What is this teenage rebellion?— Stop hating yourself.
They sat at the breakfast table, bowls of soup laid out before them; Kushina and Minato on one side, and Kakashi on the other. Minato lapped absent-mindedly at the soup, suddenly realising Kakashi's obvious attempts at eye-averting—with that one eye of his. He thought back to the glimpse of face the ANBU was so intent on covering.
"Sorry, Kakashi…heh, you look so different now. I mean—I haven't…actually seen your face since…since you were a child." He said, admittedly. He frowned. That sounded terrible out loud. Kushina pinched his thigh, and Minato buckled, kicking the table slightly.
"Hnn…Kakashi? Please eat? It's fine."
"It's strictly against code."
Except he'd been breaking code all morning; from the moment he decided bleeding out a little was preferable to going to the hospital. Did he really care about the damned code? Not since he had two matching eyes. But his shame held him back.
At this, Kushina slurped her bowl clean, loudly. "Kakashi, where are you right now?"
"I…ano…Minato-sensei and Kushina-dono's..home?"
"Yeah?! Fancy that—NOT inside some dark lair where the higher ups' keep their super soldiers!"
"Kushina—" Minato quelled.
He had tossed aside his jacket and forehead protector; trying to ease the knife-sharp intensity in the room with a feigned air of casual-ness. After the morning's run, Minato felt somehow foreign in his own home: like he'd just waltzed in uninvited into a stranger's idyllic lunch. His brow creased, consternation falling on his features. He'd just caught the trace of a smile on Kakashi's face, heard laughter from round the corner.
He wanted to smile. One morning with Kushina would do that to you. But he could only frown. This news was more surprising than the multiple lacerations that bought Kakashi here. The moment Minato lumbered in, Kakashi withdrew, going so far as to retract all his chakra and conceal all those pesky emotions he let loose. The cheeriness in his aura dissipated as sudden as a flame being blown out. So we're back to this. Minato blew out the flame, and it was driving Kushina crazy.
"Just, Kakashi, I suppose the ANBU are a little more serious, but literally no one takes the code as life or death."
"Not since you were born." He heard Kushina utter quietly.
"Er, You don't see me speaking exclusively in sign or, or cutting my hair or wearing a ma-aaaaask" He finished, flinching at his mistake. "But that's besides the point. That stuff was written over a century ago."
The boy from before was miles within himself. Kushina rolled her eyes, and set them on Kakashi. "Kakashi-kun, you're here- now. You're under our roof, under our rules, you know. Now, eat your food?"
Minato slurped on his soup, eyes peeking up at Kakashi—giving him an 'I'll-do-as-she-says' look from above the bowl.
"Hai, Kushina-dono."
The tremor in his hands looked as if it had subsided, but the tell-tale signs of the shaking ends of fabric said otherwise. Kakashi tentatively took off the make-shift mask again, and busied himself with a few slurps of food.
Kushina eyed the both of them sternly, eyes contemplating what to do. What to say. The lacklustre spirit that had taken ahold of her and the bloody young man, had vanished, and she wanted to blame Minato—Minato and his lack of foresight to knock and use the front door. But she knew that wasn't it. There was a tension between the two, and Minato moved in that carefully suppressed grace that screamed of don't screw up, don't screw it for yourself- lest you want a wooden log in your kitchen and your student's—ex-student's—next visit to be at your funeral.
She clasped onto the bowl until her knuckles went white. She knew, basically, from Minato's flinching awake in their sleep to cry about war; the war that spat out the famous and infamous Yellow Flash, Sharingan-no-Kakashi; and provided two less to eat tomato soup and burnt rice. Once, there were three children at this table, and now there were none. Minato muttered their names in his birthday prayers each year, so she did too; imagining one without an eye, and one without a heart.
Kushina pressed her hand into Minato's back and rose from the table. After all this time, after all those voices that slurred his name with a contempt—little ol' Sharingan-no-kakashi, of course the traitor's boy has stolen powers—there was a fear amassed in the ever-growing whisper of Copy-nin Kakashi. And he called her Kushina-'dono.'
Had he fallen from grace, or risen to it? She couldn't tell. The younger ninja, and the even younger ninja, regarded his name like folklore as they did Minato's as legend. But Copy-nin Kakashi was real, and he was watching his soup grow cold.
After everything that she'd have slept better without knowing, Kushina knew that when Kakashi clambered over to her doorstep—half-drugged up to keep himself awake, and delirious from blood loss, his first instinct was to find to his Minato-sensei. Master and student were certainly a pair. These two needed to kami-damned talk, and she packed away her dishes after giving one last, obvious nod to Minato. However it was between them.
Talk.
The ANBU's one eye widened as she turned to walk away. He'd come looking for Minato, but now that he was here, he didn't want to be left alone with the man that was once his master.
The Yellow Flash ate sullenly for a while, remembering how everything was so much easier before—those 6am training sessions that made him boast of the genius he was proud of. Telling Kushina what a power he was, how much of a fight he'd have to put up against him. Telling her how sad it was as he grew up, and grew distant. Their hour-long chats when he came for advice, or a simple talk, or someone to talk at, seemed an era away.
He looked up. The scar on his eye was raw for the longest time, he remembered. Still bleeding months after, making him cry tears of blood. But that was years ago, too. It had scabbed over, finally, and now it was much darker, thinner than he remembered. His eyes drooped. God—it's been so long since I've seen you, Kakashi. What are they doing to you in the ANBU these days?
Minato cringed into his food. The ninja had being avoiding him these past few months. But why? He chuckled inwardly. It's not like he was any cleaner than him. What in the hell was up with the boy—er—man? Teenager? He'd literally seen him rip tens of men in half. He'd sent Kakashi away when he needed to off his opponents in a less graceful way. Yes, he's some kind of a hero in the light—but Kakashi saw himself as a nuisance for the same thing in the dark.
Minato shifted his eyes suspiciously, trying not to stare at his former-student. Ha. Now who is it trying to do chronic eye-averting? It was stupid, and probably rude, he realised, but Minato hadn't seen his face since he was so young. He'd grown up now, grown up too fast and more weary than Minato had ever been at that age. Nothing had being fair for him.
The war was over, but the things it did to him happened only yesterday in his eye.
"Kakashi."
"Hai, sensei."
"You'll aways be welcome here. You know that, right?"
"I know."
Minato smiled.
"…I shouldn't be, but I know."
He faltered. This time, anger welled up inside him. Minato stood, knocking his chair over. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that again. Kuso! Kakashi. Why do you….listen, Kakashi, I care about you. Ok? I care a holy-lot about you."
Kakashi raised his brows, mimicking what he once did at the start of one of his sensei's ol' lectures. But it wasn't like that, this time. I know. That's why I've being doing it.
"I thought you hated me. You've being skipping entire blocks to avoid me, so I let you. And no, no no, I don't blame you, what happened to us, everything after Kannabi bridge," He paused a moment, surprised that he said it out loud. Kannabi bridge. Nightmare campaign. And the first victory the Yellow Flash's name would be forever tied to. His stomach turned.
"K…Kannabi bridge—it's all on me. But what you're doing to yourself—stop it. It's not fair for you. Don't treat yourself so bad. You can hate me. Heh. What kind of a sensei lets half his team die, anyway?" He smiled sourly.
A silence came over him, and he had said what he wanted to. Minato turned to lean his right side on the wall. Why was it that the fastest ninja in the world was so goddamned slow? Too slow, too slow, to save his own team. Right—'team.' Ha, ha. They were only children.
Kakashi looked on in a flustered confusion, balking at his words. There was rebuttal in his eye, a million counter-arguments that he couldn't voice out loud to finish within the week.
"Minato-sensei—no, none of that is remotely true! It wasn't your fault. None of that could be helped. No one can control something like that."
"Then don't blame yourself."
"…"
They went silent, embarrassed; their outbursts sounding were like children bickering—except it was about death. The soups grew cold between them.
"Nothing will make me think less of you, Kakashi. Nothing. I've…I've been keeping tabs on you. After you stopped talking to me. Sorry. You took on an S-rank mission last week. You single-handedly stopped a small village going into a civil war…in the wave country."
"It…sounds flattering when you put it that way."
"That was one mission. One mission that saved hundreds? Hundreds of thousands?"
"I, suppose, sensei."
"Every one of those people are able to be breathing, eating tomato soup, and beating themselves up like a certain someone— all because of you. One mission, Kakashi.
"…"
His voice went quiet.
"That's why you joined the ANBU right? So you could do all the dirt-missions the smart ninja won't do? And you still find your life worth nothing?"
"…"
"Screw the missions, geez! Mission or no damned mission, I find you worth everything."
He paused, near exasperated.
"Sensei." Kakashi sighed out. "I've avoided you for so long. You didn't deserve that. I've spent so much, trying to make sure there won't ever be another Obito or Rin."
He swallowed hard, nails digging into palms. "Trying to make up for Kannabi bridge and after that. I didn't want to see you. Nothing's the same anymore…now you just, remind me too much of the better times."
And I don't deserve it. I'm afraid.
Kakashi looked to Minato, feeling the need to focus both eyes on his reaction. He has to know. "Hate has never crossed my mind. Never."
It was Minato's time to stare, and he did it blatantly, taking in all the emotion in Kakashi's face, looking at him like he had just discovered the one thing missing in his life. "The thing about 'better times,' is that it's not just in the past. Things will get better, Kakashi. Things always get better."
Minato smiled again, hoping against everything that he wasn't lying. He'll believe it too. Even if just so Kakashi could.
They sat there together for a while, hearts a ton lighter, consciences a little clearer; wondering what the hell took them so long to get here. 'Here' was where Kakashi could finally look him in the eye and Minato could almost laugh. They never needed to forgive each other, only themselves. A warmth emanated from Kakashi, and he was happy that the thing that hurt most was, in fact, the throb on his shoulder.
"So, what is it? Is it the chidori? Because that jutsu needs to be built up bit by bit—element manipulation, it's too exhausting."
"Huh?"
"The reason you're so beat up—you know you have a reputation to save now, right?"
He dipped his head to sigh, tousling a fringe of silver over.
"Yeah. I drained myself with five. I can only produce four? Say what you want, Kushina-dono has probably said it thrice over…"
Minato suddenly cocked his head over his right, shoulders becoming haunched and suspicious.
"Minato-sensei?"
"Open your eye, Kakashi. The red one."
Kakashi blinked two eyes open, the sharingan spinning in confusion. But he tensed up as Minato did, sensing his chakra flare throughout his body. "Alright, Kushina's in the other room. And please don't tell her I showed you this…"
He didn't wait for Kakashi to nod, but unfurled his hands onto the table, left palm clutching onto right wrist. With a sharp intake of breath, he summoned forth a power that revolved in an instant, lighting them both up in a blue glow. The air in the room swivelled, and Kakashi watched mesmerised at the archaic sphere of energy; seeing it grow, and swirl, and curl inwards back into itself. It hovered quaintly in the palm of his hand. Like looking into into a rushing whirlpool, except the waves were made of chakra; and they rolled with a momentum that was dizzying to behold.
Kakashi stood up suddenly, mouth parting at the majesty. He could feel the power, and the sharingan spun as the jutsu did, taking in the form and feel: every slight slip of energy, every twist in the chakra mapped in his mind. But soon, something jolted within in, and the perfect sphere straggled apart, sending a current reverberating through the room, blowing back their hair. It was gone like an exhale of breath.
"Phew. Sorry. I can usually hold it better, and longer, but I got nervous doing it in the house."
"It's a new jutsu."
"Yeah, what do you think?"
"It's beautiful." He answered, a little surprised at the word, but he didn't correct it. Minato smiled, grinning wryly. "That's what Kushina said so too."
"Since when?" Kakashi asked, a new awe in his voice.
"I'm not anywhere up to your level with your chidori invention," Minato mused, skirting a hand through his hair, "took me years. That's the furtherest I've got. Did you catch how I did it?"
"Chakra manipulation. In its purest. You compressed that amount of energy into a viable form…that's a lot of control…" Kakashi looked up. "Sensei—that's an A-rank jutsu at the very least."
Minato's soft smile widened into a beam.
"One demonstration and you've got it already, heh heh he ha! It's not gonna take you years and years to get this." He chuckled proudly.
"Me?"
"Some incentive for you to come over—you know— other than when you're beat up bloody. I'll teach it to you. The Rasengan."
"Rasengan." He breathed.
Things were going to get better. Just hours ago, he was blinking back bloody tears. Now he was full of Kushina-donos' soup, his wounds sealed, and Minato was his sensei again. The broken bridge in his mind blurred a little more into the distance. "Minato-sensei. I'll be honoured to learn the rasengan from you. Thank you." The deepest gratitude he knew was to bow, but he resisted the urge. Minato hated over-formality and it didn't feel right, this time. A genuine smiled filled his face, and it was like he had taken back the years he had lost, actually looking like his age.
"I'll do the dishes, sensei. I need to thank Kushina-dono for the meal too."
Deleted/Alternate line:
"The thing about 'better times,' is that it's not just in the past. Things will get better, Kakashi. Things always get better." Minato smiled again, hoping against everything that he wasn't lying. "Believe it."
I'm sorry about that guys, I read it over and that was all I could think of ^
Rac 95- you're fab
Prescripto13- all my gratitude, you always come to the rescue with reviews, you mean a lot
Vitalum Vitalis- ta! very 'asap' right? you rule, thankie
RockingTheGraveyard- dayum, thx you followed at the exact right time XD
kakashifan7- yay!
And a warm, warm thank you! to everyone else.
Notes:
I'm sorry this last chapter kinda completely deviated from the original one shot. Instead of the Kakashi-Kushina dynamic, I went full Minato-Kakashi. The thing is, look what Kakashi went through after losing Obito and Rin. There is no way Minato walked away from that without a scratch. In the fic, Kakashi and Minato went their separate ways a while after the war, holding all sorts of grudges and demons until their reunion here. They actually confront what was keeping them apart. Grief does strange things to people.
But yea, everything I write is super-indulgent...hee
So after this, they're cool again, and Minato is crowned Hokage and Kakashi gets to work under him again...Ever wondered how Kakashi knew the rasengan? Here's one take on it. At this point, I will probably have to change the synopsis, but eh, later, don't want to confuse people.
I want to write more Kakashi and Kushina scenes, but I will have to leave it as it is for now. Once I get some other priorities out of the way, I'll come back to this.
Truly, Thank you.
-earl