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"I'm home."
"Ah, Kakashi, welcome back," Sakumo said but there was something off about the way his father grinned at him as if he wanted to laugh. Or maybe he was just holding back an even larger smile.
Kakashi just cocked his head to the side and raised a brow as if saying, 'I know you want to say something. So just say it, or I'll find out myself.'
"So, um, you've been going out a lot. Make any new friends?"
"No."
"Oh," Sakumo's face dropped and Kakashi mentally slapped himself for not picking up on his father's emotions sooner. Of course Sakumo would want his son to make friends.
"I went to the park and played with some kids." There, that was good. Not calling them friends, but still giving his father a bit of hope that Kakashi wasn't the socially challenged child that he really was.
"What are their names?"
Obito, Rin, Gai, Asuma, Kurenai, Genma…. "I don't know, they're just some kids." Yeah, kids who were his senior by a good four years or so and at the academy while Kakashi was supposedly at the park. And Kakashi did not play with them, he dealt with them in the only way he knew how.
Beating them up.
"Tomorrow I could walk you to the park," Sakumo offered and Kakashi frowned. "I mean, if you want."
"No," Kakashi said and then added in completely serious tones for a four year old, "I'm a big boy now."
xxx
The minute Kakashi walked down the block and turned a corner down a side alley to Henge, he felt eyes on his back.
So stuffing his hands in his pocket, he walked down the alley, as if he was meant to be there and took a detour. He passed the academy at least three times, the park five times, and he even made to head back to his house a total of ten times and still he felt that lurking presence tailing him.
On the fourth pass around the academy, Kakashi saw a head of silver hair reflected in a window and immediately knew it was his father. Damn, nosey parents. To the park, it was…
Kakashi made his way into the park, and nearly sighed when his father hunkered down on one of the rooftops overlooking the field. Great, he was going to have to put on a show for the man and- and play…
Kakashi approached the child he remembered talking to before infiltrating the academy. The boy, Iruka, if he remembered correctly, was squatting near the edge of the sand box, stick in hand with his nose scrunched up and tongue sticking out in a thinking pose.
Kakashi cocked his head to the side, looking at the sand then back to Iruka. If the boy was trying to draw in the sand he was doing a horrible job at it. He couldn't even make out the lines from the usual hills that footprints caused, but Iruka looked at it as if it were a masterpiece.
"What are you doing?" Kakashi asked, growing bored of staring at dirt.
Iruka jumped, not having sensed his presence and pointed dramatically. "It's you!"
"Yo," Kakashi waved.
Iruka glared.
Kakashi stared.
Iruka blinked, glancing at his art work then back to Kakashi. "Wanna draw?" He offered up the stick.
Kakashi squatted at the edge of sand box, silently inviting Iruka to do the same. "I can't even make out what you've been drawing," he said, completely honest.
"Whaddaya mean?" Iruka gasped. "Look, that's a dragon," he pointed to one lump of sand. "That's the castle with the princess," he pointed again before moving his stick to shallow hole, "and that's me!"
Kakashi glared at the sand, willing it to form some sort of pattern or something but it didn't. "Your drawing sucks."
"What!? No it doesn't! Yours sucks!"
"You don't even know what my drawing looks like," Kakashi pointed out.
"Well, show me!"
"Hmm." Kakashi looked around, he knew what the problem was. Dry sand was always hard to draw in unless it was flat and even then it would be difficult to make things out. But if it were wet… Kakashi got up heading to the water hose.
"Hey, what are you-" SPLASH- "Ack! Baka! Stop!"
"No. Move. You're in the way," Kakashi tugged at the hose a bit more but it wouldn't reach the edge of the box. He continued shooting the water toward the box and thankfully Iruka darted out of the way. He looked crestfallen when his drawing his washed away and taking that as a sign, Kakashi dropped the hose, not even bothering to turn it off, and approached the box to see his work.
Kakashi nodded at the flat sand. "Now watch," he snatched the stick from the other boy's grasp. "This is how you draw in sand." He drew squiggly lines and straight lines, the stick easily cutting through the sand with each stroke and before he knew it he had a passable image of Pakkun. "There."
"That's not fair," Iruka pouted. "My drawing would have been better if the sand was wet!"
"Pft, sure."
"Baka!"
"Oi! My name's Kakashi!"
"Like a scarecrow?" Iruka asked, shooting Kakashi a smug look as if that was the worst name he ever heard. "Well, it's my turn now." He took a step back and before Kakashi could even move out of the way, Iruka shot the water hose at his fellow four year old.
xxx
That day, Kakashi got back home, cold, wet and dirty.
"Eh, Kakashi what happened?"
"Don't even ask," Kakashi shot his father a dirty glare. This was all his fault! If Sakumo hadn't been following Kakashi to begin with, Kakashi could have been clean and warm… and bored, because school was boring, but still clean and not reduced to his current state. "I need a shower."
Clones. He needed solid clones.
