan just a few weeks ago was proof enough of that. His presence here could only cause trouble.

Before he realized it, he was bounding across the rooftops, leaping from one building to another. He came to a halt in front of a familiar house. He stood on the quiet street, staring up at it for a long time, lost in memories.

The front door opened and Obito's grandmother appeared in the doorway. Kakashi tensed. He hadn't meant to come here and certainly hadn't intended to stay. He wanted to turn and run but he was frozen in place. Her gaze landed on him and her eyes crinkled as she smiled.

"Why don't you come in, Kakashi," she said pleasantly. "I'll make us some tea."

"I –" What could he say? He deserved any blame she chose to lay at his feet. He dragged himself up the front steps and into the tidy home. He reluctantly removed his shoes and went into the kitchen, wordlessly helping the old woman set the tea things out on the table.

Kakashi stared morosely into his cup, unable to bring himself to meet the gaze of Obito's only remaining family. Unable to take it any longer, he carefully set the cup down. He got to his feet and circled around the table so he was beside her. He lowered himself until he was kneeling, his forehead pressed to the floor. "I'm sorry," he forced out past the tightness in his throat. "Obito saved me. He pushed me out of the way but got trapped himself. I tried but I couldn't get him out. I – "

"Kakashi," she interrupted gently. "Get up. Please."

Slowly, he pulled himself back to his feet, his eyes firmly downcast. He felt a gentle hand on his cheek. Then his headband was pushed up. He looked up, opening both eyes reflexively. Obito's grandmother smiled at him.

"You are not to blame," she said.

"But – "

She shook her head. "No, Kakashi. What happened to my grandson was tragic but it was not your fault. He would never have given you his Sharingan if he had thought you were to blame."

"He – he said he'd be my eye. To see the future with me."

"That sounds just like Obito," she agreed. "A shinobi's life is hard but there is still much good and beauty to be found. Make certain you see those. Obito will certainly help you." She brushed her fingertips lightly over his left eye." Kakashi nodded. "It is getting late and I'm certain you have better things to do than sitting around here." She walked him to the door. "You are always welcome, Kakashi. I would be pleased to see you any time and hear of what you and Obito have seen."

Kakashi managed a small but genuine smile. "I will." He pulled his headband down to cover his eye once again as he hurriedly made his way out of the Uchiha District, feeling lighter than he had in the weeks since Kannabi Bridge.

Kakashi fell to his hands and knees, breathing heavily. Pain flared behind his left eye and he clamped a shaking hand over it with a soft cry. He bit his lip hard, annoyed with himself for allowing the pained sound out to begin with. He was trying to learn how to use the Sharingan Obito had given him but was thus far finding it difficult to master. As the pain slowly faded, he removed his hand, wiping the tears that had welled up away. He noticed there was blood mixed with them as he lowered his hand. His father was going to have a fit if he saw. Sakumo was entirely too overprotective, Kakashi groused. He was a jonin now. But Dad would haul him off to the medical ninja like an errant child if he thought Kakashi was overdoing it again. Then they would tell him to rest and put a guard over him to keep him in bed and he would go mad at having to just lay there and do nothing. A tiny, annoying voice in the back of his head pointed out that his father may just be right. He silenced it with a growl of irritation. He didn't need any part of his brain agreeing that his father was right in dragging him to the hospital for any reason. He hated hospitals.

"You are overusing the Sharingan," came a rough male voice from above him.

Kakashi raised his head to see Fugaku, the head of the Uchiha Clan looking down at him. He got to his feet, hating the way that his legs shook. He felt wrung-out and drained. This always happened when he tried using the Sharingan for any length of time.

"Lord Fugaku," he said evenly, wondering what the other wanted. He had known there were many among the Uchiha who were unhappy with his possession of the Sharingan. The Hokage had told him that he would be allowed to keep the gift. He wondered if they had changed their minds and were about to demand it back. He had no idea how that would work and had even less desire to find out.

"So, you're Kakashi Hatake, the White Fang's, son," Fugaku said, studying the skinny not-quite teen in front of him. Kakashi returned his appraising gaze evenly. Fugaku hadn't expected the boy to be nervous. He was the son of one of the most powerful shinobi the world had ever seen and was an accomplished shinobi himself. Kakashi didn't disappoint. "Tell me, boy, what are you trying to accomplish here? Do you truly think you can master a dojutsu that is not your own?"

Kakashi's eyes narrowed slightly. "I will master it," he said firmly. "Obito gave me his Sharingan in order to protect the village and those within it. And that's just what I'm going to do!"

One corner of Fugaku's mouth twitched upwards slightly. The boy had spirit and determination if nothing else. He could barely stand and was clearly in pain yet he had the will to show defiance in the face of someone doubting his ability and resolve.

"You are no doubt aware that there are those within my clan who object to an outsider possessing our kekkei genkai. There are those who believe we should take it back. By force, if necessary."

"Are you?" Kakashi challenged. "Are you going to go against the wishes of one of the members of your Clan? The one who gave this eye to me? If it would bring Obito back, I would give it up in a heartbeat. But it won't. Nothing will. I wasn't able to protect him, to save him. But I can use his Sharingan to make myself stronger. So that next time I will protect my friends!" His voice shook slightly with emotion and fatigue but his mismatched eyes were clear and determined.

"I see. And in answer to your question, no, I do not intend to demand it from you. You were Obito's friend and I understand you fought bravely together during the last war." He reached out and caught Kakashi's chin with one hand, tilting the boy's face up. He wiped the blood away from beneath his left eye, holding his fingertips up in front of the other's face. "This is a warning that you are overusing it. Listen to it. Even among the Uchiha, overuse of the Sharingan eventually leads to blindness. You have the dojutsu but not the kekkei genkai itself. I have no way to predict how that will impact you. You will likely lose sight in the eye faster because of it."

Kakashi's eyes went wide. He hadn't known about that particular downside.

"Your vision is already blurry, isn't it? And your chakra is low." He waited for the boy to nod reluctantly. He released his hold on his chin. "You do not have our stamina. You should use the Sharingan cautiously and sparingly." He turned abruptly and left Kakashi standing alone on the training field, mulling over what he had just learned.