Chapter Thirteen - Finding Home
Obito led Kakashi up a creaking set of stairs to the top floor of one of the shorter and squatter Jōnin apartment complexes in the village. It lay on the east side of town where in his world the rents had been cheap, the personalities colourful, and the landlords only willing to fix amenities if threatened at knifepoint. The view, at least, was quaint, with the greenery of the distant park framing the even more distant Hokage Mountain.
As they had sneaked out the backdoor of the facility, Kakashi had been taking note of their surroundings. They took to the rooftops, lest someone spy his presence before they were ready to properly introduce him to the world. Obito stuck close the entire way, wary that Kakashi's chakra would suddenly fail and he would be peeling him off the street. What struck him the most was how truly little differed between this Konoha and the one he knew. Some shops replaced others. A side street opened up where in his world it had been blocked in by a tenement. The Red Iris, an infamous little gambling den, was now a civilian medical supply store. They leapt over the alley way that Kakashi recalled pulling a drunken, hollering man from as ANBU, now replaced by an idling horse and cart and men throwing boxes of supplies to the awaiting girl at the back door. Kakashi supposed he had expected... more. Here, it was as though someone could pass through one world to the next and back again as easily as they crossed the street and never know anything different.
"Here we go," Obito said in front of the last door down the length of the long verandah. As he unlocked it, he turned to Kakashi, suddenly looking sheepish. "Oh, uh, mind the dogs."
"The what—" The air was punched from him with an oof as a red-brown flicker barrelled into Kakashi's stomach.
Instinctively, he pushed the brown ball away and looked down to find a familiar face. Guruko, huffing, tail wagging, and tongue lolled. Crowding around the threshold of the door sat seven more yipping, salivating ninken. Kakashi stared at them in wonder. Their tails thumped the carpet, wagging so furiously they beat the floor like drums. His dogs. His ninken. He looked to Obito for answers and the man just shrugged, a grin on his face. "I told them you were coming, and they wanted to be here when we got back."
"You took them," Kakashi stated dumbly, reaching out a hand to pat Ūhei's head. He could help himself, not after so many miserable weeks. Kakashi sunk to his knees. The dogs bowled forth, nearly tipping him over with their excited yips and licks. Shiba jumped into his lap, thrashing in his hold, the dog licking sloppily under his chin.
Obito scratched the back of his head, ruffling Bisuke's ears as the dog jumped on his hind legs against the other man's thighs in excitement. "Someone had to."
"How?"
Obito became confused. "What do you mean 'how'? I signed the contract."
"But—" Kakashi stood, looking about. There at the back, patiently waiting, was a little pug dog. "Pakkun."
"Hey Boss," the little pug greeted. "Been awhile."
A few weeks was enough for Kakashi, he couldn't imagine however many years.
He moved, scooping Pakkun up to hold him close. He didn't miss the soft whimper the dog made, nor the briefing thrashing of his tail. Kakashi only held him closer, pressing his nose to the little dog's fur. Pakkun smelt the same.
As he pulled away, the pug appeared nonchalant, as though the sniffing Kakashi heard from him was just his imagination. Kakashi smiled. Pakkun cleared his throat. "Missed you, Boss. We all did. Even if you look a little taller and smell a little different."
I do? Everyone smelt the same to him. Then again, his sense of smell was weaker in comparison. Not to mention he had been in a medical facility for the past couple of weeks and a demonic chakra suffused mess before that. Perhaps that was what the little dog sensed.
"It looks like Obito has been taking good care of you guys."
The other man scrubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks tinged pink as he looked away.
"Kid hasn't done too bad. Questionable choice in kibble aside."
"Hey!" Obito scowled.
"You signed the contract?" Kakashi asked Obito.
Obito tugged open one of the pockets on his flak jacket to pick out a scroll, waving it between his fingers. It was a copy of the original. It's probably the only thing he can use, Kakashi considered. He didn't expect Obito to know the Hatake jutsu for the dogs.
"Uh, yeah. After you — our you — passed away." Obito made a face. "I found the contract at the Hatake estate. Since there were no other Hatake around, I took it. Better me than going into some vault never to be seen again, right?
"Gran wasn't pleased at first. Took her a bit to get over the initial shock of me signing another clan's summoning scroll and having eight dogs suddenly pop into our small house in the compound, but she got used to it." A soft look played on Obito's face as he recalled the memory. "She even started asking me to summon them. They kept her company, helped her out when she needed it. I think she just liked having someone to talk to when I was away. Helped with the gardening too."
In Kakashi's arms, Pakkun bobbed his little square head. "Yasu was a good woman."
Kakashi's heart lifted. When he had learned of the death of the Kakashi of this world, part of him had worried about what that meant for the possessions of his clan — the ninken most of all. But they had been loved and taken care of. And still were.
"Obito," he gently called. Obito looked up in surprise. "Thank you. It means more than you know. I'm glad it was you that took them."
Obito's eye widened. He swallowed and wordlessly nod. Kakashi watched as Bull leant his large body against Obito's leg, tongue lolled and looking up at Obito like he adored him. Obito played with the dog's ear before fixing his collar, mouth twitching like he was trying to find something to say. It was the most expressive Kakashi had seen him yet.
It reminded him of the boy who wore his heart on his sleeve.
"You're welcome," was all he eventually managed and Kakashi held down a chuckle. "What's the deal with Hatake and dogs anyway? I've never found out. Someone—" he eyed Pakkun accusingly, the pug giving a huff "—refuses to tell me. Trade secrets apparently."
This time Kakashi did laugh. He looked at Pakkun, questioning. "Really?"
The pug gave a shrug. "It's fun to keep him guessing." At that Obito looked mildly incensed.
"There's not much to it," Kakashi admitted. "Centuries ago our clan head made a blood pact with an Inugami named Daichi. In exchange for the Hatake honouring him as the protective spirit of our clan, Daichi would protect the farms from wolves and other predators by offering his children to be our companions and clan summons. And this one—" he poked Pakkun in the side making the little dog grunt, "—is the newest to speak on behalf of the pack as Daichi's mouth. Or so the legend goes."
"Huh." Obito almost looked disappointed.
"Were you expecting more?"
He scratched his cheek. "I dunno, I was sorta expecting... dog men or something. You know, with the nose thing."
Kakashi quirked his brow. "Dog men," he repeated flatly. In his arms, Pakkun looked suspiciously smug.
The tips of Obito's ears turned a little red.
"Uhhhh, It's stupid," Obito muttered. "Forget it." He watched Kakashi roll Pakkun into one arm to scratch Ūhei behind the ears. An unreadable expression crossed his face. "Uh, I'm just gonna—" he pointed to one of the closed doors, then wordlessly gestured to the hoard of dogs around Kakashi's feet. "—you know. Leave you guys to reconnect." He cleared his throat. "I'll be—" He pointed to the door again.
"Got it," Kakashi said, amused.
Obito nodded. "Right," he said and quickly fled to what looked like a bedroom.
Once the door was closed, Kakashi looked down at Pakkun. "Did you let him believe for years that the Hatake are descended from hounds?"
"Might've suggested something." Kakashi let out a full belly laugh. Behind Obito's door something thumped loudly on the floor.
Shaking his head, he let Pakkun down, accepting more licks and nudges from the other ninken. Pakkun trailed toward a large dog bed by the couch and slumped on it. The sheepskin was flattened, yellowed with age and use.
"Obito shouldn't have been able to sign," Kakashi told the pug. "You know this. The blood should've run straight off the scroll. He's not the Hatake clan head or an heir — by blood or by marriage." Unless they shared an ancestry Kakashi didn't know about.
Digging his paws into the bedding, Pakkun smirked in that lazy way of his. "Maybe Dad and Lady Rice like him."
"He's said something? Have you seen him?"
"No, but that's the only explanation, right? Only Dad could've adjusted the covenant to include the kid."
So Daichi was out there somewhere. Even if the inugami hadn't spoken to any clan head in generations. He certainly hadn't spoken to Kakashi.
Kakashi sighed. "You like him too."
Pakkun shrugged, "he's a good kid."
Warmth filled Kakashi's breast. If the ninken trusted Obito, there could be no doubt that the man was worth following. Snarling Dog... and that fire hound jutsu of his. Kakashi wondered just how much Obito had made the fragments of Hatake Kakashi a part of himself. Just as he had done with the likes of Obito; even Rin. And Rin herself had shown some... unhealthy attachments to him, appreciated by it as he felt. They were a mess. All three of them.
"So," Pakkun asked, interrupting his thoughts, "you gonna sign again?"
"Again?" Kakashi shook his head. "The signature on that scroll isn't mine, technically. You're not mine, Pakkun. You never were. The covenant is between the Hatake of this world and Daichi. Not me. And regardless, you're Obito's ninken now. I'm not about to intrude on that."
Pakkun gave him a dark look before he huffed and curled up in his bed, turning his back. Conversation over. Ouch.
Obito emerged from his room in more comfortable, homey clothes once things had quietened down and the dogs had exhausted their excitement and themselves. He caught Kakashi on the couch, looking around the place and cringed, muttering about how Rin was going to kill him for being a bad host. Kakashi snorted.
"It's fine," he assured. "I forgive you. Seeing you embarrassed was worth it. I won't even tell Rin that you were tricked for more than a decade by a pug dog the size of a milk jug."
"I wasn't— nngh, nevermind." In Obito's defence, he did manage to fight off the flush from his face. "Come on, I'll show you your room."
Clearly it was a room rarely inhabited. The window had been pushed open and a breeze let in to air out the place, fluttering the thin set of curtains. Kakashi placed down his meagre duffel bag. Clean and minimalist. As he preferred. Obito inspected the room with him, leant against the doorframe, his broad shoulders taking up most of the space. "Not much to it. Let me know if you're missing anything." He squinted at the cupboards. "Might be some stuff in there, but I'll be honest, I can't remember what."
They were interrupted by a loud, insistent knocking at the door. Obito sighed and pushed off the doorframe. Curious, Kakashi followed him out. "Scram," he told the ninken. The lounge was suddenly filled with several pops and bursts of smoke. All except Pakkun who yawned, his jowls flapping.
"Obito! I know you're in there! Open up! I wanna see him!"
Kakashi froze.
He knew that voice.
"I'm coming, woman! Gods..."
The lock barely clicked open before a red haired woman in a swaying white dress burst through the door, several bags bunched in her hands. "Where is he? Where— oh." She dropped the bags to the floor. Her grey eyes found Kakashi and they widened as she sucked in a large gasp.
"Kushina," Kakashi breathed.
Suddenly she was there, pulling him into a tight hug that left him breathless. His arms worked automatically to bring them around her back and he buried his face in her neck. She smelt exactly the same. Her hair was as red as he remembered and just as long, done up in a drooping bun. Kakashi felt small in her arms.
Kushina pulled back, her eyes moist. She cupped his cheek. "Look at you. All grown up. And taller than me." She laughed and his heart ached.
"Kushina, I..." he wanted to apologise but the words stopped themselves. She wouldn't understand.
"It's alright," she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I don't care. You're here now. I hope you know that I'm not about to leave you alone. You're coming to dinner. Every week. Understand?"
Kakashi nodded, his throat uncomfortably tight.
Behind her, Obito watched them both. He caught Kakashi's eye, dark and warm. Kakashi's heart gave a hard, unexpected thump at the sight.
He extricated himself from Kushina when he suddenly noticed another head poking around Obito's shoulder.
Naruto.
The teenager peered at his mother and Kakashi curiously before he cocked his head, scrunching up his face. He too, looked exactly the same, so much that it floored him. From the whisker marks on his cheeks to the gaudy orange in his clothes. Naruto appeared more casual than his usual choice of outfit; a loose jacket and standard trousers. But he was just as tall, and it briefly crossed Kakashi's mind that it likely meant that the same amount of time had passed in this world and the one he left behind.
At least this world's Naruto wasn't fighting for his life on the floor of some grimy cave.
"So, this is dad's old student? The one that everyone thought died?"
Kushina perked. Though her eyes were still watery, she straightened and placed her hands on Kakashi's shoulders like he was being presented to an audience. "Yep! This here is Hatake Kakashi. He's been working under Lord Danzō's since, uh, since he disappeared." That was one way to put it.
"Yo," Kakashi greeted, lazily waving two fingers.
"Danzō? That crusty old council dude?"
"The crusty old council dude," Kakashi confirmed, nodding sagely.
"Huh." Naruto suddenly grinned, pushing around Obito to hold out his hand. "Uzumaki Naruto! I've heard a load about you, by the way. Ma, Dad, Uncle 'Bito and Auntie Rin talk about you all the time."
Acts just the same too. The same grin was plastered to his mother's face. It wasn't hard to see where he received encouragement.
"Do they now?" Kakashi raised an eyebrow in Obito's direction. The man looked abashed before he hefted a shoulder in a shrug. Something sad passed over his eye. Kakashi cleared his throat. "Mah, well, it looks like I have some catching up to do. I hope they only told you good things."
"Uncle 'Bito said you had a stick up your ass when you guys were young." Obito choked, coughing into his fist. Kakashi bit back his chuckle. "But mostly that you were really strong and were a genius and stuff. Did you really make your own jutsu when you were a kid?"
So this Kakashi also created Chidori. Probably. "Sure did."
Naruto's eyes brightened in an instant. "Oh man, could you show me?"
"Ah—"
"Naruto, leave him alone. He's only just arrived," Kushina scowled, shooing her son away. "He can tell you all about his jutsu at dinner on Saturday." She turned to eye Kakashi. "You're coming on Saturday, by the way." He replied with a dutiful nod.
"What's all this?" Obito asked, prodding the hoard of plastic bags with a toe.
"What's it look like? Food. Supplies. Rin bought most of it, and I got the rest. Because we both know you didn't bother or remember to do any kind of shopping to prepare for Kakashi's arrival." Obito gave her that, looking thoroughly admonished.
Kushina coerced Obito into making her tea with the order that he do his duty as host. Grumbling, he pulled a box from the back of his cupboard, brewing a cup for her and Kakashi while Naruto poked at Pakkun. A vanilla blend — Kushina's favourite. He remembered the hot smell of it every time he visited the young couple's home and how the smell stuck to her when she arrived at the training grounds loaded with bento boxes. This time he took the offered privacy to pull down his mask and swipe at the tea when their eyes were averted, savouring the taste. It wheedled something soft within him, even if he hadn't appreciated the sweetness of it as a child.
Naruto was subsequently tasked with helping Obito unpack the plastic bags. They didn't get far until they turned to roughhousing in the kitchen, the Uchiha man playfully whacking at Naruto's belly and sides, comical impressions of pain coming out of both their mouths. The sight of it caused some unexpected grief in Kakashi for the Obito of his own world. He never got the chance to have this. By the look of them, he and Naruto would have been good together, practically the same loud, brash boys with something to prove. There was a light in Obito's eye as he played and a wide grin that showed his teeth and a loud laugh that came as Naruto scowled at an unfair jab. Of course the two of them would find common ground. Obito had formed a relationship with Naruto that Kakashi had never been capable of.
He felt a touch to his shoulder. Kushina was smiling at him, her eyes moist again and her features soft. Up close, he could see the crows feet formed at the edges of her eyes. The fine lines around her mouth. The few strands of grey in her hair. "Are you alright? You look a little lost."
Kakashi nodded, but it felt weak. "I'll be fine."
She squeezed his shoulder, dropping her hand to rub along the plane of his back. It felt too familiar for their first encounter with one another but Kushina didn't seem to care. And neither did he. Instead, he found himself content. She no more minded it when he leaned into her touch.
They continued to watch Naruto and Obito, the conversation turned into boasting on the blond boy's part as he harked about outdoing several 'Uchiha bastards' at a group sparring session which caused Obito's grin to become even more severe.
Kushina snorted softly. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she whipped around to face Kakashi. "Oh yeah! Something came for you." She patted herself down before seeking out her handbag and retrieving a paper envelope. "It came to Minato addressed to Koji. From a friend."
Curious, Kakashi peeled open the flap of the letter. The name 'Koji' had been inscribed on the front in neat strokes that seemed familiar. Oh.
It was a letter from Kaishun. The medic-nin from Kijima.
Mr. Koji,
I write with the sincere hope that you have found your way to safety. And I write with the sincere hope that you have been treated with the compassion you deserve. And even the hope that perhaps those arms you have found safety in have given you the help you needed.
I would not blame any confusion on your part as to why I am writing this letter, given how brief our meeting. You must forgive me for I was taken by you the moment you found your way to me. I was compelled to aid you and in seeing to you, I had no doubt of your heritage.
A long time ago now, I had a comrade. We had come to know each other well during the First War, you see. I still think on him from time to time. Honourable. Compassionate. Even in the face of boys being hardened into men by war, such as we were. Rare are men like Hatake Karitoru, Mr. Koji, and in you perhaps it shook off something dusty and forgotten in these old bones. You have such a likeness in look I couldn't help but be caught in surprise (Although you are far skinnier and in possession of a face not quite so marred by that endlessly exasperated frown of his. Hah!). In truth, I owe Toru several times over and I would like to think at least one debt has been repaid by helping a member of his clan. And yes, again, I can tell your origin, given the frequency in which your clanmates would rotate through my medical tent during the war. Voracious, the lot of you.
But do not think I did not help you simply because of my long list of debts. I think you a kind man, Mr. Koji. And I think you have a part to play still in whatever is to come. My last sincere hope is that you find whatever it is you're looking for.
Do not hesitate to write me if you find yourself taken by the fancy. I would much like to hear from you.
Sincerely,
Senju Kaishun
Kakashi let out a quiet huff of laughter, turning to look in the direction of Kusa in the kitchen window. Thank you, Kaishun. What a chance that he would meet an old friend and comrade of his grandfather of all people. Kakashi looked at his grandfather's name, sparing him a thought. He didn't recall much, only the impression of a large and warm presence. Hatake Karitoru had died suddenly when he was a newborn. Perhaps, in the end, it had been of heartbreak as the clan head was forced to witness his people reduced to nothing by violence and loss of one war then another. All Kakashi had of them now were names and deeds written on scrolls and sepia photographs pasted into books. He had always thought that his father and grandfather must have endured a crueller kind of loss than Kakashi ever did.
"Only good things, I hope?" Kushina asked as Kakashi tucked the letter away.
He patted the letter hidden in the breast pocket of his flak jacket and let the pricks of memory fade. "Good things do tend to come from friends," he replied, his eye crinkling.
Minato stood alone in the hallway, trying to hold himself back from slumping against the wall. The lines of his jaw locked painfully, seized in tension. Minato breathed steadily in attempt to release some of it, shoving a hand into the pocket of his haori to finger one of the pronged kunai there. He felt a weight in the opposite pocket; the ink had made the paper within as heavy as lead in a way that a formally written letter from Fugaku only could. The Uchiha had done it. He hadn't even approached Danzō yet and already they knew. He should have approached Danzō beforehand. What a fool.
It had only been a single day. It worried him just how much Konoha could leak like a sieve when there was a good enough secret to be told.
He pulled out the crumpled letter to read it again. A formal inquest by the Uchiha clan head on the grounds that one Hatake Kakashi had been sighted in the presence of the Head's second cousin, Uchiha Obito. We have come to understand that Hatake possesses the Uchiha clan's dojutsu in the place of his left eye. The kanji that made up the sentence was irritably neat. The letter continued, expressing a shallow kind of concern at Kakashi's reappearance with which Fugaku was sure there was an 'appropriate explanation'. But there did not appear to be one for why the man possessed a sharingan. And therefore, he expressed, he has called on the council ahead of their usual meetings to support a petition for the Uchiha to in turn call on Hatake Kakashi to answer questions posed by the clan's elders.
Minato glared at the words. He kept himself from flipping the page where he would be once again greeted with the written and signed support of near every damned clan head on the council. And even a few that weren't.
I've been a fool. A fool, thinking he could handle this quietly. The fault was entirely on his part and Minato kicked himself for it. He'd been so blindsided by the joy of having Kakashi back — even if it wasn't quite their Kakashi — that he hadn't committed himself to all the proper considerations he should have. I've let my emotions get to me, he thought with a resigned sigh. Poor form for a master shinobi.
And now he had to act fast.
Minato straightened, setting his mouth.
He left the empty hallway, rounding the corner to open the door leading to the atrium and stairwell of the upper tier of the Hokage Tower. An ANBU stood guard outside, back so ramrod straight her shoulders trembled with tension. A girl, newly trained, and by the look of her perhaps only seventeen or so. The same age as when Obito and Rin joined. She startled at his presence but gathered herself quickly, giving him a stiff salute. "Lord Hokage."
"Good morning. Your name?"
"Naību, sir."
"Naību, would you do me a favour? Will you please inform Lord Danzō that I'd like to meet for tea?"
The Shimura clan compound spoke of old shinobi nobility in every dressed stone and every carved pillar.
It held fast to tradition in its refusal to modernise. As Minato walked the grounds, it felt as though he had walked right into the distant past. The soaring gate above the entrance and the expanse of the compound were as old as Konoha itself. Yet somewhere in the southern lands of Fire, there was a Shimura palace centuries older. Here the Shimura clan had achieved that grandeur in miniature. As a boy, Minato had wondered what it would have been like to be born to a wealthy shinobi clan and grow up in such a place. The Sarutobi, the Akimichi, the Nara, all with a wealth of history and knowledge and kinship behind them. It had made the small room he had occupied in the orphanage and then his own hovel of an apartment seem hollow, dim, and grey. The compounds he had passed on the way to the academy appeared to him like leaning mountains, watching outsiders as they walked on. The village had not been created by the clanless, after all. But it had created clanless children.
As Minato was led to the oldest house on the grounds, he found himself surrounded on all sides by elaborate rock gardens and the manicured bowers of hanging trees. Little secluded hideaways formed gaps in walls, linked by thin gravelled paths. He passed and spied a pair of women in Shimura colours, holding parasols in their dainty hands. In another, an old man sat with a younger one, their heads bowed together as they spoke secretively. It felt to Minato like being within a den of secrets, with eyes hidden amongst the finery. Eerily empty, for being the central hub of an old clan. He had only been here once previously and it had been no different shrouded in darkness and guided by lantern light than it was in the morning sun.
The mousy boy that led him couldn't be older than nine or ten and he had nothing of the likeness of Danzō, nor any Shimura Minato had met with his rich caramel blond hair. A household servant and in Danzō's pocket. A member of ROOT, regardless of his age. An older woman greeted them at the entrance to the old house, wordlessly inviting them to remove their footwear in the genkan which the boy did with mute, graceful motions. He said no words to his older colleague as he set forth. At the shoji of the washitsu, he fell to sit on his thighs and slid the door back. Scrambling inside, he sat once again and bowed so low to the old man seated behind a low table that his brow scraped the tatami mat.
"My Lord," the boy said, practically a whisper, "the Lord Hokage is here to see you."
"Invite the good Hokage in," the Shimura clan head rumbled, taking a sip of his tea. Already started before me. That wasn't lost on Minato. The boy shuffled to place a cushion before he skittered back to the threshold and bowed to the Hokage. As Minato seated himself, the shoji closed once again, whisper quiet. The mouse boy was gone.
The washitsu was sparse with little in the way of furniture and decor, but the walls were formed from beautifully decorated screens adhered to the timber boards behind. Separated into panels, a stylised forest had been painted in rich, delicate colours. Creatures — natural and supernatural both — could be found between the interwoven roots and beneath the hanging branches that curled and warped around one another so that it was difficult to see where one tree ended and another began. Minato spied a fox peeping between long threads of grass under a shroud of leaves; hiding from the snarling and snapping hounds loping across the previous panels in a rousing hunt. Kodama emerged like spores from the trees. Above them all, the gods watched down from the heavens. Amaterasu stood front and centre, the goddess's expression serene. Each panel was a masterwork and the patches of dulled paint dotted with brighter sections suggested the screens had been attentively retouched over the long years.
Kaikei stood behind Danzo's shoulder, stiff in his usual stance, his hands tucked at the small of his back. He was motionless — a formidable impression of a statue — if not for how the light breeze drifting in from the shoji open to the garden tugged at the long hem of his overcoat.
"Lord Danzō," Minato greeted, dipping his head politely. "And greetings to you too, Kaikei." Danzō gave no greeting but the polite smile that tugged at his jowls. Kaikei, at least, dipped his head in return.
"Good day to you Lord Hokage," he greeted, falling further to give a short bend at the waist.
"I must say, Lord Danzō, the Shimura gardens are looking lovely. Your servants have been hard at work."
"They are, as always. Skilled as they are loyal to the clan and ever more loyal to their work. As must yours be, I presume."
"Ah, I don't keep house servants," Minato corrected, keeping his chin high.
"My apologies. I should have known better. You are a man to take matters into his own hands after all and see to his duty in all things. It should be of no surprise that extends to your household."
"Even I need helping hands, Lord Danzō."
"A novelty I'm sure, Lord Hokage."
Minato kept his twitch to himself. "You think so? Many eyes and many hands make lighter work." He accepted the tea Kaikei diligently moved to pour him. "For example, we have a new shinobi joining our ranks. You've doubtlessly heard of his arrival."
"Hatake Kakashi. Yes, quite unexpected. Nevertheless, the Hatake always were an enduring breed. Though time has managed to whittle them down. Unexpected but not surprising, one of them managed to survive." He moved to tuck his hands in his heavy sleeves. "I do not miss the irony in it. The actions of the father caused the ripples of the war we have endured for so long and now the actions of the son could yet stir its drums once again. The Hatake always were the kind of smallfolk to invite conflict beyond them. Even if it led to their demise in the past. Or at least, so I have heard."
So there was no secret in Kakashi's involvement to the master of ROOT. No point in beating around the bush then.
"That's not going to happen."
Danzō cocked his head, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth. "Oh?"
"No," Minato insisted. "While I'm not naive to the pressing political consequences of Kakashi's involvement, our adversaries are still firmly in the dark on that front. This being from what the intelligence reports have stated. Therefore, we have a chance to nip this issue in the bud while everything is still in hand."
"Is it in hand?"
"It is." Minato took a pointed sip of his tea. "I am aware ROOT has been giving the likes of the Blackguard, other Iwan forces, and Kusa the run around. I have made sure to help in that endeavour and with keeping Kiri at bay as well, as sly as they are. I would say it is in everyone's current interests that we clamp down on this and control the situation to our liking. For the good of Konoha."
Danzō hummed, his expression contemplative. "Just so."
"Hatake Kakashi may help us understand more about what happened."
In a drawn out, conscious effort, the old man thread his fingers together above the rim of his cup. Danzō was ancient enough that his eyelid drooped heavily and the skin beneath his remaining eye swelled with a sagging puffiness, dotted as much with liver spots as the rest of his face. But the dark eye beneath was sharp and even elderly, Shimura Danzō was a tiger keen to scrutinise an opportunity in his sights.
"And what, pray tell, did happen? I am sure the young Hatake has informed you."
This was it. Minato chewed on the cud of revealing such a dire and vast secret. But it was necessary for securing Danzō's commitment. For the village and for Kakashi.
"The Hatake Kakashi currently in the village is from an alternate world similar to our own. In his world, a terrorist group going by the name of Akatsuki had gathered all the Jinchūriki of the Grand Yōkai and removed their beasts into some sort of man-made vessel to use at their discretion. Kakashi, possessing the power of Uchiha Obito's Mangekyō sharingan, took the vessel into the Kamui dimension to destroy it. But, as you know, that didn't have quite the intended result that Kakashi had aimed for. He was ejected with the Demon Star into our world. And, here we are."
Danzō hummed, amused. "My, that is quite the story. Wouldn't you say Kaikei?" The man in the noh mask nodded though his master didn't turn to check if he was in agreement. "Luck is with us then that such a thing could never occur again in our own world."
Minato wasn't sure what he had expected. He would have thought information of that magnitude would have incited a little more of a reaction, but then again, he had never known the man to act surprised at anything.
"I'm sure, Lord Danzō, that you could see how this might reflect badly on our village? Worse, should Kakashi or this information fall into the wrong hands? This must stay in Konoha."
Danzō appraised him, saying nothing.
Minato wet his lips. "I would ask something of you, my lord. I would ask that you support me in my handling of this. I will not have Kakashi locked away underground for the rest of his life or hidden behind a porcelain mask. I would have him rejoin us and provide us freely with information and support in quietly righting this wrong. But to achieve that, he needs a story to support him — a believable one. Let it be with ROOT. I know you to be a man who understands what is at stake. You have never flinched from doing what needs to be done — a trait I believe we share. We need to fix this; alleviate this tension and get eyes off Konoha being involved. The Demon Star was a tragic accident. Let it simply be that." Minato tipped his cup to look into the brown dregs of tea that settled at the bottom. "I had heard that ROOT had been investigating the possibility that a group was involved in the creation of the Demon Star. Could they not still be?" He set the cup down and faced Danzō with a challenge, "will you do what is for the good of Konoha?"
The elderly man stared at Minato for a long moment that stretched as tight as a cord. Minato swallowed a growing sense of desperation. Outside, the trees rustled and swayed together and a stronger wind pressed against the paper linings of the shoji.
"I will always act in the interests of this nation," said Danzō softly. "For seventy years my loyalty has not wavered. And it never shall. I was born to the fulfilment of the dream of the great Shodai, served under the wisdom of my sensei, and walked to prosperity in the arm of my friend." A grave and grim sort of gravity held the old man's words and the raw honesty of it held Minato in place. "My meaning and my purpose is in the fulfilment of my duty to Konoha. To its people."
"Then we are in agreement," Minato stated, willing his voice to stay even. "You understand what is at stake."
"What is at stake is never far from my thoughts, Namikaze Minato. I commit myself — and shall continue to commit myself to seeing that Konoha prospers. And that its enemies are not granted the victory they salivate like dogs over."
Relief struck the pit of Minato's belly. "Thank you, Lord Danzō." Solemn, Danzō inclined his head.
As Minato was led from the Shimura compound as the sun was coming to its peak in the sky, the petition in his pocket felt far lighter than when he went in.
Saturday evening was cooler than expected as Kakashi and Obito wandered down the lane that led to the Namikaze-Uzumaki home. Kakashi appreciated the warm cast of the soft glow from the balcony lights along the street as they trailed along, kicking up the dust of the past days that had been too dry even if the heat had relented a fraction. Crickets had replaced the cicadas and they chirped in tandem, taking charge of the quiet neighbourhood.
It had been a strange few days — stranger, even, than before. Neither he nor Obito quite knew how to act around one another, despite whatever banter they could manage to settle into. Kakashi watched him from the corner of his eye, the other man's gaze cast to his shoes and the scrape of his sandals; caught in whatever was going on in his head. Quickly, they found they didn't quite know what to talk to one another about and Kakashi had concluded that perhaps both of them were still too stunned at the other's presence. Playful jabs filled the awkwardness; jutsu. Idle talk. He learnt that Obito and Rin had joined ANBU at the age of seventeen and Obito had been distraught to find that Kakashi had beaten them by three years. He learned that Obito had been captain of Team Hi and chose to retire. Obito learned that Kakashi had been captain of Team Ro and was encouraged to resign. The man had chuckled, his amusement deepening when Kakashi admitted to ruthlessly failing genin teams and confessed that he probably would have done the same. Kakashi omitted that it was exactly Obito's nindo which had led him to fail the teams in the first place.
He learned that this Obito still loved sweet things and Obito learned that eggplant was indeed a favourite of Kakashi's, even going out of his way to cook a round of miso with it. A round of miso with burnt eggplant. Kakashi had been sure to dutifully inform him and received a salt shaker thrown at his head in return.
Whatever awkward dance they decided on, they had eventually found some kind of rhythm. There were some things Kakashi didn't recognise in the man he walked beside. Maturity. Contemplation. The loud, brash boy was missing day to day, only to be revealed in small moments. Truthfully, he couldn't be sure that with this Obito, that boy was even there in the first place.
They were strangers. Years and worlds apart.
He caught Obito looking sometimes, an unreadable expression in the pull of his brows. It was there that Kakashi also caught a wariness. He didn't blame him. Perhaps that was what held him back and what kept their talks from descending into anything serious or daring to touch more delicate topics. Obito seemed to have caught Rin's own wariness to reveal too much. At this point, Kakashi had aggravatingly come to accept it. He could pursue finding the truth through his own means but something kept him back. A trust that things would be revealed in time.
The Namikaze-Uzumaki abode was set right at the end of the lane, nestled between a pair of enormous oak trees that leaned heavily over the house. Stood on stilts over craggy stone walls, it had obviously replaced an older home; more modern in its rounded curves and displaced angles. A mansion, for all intents, but not the Hokage mansion the Sandaime had inhabited; the Shodai and Nidaime before him. Neither was it the house Kakashi remembered, back when Minato and Kushina had been dating and then newlyweds.
Rin opened the front door set at the crown of a stairway of old stone. She hurried them in, stealing the bottle of umeshu they brought with a bright, tight smile.
"Hurry up you two. Dinner's nearly ready and you've missed half the entertainment that's gone into making it."
"We lost track of time."
Rin was unimpressed. "No you didn't, you just couldn't be bothered to come any earlier. Or you fell asleep."
"Alright. Alright," Obito moaned, slapping away her teasing hand that threatened to jab at him.
"Kakashi's making you fall into old habits." She grinned at the grey haired man and prodded him in the side with the head of the bottle. The grin didn't quite reach her eyes.
"He fell asleep on the couch. I had to kick him awake." Kakashi shrugged heavily. Obito's occasional sleepy grunt aside, he had managed to get some reading in without the other man interrupting. A small win for both of them. "Are we going to get to drink any of that?" he challenged. He received an expression of mock hurt from both parties.
Rin waved them through to the kitchen where two-thirds of the Hokage family struggled at a harried pace. Naruto lazed back on his chair as his parents bent around one another, checking the sizzling pots and pans. Minato wielded his wooden spoon like a polearm, stabbing and stirring this pan and that, while Kushina was in possession of an almost deadly focus on the boiling pot in front of her, poised to turn off the burner at exactly the right moment.
The Hokage greeted them with a hurried wave of his spoon. "Come in! I'm sorry it's not quite ready. We had everything planned this afternoon, then—" he glanced at his wife and seemingly thought the better of what he was about to say. "We started a bit late. Uh, make yourselves at home. We'll be a moment."
Obito waved him off, moving to ruffle Naruto's hair. "What's happening, brat?" he asked, slapping his hands on the teen's shoulders. "Any good missions?"
Kakashi moved himself off, content to find a spot and watch until Rin reappeared at his side, handing over a cup of Obito's umeshu. She took a sip as she watched the controlled chaos happening from behind the benchtop. It's like nothing's changed. Different house. A blond addition. A few more grey hairs. But it was the same. And that, to Kakashi, felt offensively strange.
Rin roughly wiped her mouth after she tipped the rest of her drink down. Pointedly, she asked, "want a cigarette?"
Kakashi raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a medic?"
"Was a medic. And so? They're wellness sticks. Come on, I want to hear all about that book I bought for you — if it's any good."
It'd been some time since he touched the things, but Kakashi followed her out the sliding glass door to the balcony that overlooked the dark, chirping garden. Genma used to hand one of his over after a hard mission in ANBU when everyone was stressed to the high heavens. It had brought a rush that never failed to ground him when quietly smoked in the locker rooms, the gazes of his teammates distant and glazed. He was well enough to conjure a small flame between his hands and the tight welling of smoke felt unexpectedly good in his lungs. Instinctively, Rin looked away and Kakashi had to give her another nudge to insist that she was welcome to look.
"The book isn't as good as Icha Icha," he said, letting out a ream of smoke into the creaking night.
"Tragic," Rin replied sardonically.
Their conversation ended there. Instead of being stumped at its suddenness, Kakashi found peace in the long drags of smoke. Whatever was going through her head, he wouldn't intrude. She's here. That's enough. It was a simple thought — obvious in all respects. And everytime, it hit him in some fundamental core. As the smoke wafted from the tip of Rin's cigarette, an impression came upon Kakashi that Rin was wracked with the strange sameness of this as he was.
Later corralled back inside, dinner turned out to be... somewhat undercooked. And when he lay in bed later that night with his thoughts on the evening, Kakashi unequivocally decided that it had been the best meal he had eaten in a long time.
Minato and Kushina were generous with their time as well as the array of food they had put the effort in to cook. The dining room and its long table had been set with a delicious arrangement. Pork cutlets in sauce, fish curry, chicken that looked spicy enough to kill a man — and he could be sure that was what Kushina had made for herself, though he saw Obito dare a piece. It wouldn't be an Uzumaki dinner without ramen. By the look, there were at least three different types. All three of which Naruto had set in front of himself, steadily making his way through each bowl.
The strange sameness pricked him again. The room held the same laughter, traded the same gossip, and rambled the same sort of anecdotes that left him rolling his eyes in good humour.
Yet it was in the reminiscing that Kakashi was reminded exactly who and what he was.
"Do you remember," Obito began, three cups of sake deep and his voice blurred at the edges, "that mission we had in East Fire. You know the one with that shitt—uh, stuffy little noble boy?"
Several cups of sake down herself, Rin hummed, nodding for him to continue and looking dully at the way he stabbed his chopsticks over the plates.
"Still think about that sometimes." He barked in sudden laughter. "How his father wrung him out in front of the entire court after hearing about how he couldn't shut his mouth or keep his manners about the people protecting him. Wonder if he ever recovered from being forced to apologise and bow at our feet. I tried so hard not to kick him in the jaw. Wonder if he did ever manage to become a lord after that." He looked at Kakashi, his nose scrunched. "What was his name again?"
Kakashi awkwardly cleared his throat. "Afraid I can't help you there."
He snorted. "What? You don't remember?"
"It's been awhile." Kakashi slid a purposeful look to Naruto that Obito failed to catch.
"What? Come on, you must remember. You remember everything."
"Obito," Rin warned, looking suddenly sobered.
The hardness of her inflection shocked him into reality. "Ah. Right." Obito moved on with an embarrassed sip of his drink that was as awkward as Kakashi's pointed look. Unexpectedly, it stung.
"Anyway!" Kushina butt in, waving her hands. "Enough about some stupid mission you went on as genin. I want to hear about your trip to Nagiso, Rin."
The conversation carried and despite being quite left out, Kakashi was all too happy to remain a listener after that awkward blip in mood. At the dinner table, Rin and Obito seemed less concerned that he heard things he shouldn't. He learnt that a civil war had never occurred in Kiri. He learned that the hat had never passed to a fourth Mizukage. He discerned that the country of Rain was a quiet, albeit secretive place and that the land of Tea currently flirted with the creation of a hidden village. Save for his own, plates were emptied and set aside. Minato asked after his week and Kakashi relayed a rather boring set of attempts at training, earning him some sympathy. He caught Naruto making a face from the corner of his uncovered eye: mouth upturned, eyes squinted, and his head cocked like a curious dog.
"Can I help you?" Kakashi asked.
"Where were you, anyway? What mission takes, like, twenty years?"
Ouch, thought Kakashi, I'm not that old. "Mah, that's top secret."
"Awh man, tell me. It can't be a secret anymore, right? You're back, so you must have finished it."
"Naruto, that's not how secret missions work," Obito deadpanned from across the table.
Naruto made noise of indignant frustration. "Whatever." He was about to return to gathering up whatever remained of the food when he stopped. Kakashi could almost see the new thought form in his head as the boy straightened his back. He turned to his father.
"What is it?" Minato caught with a bemused smile before his son could open his mouth.
"So I maybe heard about a mission from Kiba that's going that's gonnabeinTeaandit'ssupereasy so I thought that maybewecouldmakeateam with Shikamaru, Kiba, and Choji and go?"
"No."
"What?! Come on, it's supposed to just be guard duty!"
Kakashi looked on curiously as Minato's expression flattened. "No, Naruto. No missions outside fire until you're seventeen. That's the law."
That was new. That was very new. He put a law in place to protect the kids? He supposed there was some logic to it besides that. Keep your less experienced shinobi within the country to support the war but don't send them to be ground up on the frontline. That hadn't even been a consideration for Hiruzen during his own Third War. Or Tsunade, Kakashi added quietly. It was a change from the Minato he knew as well — the one who hadn't hesitated putting the likes of Itachi and himself in ANBU at a young age. Next to her husband, Kushina raised her chin, looking pleased. So that law might just have been Kushina's influence, rather than Sensei's.
"I'll be seventeen in a couple of months! Who's gonna notice?"
"The Hokage will notice," Minato replied with a raised eyebrow. And everyone who has their eye on the Hokage's family, Kakashi added for him.
Naruto huffed, but didn't fight his father further. An old argument then, and one the teenager knew there was little point in pushing. Kakashi barely had a moment to pick up his chopsticks when he was back under scrutiny.
"Why do you wear that mask all the time?"
Internally, Kakashi sighed. The chopsticks returned to the bowl. "I started wearing it as a kid because I saw a powerful shinobi wearing one and I wanted to be taken seriously like him," he answered honestly. He shrugged. "The habit stuck."
"That's it? No gross scars or fish lips or weird teeth?"
"Sorry to disappoint, but that's it."
Across the table, Kushina nodded, tapping her cheek. "Oh yeah, I remember seeing you once with Sakumo before you started wearing it. You had the cutest chubby cheeks. I tried to say hello but you hid behind your dad the whole way."
Obito snorted. "I don't believe you. Kakashi came out of the womb stone-faced, covered in blood, and criticising the medic-nin for poor technique."
"Ew. Gross, Uncle." Another thought pinged in Naruto's head. "Wait, Hatake Sakumo? You mean the White Fang was your dad?!"
At least this Naruto seemed to know a little more about history. And perhaps by his enthusiasm, in this world his father wasn't so despised. Kakashi hoped so. He desperately hoped so. "Sure was."
"Oh man, that's so cool! What was he like? I heard he had this super cool tanto like Uncle 'Bito's. Do you have it? Wait, do you use it?"
"Naruto, you really ought to ask one thing at a time or no one will be able to answer anything."
"Whaddya mean? I'm just asking. I've never met anyone related to the White Fang before, why wouldn't I ask?!"
"You're overwhelming poor Kakashi."
While they were distracted, Kakashi took the opportunity to tug down his mask and swallow back the rest of his meal. Having seen it, Minato laughed behind his hand. His son turned, his eyes bright and stopped dumbstruck, looking at the last watery remains of Kakashi's bowl.
"Wha— How'd you do that?!"
"That's also a secret." Rin bit her lip at his response. Obito sniggered.
Naruto squinted at him, suspicious. "Was that some kind of jutsu?"
"Did you sense me using any chakra?"
"Well, no, but you're supposed to be really good and stuff." Another ping. "Hey! You promised to show me that jutsu you made! Now that dinner's done, I wanna see it!"
"No can do. Wouldn't want to mess up the Hokage's nice garden. I'll show you sometime kid, I promise, just not now."
Naruto gave a disappointed moan and he dramatically slumped against the table. "Man, it's cool you made your own jutsu so young."
Coming upon his own thought, Kakashi cocked his head. "Haven't you also made your own jutsu?"
Like he had flicked a switch, Naruto's face instantly paled. "How... how do you know about that?" he asked, eyes wide.
Kakashi held up his hands. "Mah, just a rumour. You hear about all sorts in ROOT."
The others at the table looked quite confused.
"You never told me you made a jutsu," Rin said. She appeared a little put-off at the fact that Kakashi apparently knew something she didn't.
Caught red-handed, a flush formed on Naruto's face, spreading from his hairline to collarbone and out to the tips of his ears. Kakashi tried not to laugh.
"That's wonderful, Naruto!" Minato said. His mouth wrinkled around his smile. "Let's see it, then. Do you need some space? We could go outside, as you said."
Kushina's eyes shined. "You never told me either! We have to see it, come on," she encouraged. She pushed herself up from her seat, flapping her hand for them all to join her. Naruto withered in his chair, going impossibly redder.
"It—it's not finished yet. Ah—" He whipped his head to look over the back of the chair to the row of windows lining the edge of the lounge room beyond. "A-anyway, I just remembered that I was going to meet the guys." He launched himself with a quickness Kakashi had rarely seen in the boy, darting over to the windows to promptly make his escape. "Thanks for the dinner, it was great, bye."
Kushina's mouth fell open. "Wh— Naruto! Where are you going?! You were going to help with the dishes!" But her son had already jumped into the night, the window smacking heavily behind him.
Bewildered, those at the table looked to Kakashi who had turned his head to the side to hide his quiet laughter. He coughed into his fist. "Let's just say that it's a jutsu best seen after everyone's had a few more bottles of sake."
Her jaw still slack, Kushina eyed the window her son had disappeared through. "That little shit," she whispered, amazed.
With Naruto's exit stage left, the dishes fell to everyone else. Though he packed them together and helped remove them to the kitchen, Kakashi was shooed back towards the dining room, along with Minato and Rin. And with Naruto gone, there was no longer the need to hold their tongues.
"Just so you know," said Minato, straightening in his chair, "I intend to induct you into the roster sooner rather than later, at this point. Doubtless you've figured out you've already been seen. Any more suspicion will do us no good and I'd rather not have you constantly looking over your shoulder. The Council knows, but the Jōnin League will also be told. Your backstory with ROOT will hold. I've spoken with Lord Danzō. He understands the stakes."
The admission didn't ease Kakashi as it should. There was always a price with Shimura Danzō. He hoped whatever Minato paid wasn't severe. Neither did the hesitancy in Minato's tone lighten spirits and when pushed, Minato didn't shield them from it. "The Uchiha have petitioned the Council about your eye. And they have support to seek answers from you."
There it was, then. In all honesty, Kakashi was surprised it had taken a week. When he had arrived back from that fateful mission with Obito's eye in his head the first time. He barely had two days to recover before he was dragged in front of Fugaku and the withered dumplings the Uchiha called elders.
"Surely you can intervene until we come up with proper support for Kakashi," said Rin.
Minato shook his head. "I'm afraid it's out of my hands. If I were to veto this, it wouldn't help my case with Kakashi's freedom. Nor would it win me any favours. I'm sorry." He placed a hand on Kakashi's bicep and squeezed. "Know that I will help you where I can."
"As I said, I have an idea of how this will go. The circumstances may be different, but if Danzō has agreed then I'm sure it'll work out." It was said with far more confidence than Kakashi felt. He still remembered the day Danzō had come to him as he stood in the cemetery, the sun sinking below the horizon. The loneliest time of day and the loneliest moment of Kakashi's life. The ask had seemed gentle then and the offer without shadows. Kakashi quickly learnt to know better. But if Minato could speak on Danzō's support without hesitation, then perhaps he should give his sensei the benefit of the doubt. This truly could be a different man.
"It will," affirmed Minato.
The serious mood was broken by the snap of cloth followed by a girlish yelp. Bemused, Minato leaned back in his chair to look around the angle of the kitchen door. Another snap cracked in the air and the squeak that accompanied it sounded strained.
"Kushina's towel-whipping Obito," said Minato, rolling his eyes.
Another snap. This one drew forth a dark hiss, a deep laugh, and an undeniably feminine voice calling the other a 'cheating one-eyed bastard.' Obito must have used his sharingan.
Behind her last cup of umeshu, Rin smiled, a contentedness smoothing the tension he had sensed at the start of the night. Behind his mask, Kakashi found himself smiling too. He leaned back and enjoyed the scent of vanilla blend tea.