(A/N: So I originally wanted to make another chapter for Always Watching, but this idea came to me two days ago and I can't stop thinking about it, so! I'm proud to present the first chapter of Of Shards and Blood! Not sure how I feel about the name, eheh, buuuuut it works for now. Also, this story takes place before Pain's attack, meaning Kakashi didn't die and talk to Sakumo yet. So I'd say he was around 28-29 before he was flung back in time.)
The moment Kakashi's eyes fluttered open, he had a feeling that something was wrong. But he didn't just feel it, he could see that something was wrong too; his bed also seemed bigger. Or maybe he was smaller?
He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He pulled his hands away and blinked. Kakashi was sure he didn't have hands this small. Hesitantly, he pulled the warm blanket off his body. His limbs appeared to be plenty shorter than they originally were. Yup, something was definitely wrong.
The first thing Kakashi wanted to do was figure out exactly where he was.
He got out of bed and peered around the room. There were decorations here and there, some small knickknacks placed on a shelf and on a desk. The rest of the room was bare, but it all seemed so familliar. Kakashi looked out the window, and saw that it was still dark outside. A night stand stood closely to the bed with a lamp on it.
Frowning, Kakashi reached his hand out to switch on the light. A picture frame that was too dark to see before was now exposed. Curiously, he reached for it. His (now) small hands clenched around it tightly as he recognized the two people in it.
Both had white hair, pale skin, and dark eyes. One sported a mask while the other had a ponytail. They were both smiling brightly. The younger boy's eyes were closed while the older man rested a hand on his shoulder.
Kakashi dropped the picture frame and watched as the glass shattered into a million small shards. It poked and stabbed his feet, and small drops of blood were now visible. Kakashi didn't care, though. Someone assumed it'd be fun to mess with him. And they'd pay for it.
His hands moved up into the appropriate hand sign and he muttered a quiet "kai". It was only appropriate for Kakashi to assume it was a genjutsu. What else would it be? He hasn't been a child for nearly thirty years, and his father had been dead for just as long.
However, when nothing happened or changed, when he was still standing in his childhood bedroom, when he was still standing in a kid's body, his breath stopped for a moment.
Time travel?
Kakashi dropped his hands to sides of his body and thought about what he had done the previous day, the day where everything had been normal and fine. Nothing of importance had happened; he remembered going to bed tired, only to wake up here. Nothing could have triggered some sort of time travel.
His train of thoughts was broken by the fast sound of someone's footsteps nearing his room. Kakashi heard the creaking his door being opened and immediately, his breath hitched.
Kakashi stood facing away from the door, He continued staring at the floor, unable to look the other way.
"Kakashi? What are you doing?"
Sakumo's voice was deep and soothing, but was also laced with concern. His gaze dropped down to the ground beneath Kakashi that was sprinkled with glass and smeared with blood.
Immediately, he rushed over to his son. "Here, Kakashi, move away from the glass, I'll clean this up. Are you okay? What were you doing?"
Kakashi swallowed and did as told, opting to sit on the edge of the bed. "I..." His gaze was set strongly on the white-haired man in front of him. His face adopted a worried expression. Kakashi only looked away.
"...Kakashi?"
"I-it was an accident."
Sakumo sighed and put up a soft smile on his face. "I'm not saying it was your fault. Let's clean up your cuts, they don't look too good."
Kakashi sheepishly nodded. He glanced over at his feet and ankles, which gently dripped a thick, crimson liquid. He sighed and buried his face in his hands when Sakumo left the room. Kakashi didn't know how to feel. What was someone supposed to do when they see their dead parent, alive and healthy? He supposed the only thing he could do for now was act normal. Or as normal as possible.
One of his hands trailed over to his left eye. He hadn't taken note before of it, too occupied on trying to figure what the hell happened to him. As suspected, it felt normal, there was no strain on his chakra.
It was a strange feeling. Kakashi let his fingers linger over the eye. The smallest part of him mourned the loss of his Sharingan but Kakashi pushed that feeling away. The Sharingan shouldn't have been in his posession, anyways. It should have been in Obito, who should have been alive, not crushed under a boulder—
Kakashi grimaced. He never liked to think about that. On the brighter side, Kakashi thought, I have a chance to save Obito. And Rin. And Minato-sensei, and—
His eyes moved over to his father, who was only now re-entering the room with gauze, cotton balls and rubbing alcohol. Kakashi's lips perked up in the smallest of smiles.
Tentatively, Sakumo motioned for Kakashi to raise his legs onto the bed.
Silence washed over them. It was a comfortable one, and Kakashi was glad, he definitely did not want to talk. He instead watched Sakumo carefully pick out the glass shards dug into Kakashi's pale skin.
The last of the blood was wiped away, and Kakashi's feet and ankles were wrapped tight with bandages. Warily, Sakumo glanced at the mess mear the nightstand. He could clean it up in the morning. It was the middle of the night—he was tired, and he was sure Kakashi was too.
He stood up to leave now before Kakashi gently reached for his hand to stop. He looked curiously at the small boy before him. "Can I—"
Kakashi hesitated before he continued. "Can I sleep in your room tonight?"
Sakumo paused. Kakashi had always been independent, opting to do things on his own. He wasn't that affectionate or playful like other children his age. It was easy to forget he barely turned five.
The older man smiled and switched off the lamp. "Let's go, kid."
Kakashi's eyes lit up and he quickly padded after his father. As they entered his room, Kakashi's eyes glued to a spot on the floor.
The younger boy remembered the night vividly. He had been looking for his dad that day. He stepped into the room, only to be greeted by the site of his father, curled up on the floor in a pool of his own blood.
Kakashi shuddered and pushed away the thought. No, he wouldn't think about. He had the perfect opportunity thrown at him. Here was his father, alive and breathing. He could save him.
He beamed a little as he climbed onto the bed, He snuck under the covers and hesitantly crawled closer to Sakumo, who was already in bed. Kakashi's head rested next to his father's chest, moving to get even closer. The older man placed a hand on Kakashi's back, gently stroking it. Kakashi listened to Sakumo's steady breathing and eventually, he closed his eyes.
Kakashi woke up to sunlight peeking in through the slightly open curtains. It poured onto his face and he squinted. The sky was still a little dull—it was early in the morning. Kakashi turned his head; the space beside him was empty. The blanket was neatly made and the pillow was fluffed out and propped up against the wooden bed frame. Kakashi sat up and sniffed the air, running a hand through his messy hair. The fresh smell of food lingered in the air and Kakashi's stomach let out a low growl. He peeled the blanket off and set his feet on the cold wood.
His feet stung from the harsh pressure on it; last night's events slowly came back to him. Today, he had a lot to do. But he couldn't do any of that with an empty stomach.
Kakashi left the room and wandered down the hallway. Everything looked so pristine and clean; nothing was dirty or broken down. Kakashi had only visited the Hatake compound a handful of times after Sakumo's death. Each time he came back, the place looked more and more worse.
He walked into the kitchen and saw his father standing before the counter with a steaming cup of tea in his hand. He idly stood watching the window before he took note of Kakashi's presence and turned his head.
"Ah, Kakashi. Did you sleep good?"
Kakashi only nodded before his eyes landed on the plate of food that sat on the dining table.
"I thought I'd make something a little more special. A letter came in for you," Sakumo spoke, sipping at his tea. He gestured for Kakashi to sit and eat, following closely behind him. As Kakashi took a seat, his father slid an envelope over to him. Kakashi curiously looked at it.
"The academy?"
"Yup. Your first day will be in a month."
Kakashi paused and his eyes lingered over the white sheet before him. In his own timeline, Kakashi had graduated in only a year. He never got to know his peers that well, and his father's death had left him bitter and unwilling to interact or make friendships with anyone. That alone set an unsteady foundation in place for Team Minato. Perhaps getting closer to his future teammates could help prevent certain... events. That way, Kakashi could also help them train—and train hard. They'd be ready for anything thrown in their way.
But another issue was Sakumo's mission. That mission sent Kakashi in a downward spiral before. He'd have to think about how to prevent that. The thought made his heart clench. Still, he had a little less then 2 years to prepare for it. But that didn't seem like nearly enough time.
"You'll do great; I wouldn't be surprised if you graduated early." Sakumo nudged the plate food toward Kakashi. "Here, eat."
Kakashi stared at the letter a little more before he did as told, gingerly pulling down his mask to eat. He couldn't remember how his father's food tasted, but he remembered being fond of it—and he could see why. The food tasted heavenly.
In a only a matter of minutes, the food was gone and the plate was practically licked clean. Sakumo chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Kakashi's hair. "Well, someone was certainly hungry."
Kakashi's cheeks were blushed with the lightest of pink. "I guess."
Sakumo stood up now, his cup now empty. "Here, bring your dishes over to the sink."
Kakashi nodded and stood up as well. As he grabbed his plate, he only now took account of how short he was. Before, when he was an actual adult, he was proud to be among one of the tallest jounin in Konoha. But he didn't grow that tall for awhile. Everything seemed to tower over him.
That thought led Kakashi to another. He was stuck in his five year old body. Though he had the skills from his adult years, he doubted that his body could handle it; it most likely had many limitations to what Kakashi could do.
At least for now.
But that gave Kakashi something to do today. As he set the dirty dish down in the sink, he wandered back to his room. The floor was cleaned up, spotless of shards and blood. Kakashi stepped forward to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer, curious as to what it stored.
It held a black notebook, extra kunai, some more photos, and other miscellaneous items. Kakashi stared at the photos before reaching for the notebook. He flickered through the pages and found they were all bare and empty, sans for one page at the front, which had a short to-do list written on it. Kakashi tore that page out and turned to rummage around in his desk for a spare pencil. He replaced the old to-do list with a more crucial one.
Carefully, Kakashi wrote down a list of things that needed to be changed, and a list of things he needed to prevent.
He really wanted to spend time with his father. He was never that close to him before; Kakashi was definitely going to change that.
Kakashi shook his head and closed the notebook, slipping it under his pillow. He could talk to Sakumo another time.
He had one place in mind that he needed to go to.
(A/N: And tada! Chapter 1 is done. What do you guys think? If I'm being honest, I'm quite proud of how it came out. Next chapter, more characters will be introduced.
Take care now. Toodles!)