Fade to Black
Summary: Torn between two lives, broken by the choices he has to make. Will Hatake Kakashi live to see the next day or will he fade into obscurity. :: A story of love, loss, pain, and happiness; the childhood of the great Copy Nin Kakashi.
Genre: Drama/Angst
Rating: T
Disclaimer: We all know I don't own Naruto.
Author's Notes: I'm purposely writing this story in fragmented sentences because I believe that most kids, no matter how smart they are, process thoughts in fragmented sentences. But that's just my opinion.
I am not an expert in medicine or diseases or anything like that. So please excuse any medical mistakes.
IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please, please, PLEASE, be aware that this story contains child abuse. You have been warned.
Please R&R…Thanks!
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I freeze, arm in mid throw.
"Kakashi," my Uncle says from behind me, I can smell the alcohol on him.
I watch the path of my kunai as I finish my throw and it flies through the air; dead center. I was enjoying the peace and quiet of being alone for the first time in over two months.
"Is father back?" I tentatively ask, trying not to get my hopes up.
"No," Moro replies.
"Then why can't you leave me alone for once," I mutter under my breath.
"Because it's time for you to come home. I'm bored and you have to entertain me."
I know that tone of voice, I know what it means. I don't understand why Uncle Moro is like this, I don't get why he's so mean. Mother was so nice, mother was so caring. Why is her brother like this?
"You house isn't home," I spit out.
Another one of my kunais hits the center mark, knocking the other one to the ground.
"Kakashi," his voice is getting angrier, "You know you've brought this upon yourself, don't try to deny it. Killing your mother; almost killing Arashi. If you only stopped screwing up then I wouldn't have to punish you."
My arm stops mid throw and drops to my side.
"If you hadn't snuck out tonight then I wouldn't have to punish you like I'm going to," he continues, "If there's anyone to blame it's yourself, and you know it."
I'm sure that if I turned around then I would see that anticipating glint in his eyes. That hunger for what he wants so bad, that hunger to see me in pain.
Mother was so nice, how could her brother be so mean?
Maybe mother wasn't so nice, maybe she really was like Moro. Maybe she hurt Senji like Moro hurts me. Maybe that's the real reason why Senji moved away when he was so young.
No! She couldn't be like Moro! I won't believe it! She was so nice. She loved me, she loved Senji. Wait…if she loved me then why did she leave? Why did she abandon me?
Because I drove her away, I disappointed her. She left because she hates me. It was my fault. She left because of me. If that was my fault then all of this, everything, must be my fault too. Moro must be right.
It really is my fault. No matter how I twist it it still ends up as my fault.
His hand grabs my arm, snaps me out of my thoughts. The training field spins into blackness and the living room of Moro's house spins into view.
Immediately his knee slams into my lower back. I gasp as I collapse to my knees, the kunai that was still in my hand slips from my grasp and lands loudly on the wooden floor. His hand grabs a hold of the back of my neck and pushes me down, his knee still grinding into my back.
The left side of my face lies on the cold, hardwood floor. I reflexively blink as a small sword drives into the wood right in front of my nose. I watch as the dull light from the streetlamps outside filters through the window and reflects off the sword. I wonder what time it is. Two in the morning? Perhaps three? I'm not to sure. But what I am sure of is that I'm condemned to a night of this, a night of torture. I just want daddy to come save me. Is that so much to ask?
A kunai presses against my neck. I squeeze my eyes shut as he runs his hands down my back and grabs a hold of my pants.
My eyes snap open as someone knocks on the door.
"ANBU Lion," a female voice states, "Open the door."
Moro removes the kunai from my neck and yanks the small sword out of the floor.
"Get up," he growls in nervous anger as he stands up.
I roll over and push myself up into a sitting position. I wipe the unshed tears from my eyes and watch as Moro staggers over to the door, pulling his pants up along the way.
"Moro, you have five seconds," the ANBU orders,
He twists around to look at me, "Get up," he repeats in that same low growl, "Go to the kitchen."
I push myself up but I don't bother to move to the kitchen. What's the point? ANBUs only come to people's houses if something's gone wrong. I have a gut feeling that something's happened to my father, something really bad.
Moro opens the door and there stands a woman. Curly brown hair tied back in a low pony and a dog sitting behind her. The light from the streetlamps reflects off her clothes and highlights the splatters of blood that have soaked into them. Like all ANBUs her face is covered by a mask; this one resembles a lion.
"What happened to my father?" I ask, not waiting for her to speak.
Uncle Moro steps to the side, allowing the ANBU and I to fully see each other.
"I've been ordered to retrieve you," she states, holding out a scroll.
I walk forward and take the scroll in my own hands, still shaking in fear from earlier. I slowly open the scroll and read what it says. It says the same things the ANBU told me, only filled with many more bigger and unnecessary words. The signature at the bottom tells me this order is true.
I roll the scroll back up and return it to the ANBU. She holds out her arm and I lightly take a hold of it. I watch as her hands move at incredible speed; performing the familiar seals that I know will transport us to wherever she is meant to take me.
My vision becomes black and the sight of Sandaime's office comes into view.
"ANBU Lion," the female states as I let go of her arm, "Reporting. Retrieval mission completed."
Sandaime turns his head to face us, putting his conversation with Arashi on hold.
"Dismissed," Sandaime replies with a wave of his hand.
She disappears and I just stand there, waiting for someone to tell me something, anything at all.
My eyes go wide as I spot a man standing at the back of the room. His hands shoved in his pockets and his head downcast. I can't see his face but I can still recognize him by his long silver hair. The hair that looks so much like mine.
"Daddy?" I whimper.
Does this mean I can go home again? That I don't have to stay with Uncle Moro anymore? Oh God I hope so. I want to get away from him. I want to forget him. I want to never ever see him again.
"Kakashi," Arashi greets me with a smile and I turn to face him.
He's bloody. So very, very bloody. I look back at my father. The shadows hide the blood on him, but it's still there if I look close enough.
"What's going on," I whisper, "Can I go home?"
Arashi's smile fades slightly. That's never a good sign.
"Unfortunately," Arashi begins, "You won't be able to go home for a couple more days."
"Why?" my voice rises with anger, "Daddy's right here! Why can't I go home?"
"Kakashi," Sandaime's caring voice cuts in, "Your father is going to be very busy for the next few days."
"Then why did you bring me here…" sobs begin to choke my voice, replacing my recent anger, "just to send me back to him?
Sarutobi and Arashi share a quizzical look but I don't really care.
"Is there something wrong?" Arashi's soft voice asks.
"No!" I scream but my sobs betray me, "I can't tell you…I said…I promised…he'll punish me if…I can't tell…I promised…"
"Kakashi," Arashi interrupts my muttering, now kneeling in front of me, "It's okay, you can tell us what's wrong. Whoever it is who's bothering you can't hurt you, we'll protect you."
"It's…it's been years…didn't' protect me before…why…why would you now?" tears flow unwillingly from my eyes.
"Son," my father's voice reaches my ears as he now kneels beside Arashi, "What's wrong?"
I shake my head, "I can't…I can't…can't…can't…can't…"
"Kakashi, please. Do you not trust use? Do you not trust me, your own father?"
I look into father's eyes. There's something about them that's different from before. Some deep sadness. Or maybe that's shame, I'm not too sure though. It could even be guilt. Or maybe it's all of them mixed together; or none at all.
"Son?" father questions again, concern colouring his voice.
I can't tell him. Dad looks so sad already, so buried in his own despair. I can't give him my pain to deal with. Besides, it happened by my own choice. If I had only made fewer mistakes and been more of the perfect son that daddy wanted; then Uncle Moro wouldn't have had to punish me. It's my fault; I need to deal with it, alone. Father would be disappointed if I told him that I had to be punished and that I couldn't even protect myself.
"Kakashi?" Arashi questions.
I shake my head, dropping my gaze to the floor.
"I…I don't want…can't tell you…don't want to make you sad…don't want to…to hurt or…or disappoint…" I choke out between my hiccups and sobs.
My father reaches forward and hugs me, his strong arms swallowing me in their grasp. I stand still, frozen in my spot, tears spilling down my face.
I don't deserve his love.
Doesn't he understand what I've done? Doesn't he get the fact that I killed mother? Doesn't he understand that I don't deserve this love, that this hurts me? Doesn't he understand that this just makes me feel guiltier?
I miss him, I miss his love. But whenever I get his love I feel guilty, ashamed, undeserving.
"Son, please," my father pleads into my ear, "What's wrong?"
"He's scary dad," I whimper, knowing they can barely hear my voice, hoping that they don't hear, "He…he…daddy please…don't make me go back there…please daddy…don't…please…"
Father pulls away from me and holds my shoulders at arm's length.
"Who, Kakashi? Who's scary?" father asks, his eyes and voice full of concern.
I just shake my head again, "I promised…daddy…please understand…I promised not to tell…just…just don't make…don't make me go back…please…I promise to be good…I just want to go home with you…you don't hurt me…please daddy…please…"
"Is it Uncle Moro?" he tentatively asks.
I can hear the fear in his voice, the silent prayer that it's not mom's brother. I can't tell him, I can't ruin our family anymore. I just can't.
"Kakashi?" my father questions.
"NO!" I snap.
Sobs come with new force, choking off my breath, making it impossible to talk. I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to stop the torrent of tears and block out the painful memories.
Strong arms wrap around my tiny, shaking form and uncontrollable sobs rack my body. I bury my head in daddy's shoulder and wrap my arms around his neck, desperately clinging on to the one person I can trust.
"I'm sorry," I whimper, "I should've stopped him. I should've protected myself like I've been training to."
"It's okay," father soothes, "It wasn't your fault. He can't hurt you anymore. I'll protect you."
"He touched me daddy," I mutter quietly, burying my head further into his shoulder, "It…it hurt daddy…hurt so much…"
I can feel the anger growing in daddy. It's scary. Really, really scary.
"What do you mean?" my father growls.
Is he angry at me? He must be. I disappointed him. I wasn't strong enough. Maybe this was a test, maybe he knew all along.
I failed the test.
"Son?" my father asks, his voice losing some of its angry edge.
"He touched me," I repeat, "Where…where you and mommy always…always said that…that…that…" a new wave of sobs cuts off my words.
My father stiffens. I can feel his anger growing, his chakra getting stronger. It's suffocating, it weighs down the air, makes it hard to breath.
"Please daddy," I beg, "I'm sorry…please…please don't be angry…please…"
"Sakumo," Arashi's commanding voice interrupts my babbling.
"That bastard," my father spits out, pulling away from me, "That fucking bastard! How could he? HOW?"
My arms drop limply to my side as I watch father stand up. There's so much anger in his eyes. It's terrifying. I don't like father when he's like this. He's not the same person; he's not my dad when he's like this.
"Sakumo!" Arashi repeats in that same strong and commanding voice, "Control yourself! You can't afford to do anything stupid! Not after this last mission!"
What happened? What happened in the last mission? Did something bad happen? Why won't anyone tell me anything? Did daddy do something wrong?
"I'm going to kill him," father growls, "I trusted him. I'm going to kill that bastard."
"Sakumo!" I faintly hear Sarutobi yell.
I watch helplessly as father makes a series of seals with his hands and then disappears. A few seconds later both Arashi and Sarutobi make the same seals and disappear in the same way.
"Daddy?" I whimper, collapsing to my knees and catching myself with my hands, "Daddy?"
They left me. Abandoned me. Left me all alone. Daddy doesn't want me. He hates me for breaking our family apart again. He thinks I'm weak. I couldn't protect myself and he hates me for it. He's going to leave me alone. He's going to make me live with Uncle Moro again. He's going to punish me
I'd rather be alone then live with Moro again.
Maybe I should run away. Go live by myself in another village. Away from everyone's accusing eyes. Away to a place where no one knows who I am, where no one knows of the Hatakes. A place where I don't have any expectations to live up to. With no expectations I won't fail anyone.
I stand up and wipe my tears away. There's no need to cry anymore. I've made up my mind. I'm leaving so I won't hurt anyone ever again.
I think hard, trying to remember my academy days. I slowly perform a few seals. I haven't done this since my chakra got sealed and I can only hope that I'll still be able to do it.
The room spins into a black void and then my vision clears to reveal a training field near the outskirts of Konoha.
I sigh in relief. I can still do it, even with my chakra sealed.
I jump into the trees of the surrounding forest and run from branch to branch, away from the village. How long can I run now? How much stamina have I really lost? I guess I'll find out now.
I pass over the small stone wall that marks the border of Konoha. How long have I been running now? I haven't been paying attention to the passage of time. My lungs are starting to burn.
I forgot my medication.
I jump up the branches of one particularly tall tree. I know that since I'm still small the top part of the tree, the weakest part, will still be able to bear my weight. I near the top and I have to slow down and start climbing more carefully, picking and choosing the strongest branches to hold my weight.
I stop about ten of fifteen feet from the top; the tree isn't strong enough to hold my weight further up. I stand on a branch; my hand rests on the tree's trunk to steady myself.
Slowly, careful to keep my balance, I turn around to face Konoha. The sun's rising. Its rays cast a variety of beautiful colours over the village; reds, yellows, oranges, even a few streaks of blues and purples.
It's an amazing sight that strikes a feeling of loneliness through me; almost as if I was punched in the stomach. I almost fall from the overwhelming emotions but I manage to catch myself at the last second.
This is it. I'm running away from the only place I've ever known, the only life I understand. I'm a missing-nin now; condemned to a life of solitude and loneliness.
I'm an idiot. I'm seven years old with a sever heart condition and I've run away without my medication. I'm alone and I'm going to die alone.
I'm a lonely idiot.
I should go back, I know I should but I can't. Everyone hates me; everyone knows who I am and what I've done. I can't bear to look into anyone's accusing eyes anymore. I just can't.
I close my eyes, letting the cool breeze tousle my hair and caress my face. I reach up and pull up my mask. I'm alone now. I have to be a strong shinobi if I want to stay alive; if I want to survive. A few tears manage to escape my closed eyes but the wind quickly wipes them away for me.
I turn around, turning my back to Konoha, my past, my friends, and even what remains of my family. I drop down the tree, branch by branch, until I land on the hard ground.
My stomach growls. When was the last time I ate? Dinner? No, I didn't have dinner. I didn't have lunch either. So breakfast was my last meal. About twenty-four hours ago.
So now I'm a lonely and hungry idiot.
"Great, just what I've always wanted to be," I sarcastically mutter to myself.
Slowly I walk through the forest floor, picking a path through the foliage. I don't pay attention to the time. It doesn't really matter. I'm just as alone now as I was two hours ago, or two minutes ago, or even two seconds ago.
A hand covers my mouth and an arm wraps around my abdomen. Someone's trapped me from behind. My eyes widen in panic. How did I not notice them? Why wasn't I paying attention like I should've been?
"This silver hair, this black mask. I'll be damned Masako but this is definitely the White Fang's son," the man finishes with a laugh.
Two other people walk into my line of vision. Two men, one with short brown hair and one with long black hair.
"I wonder if he gives good sport, eh?" the one with brown hair chuckles.
"He's just a kid," the black-haired one states, he sounds a little more concerned, a little more afraid, "Why is he out here all alone?"
"Good point," the one behind me says, fear now in his voice, "This is probably a trap."
I can't panic; I have to be strong if I want to survive. I have to remember my training. I know I have an advantage; I'm seven so they won't think I'm a threat.
Quickly, with speed I didn't know I had, I reach my right arm back and grab a kunai out of the holster on my capture's leg and proceed to jab it into his thigh. I wish I was taller and could reach higher.
I faintly hear him swear but I don't stick around. I rip the kunai out of his leg; I know I can't lose my only weapon. I turn around to face the one that captured me before so that I only have to dodge one person, and I bolt. I run as fast as I can, passing the man who held me captive.
It doesn't make a difference, the other two are quickly in front of me and I have to stop. I can hear my laboured breathing as I stand there, all three of them slowly closing in on me. I've lost my advantage of surprise and now they have the advantage of experience.
I duck as a sword cuts through the air where I once stood. It comes from behind me, from my former captor. My hand shoots up and wraps around the blade of the sword, stopping its movement but cutting deep into my skin. I wince as I pull hard on the sword, ripping it from his hands but also tearing my own skin. With the sword now in my control I spin around to face his shocked eyes. I take the kunai and throw it with the deadly accuracy of years of training.
I watch as it imbeds itself in his neck and he falls to his knees, gasping for air he can't get. Shocked eyes stare wide-eyed at me as blood sprays from his neck, splattering on my face and clothes.
I killed him.
The sword slides from my gasp. I know the other two are still here. I know I shouldn't have turned my back on them and left myself unprotected. A small part of my brain is screaming at me to keep moving, to protect myself, to at least pay attention to my surroundings. But I can't. I killed him. I actually killed another person. Ended a life. His blood on my hands.
Something's happening behind me but I don't pay attention. I can barely hear the sounds of fighting above the rushing of blood in my ears.
I just stare at his limp body. He's laying face down now, blood collecting in a pool under his neck and head. He will never move again; never breathe, never think, never feel. I just murdered someone's son, someone's friend. Perhaps a brother, or maybe even someone's dad. Maybe he's a father, or I guess he was a father, and I just killed him. Left his child all alone like I've been left alone.
What kind of monster am I?
"Kakashi!" a strangely familiar voice shouts.
I should pay attention to that voice. I think he's trying to help me but I don't deserve to be helped. I'm a murderer. A lonely, hungry, idiotic murderer.
"Kakashi!" that same voice shouts again.
It's closer now, harder to ignore, harder to block out.
"Kakashi!" he shouts again.
I blink, "Ji-san?" I whimper; I haven't called Jiraiya 'Ji-san' in years.
He's kneeling in front of me, "Ka…"
"I'm sorry!" I blurt out, tears escaping form my eyes, "I didn't…I didn't mean…I didn't want to…it…it was…an accident…not die…I didn't want…I'm so sorry…please…I…I did…"
"It's okay Kakashi," Jiraiya interrupts my babbling, "It's okay."
He takes me in a hug and I sob into his chest. I can smell the blood of the man I killed on me.
"I shouldn't have…I didn't mean to get in trouble…I shouldn't have run away….I should've been good…I should've stayed…please…I didn't mean to hurt anyone," I mutter between my choking sobs, "I'm sorry."
"Shh…It's okay Kakashi," Jiraiya soothes, "You're not in trouble."
"He hates me," I mumble into the Sannin's chest, "He hates me. I couldn't protect myself. I couldn't be strong. He hates me for it. He hates me for tearing apart our family again. I couldn't stop Uncle Moro and he hates me for it," my sobs come with new force, "Daddy hates me. He left me all alone. They all left me alone. They all hate me."
"Kakashi," Jiraiya's caring voice whispers into my ear, "No one hates you. Your dad is concerned and worried about you. He's trying to help you; he's trying to protect you."
"He left me all alone," I choke out, "Even Sandaime and Arashi-sensei left me all alone. They all hate me."
"Kakashi," Jiraiya frustratingly whispers, "That isn't true. They love you, they care for you."
I push myself away from him, furiously shaking my head.
"Don't lie!" I angrily scream, "I can see the anger, the hate in their eyes! In the way they talk to me! In the way they act around me! I'm not blind! I'm not an idiot!"
I just start punching his chest and I don't know why and I can't stop myself, "They hate me…why do they hate me? I try to be good…I'm sorry…so sorry…I'm sorry…please…please….I'm sorry," I blabber on and on, tears streaming down my face.
Jiraiya makes no attempt to stop me, no effort to control my hysterics. Eventually I grow tired and stop, leaning against his chest and sobbing. He hugs me tightly.
"I'm so sorry," I whimper, "Please…I'm so sorry."
"There's nothing to apologize for Kakashi," Jiraiya soothes, "You've done nothing wrong. You never did anything wrong."
"I'm sorry I'm not perfect," I mutter into his chest.
The sobs finally stop, my tears finally spent.
"Everyone's perfect," Jiraiya comforts me, "in their own way, faults and all."
He picks me up as he stands up. I snuggle into his warm body and bury my head into his chest. He starts to run, run back to the village I suppose. I don't really care anymore. I'm too tired to care, to exhausting to pay attention.
I close my eyes and let the relaxing comfort of sleep creep up on me and steal me from the waking world.