Ok, I'm not going to fight over Hinata x Gaara anymore. To me, it was the best way to add more conflict to a story which (so far) is looking to eliminate most of its main villains very quickly, and also, because after writing it, I'm surprised why no else did. If you want a longer explanation, I asked some of my readers on SpaceBattles what they'd want to see for pairings (where this story is crossposted from), and they all generally did not want NaruHina, and wanted something different.
Thank you for reading, and hopefully I'll post the next chapter soon ( 's doc manager thing is real annoying sometimes).
Winter has finally arrived, it's sparkling snow and sheets of ice dancing over Konoha. The lingering feeling of sorrow, reflected within the mirrors that line the roads and village, only heartened by the end of the year.
It's a bittersweet one, perhaps. Or a triumphant one—but everyone has had their own share of sorrow. At least, that's what Jiraiya thinks. It's all too easy to dream, to let those dreams grow and grow until they swallow your whole world with failure. And visiting the grave of Hiruzen Sarutobi only magnifies that bitter regret. It worms up his spine, crawling into the back of his throat, where it grows, weighing his tongue with fond recollections and fears of a torpid future.
The cold never bothered him, but every time he gazes at the massive marble monument, he wonders what Sarutobi-sensei would think. Hiruzen was never a man of luxuries or elegance, but one of simplicities and kindness. Better to be remembered in the hearts of those he served than in the cold marble of statues, he would say.
But Danzo continued onwards, glorifying the Third Hokage to the level of a God. A God of Shinobi, they call him. He exhales, the white mist waving in the morning mist.
His own actions are trifling actions in the presence of the Hokage. What has he made, but countless failures? Nagato, dead. Minato, dead.
He is the only remainder of the Sandaime—Tsunade is long gone, and Orochimaru is dead, sealed within the belly of the Shingami. All that is left is the council of elders, with Danzo at the head.
His footfalls crunch into the snow, as he walks away. Hizuren had made his choice—who was Jiraiya to disrespect that? So, his head lifts slowly, looking at the pitter-patter of the snowflakes. He touches one, the snowflake melting in the gentle warmth of his outstretched hand. The little droplets left behind roll down his callouses, and flow like a river over the line of life. That is if you can even call it a line, for all its bends and curves.
No, it's more akin to a road. And as much he wants to wash it away, he can't. This is what he remembers as he surveys the emergency council convened to elect a new Hokage.
"Lord Jiraiya." Kakashi nods his head at him, and Jiraiya returns his greeting. Their conversation is cut short by Danzo, who clears his throat to gather everyone's attention. He isn't fooling anyone.
"With the Sandaime's passing, a new Hokage must be chosen. As such, this council has been convened." There is a pause, to let the message sink in. "Does anyone wish to nominate a candidate?"
Well, there's no time better than the present. "Why don't you start, Danzo?" Jiraiya challenges.
"If that is what you wish," Danzo replies, "I nominate Hatake Kakashi to the title of Godaime Hokage."
What—Jiraiya's eyes flicker towards Kakashi. The silence continues, until Maito Gai cries out, "I support Kakashi!" Standing up, the Green Beast of Konoha (and Turtle Sage) lowers his voice, as admiration leaks into his voice. It's something Jiraiya recognizes, all too easily. He had spoken the same way to Orochimaru once, a long time ago.
Gai's voice is solemn, and quiet in tone. "To become Hokage is no easy task. If you had asked me ten years ago if Kakashi would have become the Hokage, I would have said no." His eyes are closed, and his hands shake.
It had always been Obito who had wanted to reach the hat, not Kakashi. But when Obito passed, Kakashi had inherited his eye, his dream, and his wishes.
Kakashi's murmurs softly, "Gai..." but Gai continues on.
"To blaze forward, and carve a new era of the Leaf shining with the vigor of eternal Youth, to create a new spring tide for us all..." His gaze turns up, eyes hard and unflinching. "That is what I believe Kakashi will do. That is what I believe my friend will do!"
Jiraiya can't believe it. Emotion allowed by Danzo within the shinobi council?
It's worth mentioning the members of said council: Gai, Kakashi, Danzo, Fugaku, Shikaku, Hizashi, and himself.
At least the Sandaime had been somewhat balanced in assigning the seats, but if Kakashi becomes Danzo's puppet there's no telling what might happen. Kakashi was the best choice for the seat. Neutral to most of the major clans, student of the Yondaime, and a man with an honest heart.
Who else would be such a pick? Jiraiya frowns at the realization—the only other shinobi like that would be himself. And he is nowhere ready for that responsibility.
Danzo smiles. It's not a nice smile, but rather a smug one. His lips are out of line slightly, and the creases etched into his face harden with his mouth. "Well spoken, Gai-kun. But I too shall offer my own reasoning: Kakashi-kun is the student of the Yondaime, and possesses the might of a Kage. But most importantly, he understands the true meaning of the Will of the Fire, and what it means to be a shinobi."
Nostalgia blooms over Danzo's face as he recalls the images of the Hokages of the past, and Jiraiya realizes that this man had lived to see both the First and Second in their prime and fought alongside the Third his entire life. If there's one man more qualified to point out qualities of a Kage, it would be Danzo, not that Jiraiya will admit it.
"The Third was given the position at the young age of sixteen, and grew into the role, just like Kakashi no doubt will." He chuckles, and his singular eye turns toward Jiraiya. "We all shall guide him, and the Leaf into the new era. One ruled by the young and free, not us old decrypt men." He waves his hand, as if making a joke.
Fugaku chimes in, "I support Hatake Kakashi as the Fifth Hokage. He has been nothing but helpful and supportive in teaching my own son, Itachi." How long has Jiraiya been away from the village? How many are under Danzo's thrall?
He was no doubt sickened by what Orochimaru had done— but the whole need for invasion had clearly been drummed up by the warhawk. Sensei's cryptic comments regarding the Hyuga affair only inflamed those suspicions. But there was nothing he could say, not yet at least.
Shikaku appeared conflicted as well, frowning at the proceedings. That meant Jiraiya could have both the Nara and Yamanaka vote, which left it equal between his and Danzo's faction—Fugaku, Kakashi, and Danzo. But he could also use Kakashi's disinterest as a tool, if needed. He would not let Konoha become like Kiri or the other shinobi villages, rapidly militarizing and in constant strife.
For the time being, the deciding vote lay with Hizashi Hyuga, whose family was at the center of this entire mess. How poetic, Jiraiya mused. With Hiashi as head ambassador in Suna, Hizashi had taken up his seat until the reforms (& new council system) could be finalized with a new Fire Shadow.
If Hizashi had a preference, he didn't show it. He opened his lips, calm and collected. "I say this not as Hizashi Hyuga, but as Hizashi of the Leaf."
"It has become clear that there are two sides at play, two that shall decide this crucial moment in the history of the Leaf." The tension in the room is palpable, and Jiraiya is starting to consider it.
"I have heard the reputation of Lord Shimura, of the 'Shadow of the Shinobi' and what that entails for his endorsement. It is clear that my colleagues, Lord Nara, Yamanaka, and Lord Jiraiya do not share this view, and that my own vote will be the deciding one. But at the end, I must support Kakashi Hatake, for there is no other candidate that can fit our station, except Lord Jiraiya himself."
"We require a Hokage to steer the Leaf into a new age, to modernize and grow. And for all his might, Lord Jiraiya is not a leader—he himself has run from authority at every moment it has been offered." Jiraiya sighed—this battle was over the moment his track record was mentioned. The best he can do now is guide Kakashi on the right path.
"That is my final decision, but I ask those that oppose me to not let their voices be cast to the shadows of their hearts and lay in resentment, but to speak to guide us forward. A house divided cannot stand, and it will take all the branches of the great tree to shelter us all." Eloquent, concise, and driven by both logic and emotion, Hizashi Hyuga's words echo across the meeting hall. His forehead is visible to all, clear of any brand.
Shikaku exhales, before nodding. "How troublesome, but you're right. I guess you're our Fifth Hokage then, Kakashi."
Inoichi follows his teammate's lead with a pleasant smile. "My mind has been made for me; it appears." And all eyes turn towards Kakashi, who till now has remained silent. He rises, and gazes at the assembled council.
"Thank you." He places a hand over his heart. "I won't let you down." The rest of them will no doubt meet Kakashi in private to discuss their own concerns.
Jiraiya chuckles. "Minato would have been proud of you, kid. Trust me."
And when Kakashi beams back at him, Jiraiya smiles back. There's still hope for his own dream, a world of peace.
His nomination is approved by the Daimyo the next day.
Konoha's Godaime Hokage will be Kakashi Hatake.
Butterflies take flight.
A mask is something fake. A persona projected outwards to hide one's true self. But if you wear one long enough, what is real and what is fake? Jin sheathed the white tanto, its light fading as the tell-tale crackle of his chakra pitters out.
The pristine white of his Inu mask gleams in the morning light. He adjusts his hand, and stretches slowly, heartbeat falling.
It's dark, with the first slivers of the sun only now leaping into the sky from the pits of the underwood, the trees bending and dancing around him. It looks like a celebration, he thinks, before snapping out of his daze. Even after all this time, he still has a child's imagination.
Maybe he hasn't fully grown up yet.
His gaze shifts toward the corpses lying on the ground. Cause of deaths: multiple lacerations, bone fractures, and nerve damage. Already, he could see the vultures circling, eager to get their own share of the prize.
The targets: Suzuku Kai, head of the Land of Fire's finance department and (secret) mobster. It was almost pathetic how much the man had shifted to relying on Kakuzu and ROOT's underground finances to fund his life of luxury and embezzle the taxes from the country.
As Jin steps away, he looks at his hands. Hands that, for once had acted for justice, for good. It was a rush, like something had clicked within his head. Killing wasn't just meaningless, it could mean something. He had seen how many people hid behind masks of righteousness and kindness—Suzuku was just one that had been caught.
His blood boiled, and his hands were already moving before he noticed. It wasn't like anyone would miss this trash. Elder was right: ideals only had value based on who wielded them. Just another reminder of the world he inhabited, and the corruption it was oozed in.
A day later, within the walls of Konoha, that feeling hadn't changed. He had reported to Danzo, and they had exchanged some words over the death of the Sandaime.
"Lord Danzo." The floor was newly repaved, and Jin could see the visible improvements within the facilities.
"Jin." Danzo replies, before sighing. "I trust you have accomplished your mission?"
"Suzuku Kai is dead. His corruption shall no longer stain the Land of Fire."
"Good." A slight incline of his head in acknowledgement. "You are dismissed then. With the death of the Sandaime, there are many internal matters to attend too."
"I see." Jin pauses, and Danzo notices. He chuckles softly.
"Is there something you needed, Jin?"
Jin's eyes twitch, and his hands clench. "Why? Why do people stoop so low? What drives them to do such things?"
"That's a... difficult topic." Elder says. There's a tinge of sadness in his voice. "But this world isn't perfect, it's far from it. Suzuku Kai was just one of those fakes who was caught. It's just the reality of our world."
"But... why?"
"The longer you live, the more you learn that life isn't all sunshine and roses. It's harsh, cruel, and won't hesitate to beat you down if you let it. But the more important question is this- what is right or wrong?"
Jin fumbles at that question. "It's hard to explain..."
"Some will tell you what is right. Some will tell you that the same action is wrong. For each choice you make, there will be someone unsatisfied. At the same time, the most gruesome actions will no doubt have at least one supporter. "
"So, everything I've done is worthless?"
Elder raises one eyebrow. "It all matters what you think, not the world. So, ask yourself: do you think you are right?"
"I do." It was obvious.
"Then all you must do is convince the rest of the world that you are right through your words and actions." Elder replies.
Jin frowns. Would the world be alright with such violence to achieve their goal, or a free and prosperous nation? He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at Elder's kind smile.
"You truly are a peaceful child." He muses, and his grip tightens. "Do not carry such sadness and resentment within your heart. When there is a hole, it must be filled."
Elder performs a small Suiton jutsu, and the water drips out of his hand. The river falls for what seems like an eternity, and Jin can't help himself.
"Filling the hole won't fix anything! It won't change the fact that the water keeps flowing, it only fixes the symptoms! Not the cause!"
"That's where you're wrong, Jin." A moment of silence falls between them. "Because the source of all this wrongness you detest is simply humanity."
Elder's face is calm, his hands still. A knot twists in Jin's stomach. "To be imperfect is to be human. To be greedy is human. All these sins are the result of our pursuit of happiness. What is joy, when you have never felt misery?"
Sadness is simply the absence of Happiness.
Those were Elder's words to him so long ago, but now? They bite, they burn, they break. They're true, but Jin can't accept it. More than now, the mask of 'Jin' slips back in place. For all his skill and experience, he is still a child haunted by ghosts beyond his reach. He can act the role of a heartless assassin all he wants but can't deny the somber boy behind the porcelain mask.
"That's, that's..." His tongue is tied.
"We can preach, we can speak in lofty words about the greatness of man. We can deny our true nature, but all that achieves is ruin. Be honest, Jin! Be honest with yourself! How much senseless death must this world need before things change?! Before we can finally move on?! Do you think ideals can solve that, or can strength?"
Jin cranes his head up. "Strength." He replies softly, after a long pause. "Strength is the only way to create a government, a world that follows your ambition."
He looks back at Elder, who has sat down in his chair. "Is it possible?" He has to know, whether what they're fighting for is real, that it's not a lie. He lets a trickle of hope creep into his voice.
And Elder reclines back, pondering over Jin's question. "It is." He finally says. "I've seen it, and although it's far from perfect, it's something worth fighting for."
"What's it called?" It sounds like a fairytale.
"Earth." Elder finally says. "There was always war, but things were changing. We were moving forward to a better future."
Jin wonders where this world is, and what happened to it. "What happened to it?"
"I saw it in a vision, as it was our destiny." Elder replies. "Of what our world could have been."
Realization dawns within Jin's heart. "You mean—"
"We can achieve it." He finally says. "And that's why I won't give up." A weight seems to lift off Elder's shoulders, and his posture straightens.
Jin is quiet at the revelation, but a part of him smiles in victory. Their dream is possible.
"I wonder, Jin." Elder interrupts his thoughts. "Would you like to hear a story?"
"Okay, but it has to be about Earth."
"So curious? You don't distrust me?" Elder questions.
"You were the closest thing to a father I had. You wouldn't lie to me and to tell me the truth..." Jin closes his eyes. "It took courage."
Words somehow tumble from his throat. "I don't mean any offense, of course!" He blushes a little and scratches his neck.
And Elder laughs, a long, real laugh. "You don't need to worry, Jin. I do not kill just for the pleasure for the killing, I do it to create a better world. For peace."
"For peace." Jin echoes, eyes wide. And when Elder tells him a story, he recalls the empty room he was born in.
Kakashi, Tenzo, Gai, Naruto...
Elder... Danzo.
Only it isn't so lonely now.
Shiro loved his family. It was an idealistic life, one filled with plenty and liveliness.
The millet of Kagura was a peaceful seaside town, inhabited by farmers and merchants. It was completely ordinary. Untouched from the conflicts of shinobi (who only remained in the children's fantasies and their parents' stories), they were able to eke out a happy, peaceful, life.
Until that faithful day—he has replayed it countless times in his head, his whole soul and being so fixated on that one moment that turned his world upside down. It had been a cool, calm August day, and Shiro had decided to play in the fields with Takahashi, his elder brother.
"Come on, Ni-san!" he called, his feet rushing through the grass and moist dirt. Takahashi lagged behind, chuckling at his enthusiasm.
"Wait for me, Shiro!" he replied.
This clearing was where they could play ninja, samurai or any other fantasy that took their fancy. Shiro giggled as he leaned down on the ground, searching for earthworms. He lifted one into the air, letting it dangle between his fingers.
"Here, Takahashi!" He throws it at his older brother who shrieks, leaping it out of the way.
"Hey!" Takahashi growls, brushing mud off his pants. "You know how I am about bugs, Shiro!"
"Sorry..." Shiro mutters, struggling to muffle his giggles, much to his brother's annoyance.
"Whatever."
"Hey! I said sorry!" Shiro huffs, crossing his arms. The two face off, eyes alright with rightful fury.
One second.
Two seconds.
The silence continues, until Shiro begins to laugh, and Takahashi follows suit.
"Next time, don't pull such a stunt, little brother." Shiro sticks out his tongue in response, only for Takahashi to continue on. "Or I'll teach you a lesson that you'll never forget!"
"Yeah, yeah." Shiro knows his older brother. "We'll see, ni-san!"
A long groan is his response. If Shiro turns his head, he can make out Takahasi's ink-black hair a few feet away. Both of them had inherited it from their father.
"Look!" Takahashi calls, pointing to something far in the distance.
"What is it?"
"It looks like... a house!" Takashai replies, and Shiro's eyes widen. A house—that means something new!
"Do you think we should explore?" he pleads.
"I don't know..."
"Come on!" Shiro says, voice filled with excitement. Who knows what lies in that house in the distance? Where did it come from? Who lives there?
Takahashi is uncertain—their mother told them to come back in time for lunch, or in another hour or two. He bites his lip and considers Shiro's proposal. He knows the dangers of the wild—just because they haven't been hurt yet doesn't mean they won't be—but looking at his brother only makes his stomach feel heavier.
"Alright." he says, relenting to Shiro's pleas. "But we better hurry there. No dilly-dallying." Shiro is far too cheerful, and dashes ahead, much to Takahashi's chagrin. He would like to keep Shiro safe, thank you very much.
As the property comes into motion, Takahashi is taken aback how derelict it is. The door is hanging ajar at an angle, and the windows are all shattered. He takes it in and raises a hand to block Shiro from moving forward.
"Shiro." he whispers. "We should go, this place looks creepy."
Shiro takes one last look at the depilated building, before nodding slowly as both boys turn away. Takahashi moves to leave, but a sudden fear freezes him in place. His heart pumps widely, and his eyes dilate. He spins around, and gasps in shock.
A tall man, wearing a headband stands in front of him. A nasty sneer is plastered on his face. Shinobi, Takahashi thinks.
"Well, well, well..." The man taunts, arm keeping ahold of Shiro. "Two little Uchiha, running in the woods, and so far away from Konoha? It must be my lucky day!" He leers at both of them.
"Don't even think of moving, brat." A kunai appears in his hand, and Takahashi is shocked by the grace of its movements. Everything is moving in slow motion, and the blood rushes to his head. Act, a voice whispers in his head.
Maybe it's the adrenaline, the palpable fear in the back of his throat, but Takahashi considers it. Their day had taken a completely different term—what did the man mean by Konoha? Uchiha?
"Ni-n-san!" Shiro croaks, and tears began to fall down his face. What can he do now, what kind of older brother is he? Wait. The man referred to them as Uchiha and 'lucky', meaning their lives were valuable.
He could do it. He raises his hands into the air, keeping his eyes fixated on the enemy. "It's alright, Shiro. You'll be safe." His throat fills with acid, and he walks forward.
"Hehe! Safe? You got another thing coming, kid." The man chuckles. "But tell you what? There's probably more of you, so lead me to mom and dad and maybe I'll spare you." He releases Shiro, and the boy tumbles forward, rushing into the embrace of Takahashi. Snot runs down his face, and Takahashi turns away from the tears.
"Well?"
"We live in a village that way, shinobi-san." Takahashi points towards the coast where Sukuzu is located. When the man's eyes turn, he lunges, throwing Shiro out of the way. His feet skid on the gravel, flowing through movements he suddenly remembers.
Forearm up, leg forward. Dive down, twist your spine to the side. He grabs the ninja's hand, and pulls, relishing the look of surprise adorning the man's face. He doesn't have the strength necessary to knock the man out, so he instead trips him, pulling a kunai free from his belt. Within seconds he had taken the man's life with a swift slash to the neck.
Blood stains the ground, drips on his hands and covers his face. He shakes slowly, his eyes widening and dilating as he grabs the floor, searching for any sanity left within his skull. He touches his face.
His hand is wet.
"N...n-n-ni-san..." his head whips around, and his eyes bore into Shiro, who only recoils in fear. He's afraid, and Takahashi wants to take him in his arms and tell Shiro it'll be ok—they'll go home and mother and father will give them hugs.
He wants to tell him that nothing has changed, but there's a distance between them now. Shiro can never look at Takahashi the same now, and it tears Takahashi's heart to shreds.
"He deserved it," he says, ignoring the fear on Shiro's face. "We survived, Shiro. And that's all that matters." If there's a flint in his voice, a hint of uncertainty, he hasn't noticed it.
Part of him wonders why he doesn't care about that. He takes one more look at the fresh corpse, and back at his hand. The red droplets drip into the grass, and he finally throws the kunai onto the ground.
He'd been holding onto it the entire time.
"Let's go." He orders Shiro, who scurries to keep up with him. Takahashi just wants a breath of fresh air, time to think about what happened. When the damned house is finally out of view, he promptly vomits. He crumples into the grass, gasping for air.
The calm he had projected disappears.
"Takahasi!"
Who is that?
Who is calling him?
What?
"Ni-san!" There's a hand on his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his head, Takahashi wonders what is happening. He can see another building, a sign.
K-o-n- O-rp-
"NI-SAN!" The voice is pleading now, filled with desperation. Groggily, Takahashi reaches for it. Two eyes, onyx black are peering at him. They are filled with concern, and he takes notice of the wetness under them.
"I'm okay." He whispers through clenched teeth, and slowly takes in his surroundings. "I'm okay, Shiro."
"Okay, ni-san." Shiro whispers back, and Takahashi pauses for a second to process what had just happened. "Can... can we go home?"
Takahashi sighs and leans back into the embrace of the earth. He still can't forget the image of the man he had killed, of the way the light in his eyes disappeared. Shiro tugs at his sleeve once more, and Takahasi whips around to look at his little brother once more.
"We'll go after a few minutes." He replies, pushing Shiro's arm away.
"Okay..." Shiro says, turning away and sitting next to Takahashi. They can feel a warm breeze brush against them, and the sun seems to shine even brighter. The light spins faster and faster, bending and breaking, before Shiro finally snaps out of his reverie.
A gasp of air escapes his lungs as he jumps up, sword in hand. Wood & sandstone walls meet his uncertain gaze, and he quietly checks for a Genjutsu. When his chakra pulse meets nothing, he finally relaxes again in his bed once more.
"Takahashi..." he whispers to the silence, voice filled with longing. Ever since then, Takahashi had led them forward, guided them from hell to hell. He had protected Shiro with his life.
But Takahashi is long gone, body turned to ash. And Shiro is all that remains.
"Talk to me..." he calls and can feel a hand on his shoulder. Turning back, he can see Takahashi's kind smile. Can't his ghosts just leave him alone?
Nonetheless, he indulges this fantasy of his. His brother relaxes on the wall and faces him. "You know this is fake, right?"
Shiro knows. But he can't help himself, like an addict unable to stop himself from the next dopamine boost.
Takahashi frowns and walks in front of him. "Let go, Shiro." Shiro hates that smile of his. The way he acts so happy when the two of them will never meet again. But he doesn't say anything.
"You and I are already linked forever."
Shiro's eyes itch, the Eternal Magekyo Sharingan forming as he takes in his brother's form. Memorizing it, the lines chiseleed into his face by a stolen childhood. His gaunt frame from a life of starving himself to feed his younger brother.
"I can call you back..." Shiro leans in, and the desperation on his face makes Takahashi cringe. Danzo had shown him the scroll, the secrets of the Edo Tensai. Everything he ever wanted, the life he deserved is at his touch.
Time and time again he has asked Takahashi, or at least his mind's fabrication. And each time, he gets the same answer.
"It won't change anything." Takahashi says, the lingering feeling of his fingers brushing through Shiro's hair. "I made my choice."
His voice is tender, and Shiro closes his eyes. It makes the end all the less painful.
Takahashi chuckles. "We can't deny the balance of the world, Shiro. We can't change the past. All we can do is keep moving forward, and you know that."
And when Shiro opens his eyes, the room is empty once more. He exhales softly and looks at where Takahashi once stood.
Ni-san... I guess I'll try it your way one more time.
Either way, he should probably check in with Hiashi. And bring some food, no doubt. Idly, Shiro wonders how Kaito and Shisui are doing. He makes a note to bring some souvenirs for them.
Kaito especially.
Anko sighed one last time, before finally pushing open the door and stepping into the Hokage's office. Only there was no Hokage—the council was still deliberating, and according to Jin they had selected a successor to the seat. For the time being it was kept by Danzo Shimura, who had taken charge of the village after the Sandaime's death.
"Lord Shimura." She bowed politely. He did not wear the hat or robes of the Kage but sat behind the desk. The implications were clear—he was the one in charge.
"Anko." He nods in acknowledgement, and motions towards a chair. "I must admit, you have surpassed my expectations." There's a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he smiles at her, and Anko can't help but shiver slightly.
"I am happy to serve the Hidden Leaf." While she would usually have made a crass comment, this isn't the Sandaime, kind and gentle. It is Danzo, and for all the kindness he showed her there's a certain level of respect that must be paid.
"Good, good. It is nice to see such enthusiasm from the young." He lifts a paper, and studies it. "I'm sure you are aware of what has happened to the Sandaime, and the changes a new Kage will bring."
"I am."
"Then I expect you to play a key role in this transition. Further details will be provided later on a need-to-know basis." Danzo smirks and leans back in his chair.
"I understand, sir." She swallows slowly, and nods. "Is that all?"
"Just one word." He smiles at her, and for a second Anko is shocked at the gentleness within his expression. It's almost like a grandfather, she muses. He holds out an envelope. "Thanks to your department, the war was a major success. Consider that a reward for your gallantry."
She takes it gingerly, and nods back. "Thank you." The next second she left the office, closing the door behind her and exhaling. Gods, that was intense. She pities Kakashi even more now if he had to deal with that every day.
"Are you alright?" She turns and sighs at Jin's familiar Wolf mask. At least he's on guard duty today.
"Yeah." Anko snorts, holding up the envelope. "Even got a prize, thank you very much." She can't tell if he's smiling behind that mask, but he seems to visibly brighten.
"That's good." Jin comments. He leans forward and hesitates slightly. "Could we talk about something? In private?" Anko's eyes widen, before a smirk appears on her face—did he finally get the courage?
"Oh~" She winks at Jin, before slinging an arm on his shoulder. "So, you finally got the guts, huh?"
"What do you mean?" The mask shifts slightly to the side, almost like a dog. Anko has to hide her smile from how adorable it looks—Jin's an elite ANBU, after all. The farthest from "cute" you can get.
"Oh, we'll see." She smiles mischievously, and saunters out of the Hokage building before disappearing into a swirl of leaves. Landing in an empty field some distance away, she turns around to see Jin standing behind her. His fingers climbed up the porcelain covering, unbuckling the straps as he pulled the Inu mask off his face.
His spiky white hair fanned into the morning breeze, and his blazing blue eyes met her own. Well, he certainly was a man on a mission. Anko grinned—that entrance was perfect. She wondered who he had asked for tips, but he had nailed everything so far.
He turned his face to look back at her, gaze gentle, eye's softening. The creases on his face smoothed out as he smiled, light emanating from the expression. But she couldn't help but wonder why he looked so sad—she could see it in his eyes, a sense of desperation eating him from the inside.
"Anko..." He paused, looking away from her. She took a step towards him, brow furrowing. "I wanted to tell you something."
Jin inhaled, swallowing nervously. "I wanted to ask you..."
Anko sighs at his hesitation and can't help but smile.
"I wanted to ask you if you would go on a date with me!" He finally blurts out, and Anko can see the desperation shining in his eyes once more. He really looks like a dog waiting for a treat, Anko muses.
She lets the suspense build, before poking him in the face. "I've been waiting for quite a while, Jin."
"My answer is yes!" Anko slaps him on the back, watching him slowly deflate as all his anxiety flows out. "Kami, it took you ages!"
He smiles sheepishly, before scratching his neck. "I didn't really mean it... I was busy, I guess."
"So was I, Jin!" She chuckles, before turning to him. "Well, where are we going? You don't want to keep me waiting!"
"I booked a restaurant for us this evening. I'll pick you up." Jin replies, filled with a sense of confidence. Anko snickers at how robotic he sounds—not that she would have it any other way.
"I'll look forward to it." Anko smirks, her eyes curving upwards. "But what made you ask, Jin-jin? There surely must be something..."
Jin blushed at the nickname (that was a win!) and turned away. "I guess I got a new perspective..." He mumbled.
"So you finally noticed?" Anko teased, before patting him on the back. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure you wouldn't have waited till we both were old farts before confessing!"
"Anko..."
"Yes?"
A soft sigh was Jin's response. "Why don't we take a walk and talk?"
"I'm fine with that, if you're still scared. I'm sure big-bad ANBU like you have a hard time talking about emotions, like your 'ni-san'~"
"I don't have any issue with my emotions!"
"Hey..." Anko took his hand and squeezed it. "You don't need to lie, Jin."
"Lie about what?"
"About whom you are." She looked straight into his eyes. Anko knew best what it meant to have your identity stripped away, forced into a mold you didn't have. "Kakashi never had a younger brother, and I've known him since he was a child..."
"Anko-" Jin stuttered, shock coloring his face.
"I don't know what Orochimaru did to you, or what kind of life you had." His involvement with ROOT, and how he had been deployed with the Sandaime to finally catch Orochimaru. She knew how obsessed the Snake Sannin was with blood limits in his mad pursuit of power. "But it doesn't matter to me."
"I don't know-" She interrupted him, placing a finger on his lips.
"Don't ever make excuses for who you are. You can't change it." She could feel the lingering remnant of the seal she had branded with, now nothing but a distant memory. Jin looked back at her; conflict written on his face. Her own hand reached out and lifted up his chin.
Jin smiled at her. "Hopefully these will help."
"I'm alright—it's just a scratch."
His childish dream.
"I just want a world where no one has to cry."
"Hey! It's not impossible- I'll prove it!"
"I guess I'm still a kid, then."
Jin's eyes open, and he takes in Anko's gentle smile, and the feel of her hand touching his cheeks. He always knew he was never Kakashi's brother—regardless of what Elder told him. But Kakashi had accepted him and cared for him like one.
He won't be defined by what blood flows through his veins. He'll make his own story, his own legacy—one as beautiful as the White Fang's.
Just like Anko will go on to become one of Konoha's finest shinobi. And if they can do it together, well?
The past is history, tomorrow is a mystery. But today, today is a gift.
And under the dancing snow of winter's calling, the two share a precious moment. For Jin, he knows what he wants, and his determination is clear. It doesn't matter if it's impossible—it's still something worth fighting for.
The Sandaime had died for that. Hashirama Senju, all the Hokage had died for that dream. And if he is able to achieve even a fraction of their glorious deeds, he'll be satisfied. He won't be alone, either.
Anko gazes back at Jin, as their foreheads press against each other. She had always been defined by Orochimaru, never able to run from the traitor's shadow—until Danzo, until Jin. And if she can find her own share of happiness, she'll fight to protect it.
Kakashi's eyes gaze upwards at the Memorial Stone. The war is over, ending with success—Orochimaru is dead, his schemes failing under the might of Konoha. There are zero casualties, except the Sandaime Hokage.
But it only feels right to visit, and tell Obito, to tell Rin and Minato-sensei of how their world has changed. He doesn't come here as frequently, not when he has friends and family who are still living.
There's no point in talking to the dead when the living are waiting for you.
"So, you are still here, Hatake." Danzo emerges from the shadows and stands next to Kakashi. In the distance, Kakashi can make out the Third's mausoleum.
"Maa, Danzo-sensei." He smiles at the older man. "I thought I might as well pay my respects."
The two stands in silence for a while, and Kakashi can't help but wonder at the déjà vu he feels.
"It is odd, is it not? We met here, while you were mourning the loss of the Fourth. And now we meet again at the death of the Third."
"It truly is strange." Kakashi comments.
"The seat of the Hokage is empty."
Kakashi doesn't respond.
"You would make a good Kage, Kakashi."
"Would I?"
Danzo exhales. "Do you know how Hiruzen Sarutobi became the Third?"
He's vaguely familiar with the story. The Kinkaku Squad had attacked the Second's escort group, and Tobirama Senju had sacrificed his life to save his students, naming Hiruzen Sarutobi the Sandaime Hokage.
"The Second gave his life to protect his students and passed the mantle of Hokage to the Third."
Danzo doesn't react. "That's what they teach in the textbooks, yes. But when the Second told us his plan, Hiruzen... he offered to sacrifice his life instead. He did what even I could not bring myself to do."
Kakashi's eyes widen.
"I believe you have your own saying, yes- 'those who abandon the mission are trash, but those who abandon their comrades are even worse than trash'?"
"That's..."
"Your teammate wished to become the Hokage when he gave that Sharingan eye to you." Danzo comments, his head turning towards Obito's name.
"He did."
"You just want me to become Hokage, don't you Danzo? Why don't you take the position yourself?"
Danzo sighs, and his voice fills with a sense of regret and sorrow. "I didn't deserve it back then—and I don't deserve it now. I am old Kakashi, and I will die of age within a few years. The Leaf doesn't need another elder, it needs someone young."
Like the Yondaime. Like Minato- sensei.
"I'm not fit for such a post." He has to be many ghosts, too many regrets. It wasn't even his dream.
"Obito would wish for you to become Hokage, to carry on his wishes."
"Would he?"
"Kakashi." Danzo raises his hand into the air. "I shall be frank with you. I could give the position of Godaime to anyone, and they would be accepted. That is the power I wield over Konoha, power that should rest in the hands of the Kage."
Silence returns between them.
Kakashi thinks of what his friends, his comrades would say. But the only thing he can remember is Jin's face.
All it takes for evil to grow is for good men to do nothing.
The Sandaime had let Orochimaru continue his experiments, and desecrate the legacy of the Shodai, Minato-sensei, and... his father. He had let Naruto grow up in neglect, subject to the village's hate.
The Sandaime was a good man, and someone who had given his life for the village. But somewhere, Kakashi knew that he was tired of his job, tired of the burden. He wouldn't have lost to Orochimaru one on one, Kakashi knows this.
I'm going to become the Hokage one day, Kakashi-sensei!
Kakashi can change everything. He can make sure Naruto grows up happy and safe, in a village that treats him equally. He can make the world Obito dreamed of.
But most importantly, he can carry on Minato-sensei's dream.
He chuckles softly. "I guess my mind is made up, then."
Danzo smirks. "You have grown since the time we met here, Kakashi."
"Are you finally going to tell me who was behind the Kyuubi attack?" Kakashi's eye morphs into an upside down 'U' as he faces Danzo.
A roaring laugh is his response. "When you are the Fifth, you can order me all you like. Consider it one final bargaining chip."
"Maa," Kakashi smiles. "It's nice to know you haven't changed, sensei."
"Who would you want as your personal guard?" Danzo asks.
"So impatient..." Kakashi hums, miming a thinking position. "I don't know."
"You aren't the Hokage yet!"
"One final bargaining chip, right?" Kakashi pushes his hands into his pockets.
Danzo pauses, before giving Kakashi an amused smirk. "You learn quickly, don't you?"
"Jonin at 12, Hokage at 20. Not so bad if you think about it." And all Danzo can do is chuckle at Kakashi's "enthusiasm".
The future is bright, Kakashi thinks. He should probably tell Gai, but on second thought... no.
Best to keep it a surprise. He can only imagine Obito's face right now, watching from the Pure Lands.