Kakashi stood at the stove in a T-shirt and sweatpants and fried eggs. Usually, he and his father missed each other in the morning because Kakashi had to go to school before Sakumo came home from work. Kakashi was of the opinion that if he stayed at home, he could also spoil his father with breakfast or dinner for him, and thus create a good basis to finally tell the truth.

Just as Kakashi took the sizzling pan off the stove, he heard the flat door. He poured a portion of scrambled eggs and bacon on two plates and placed them on the table.

At the unexpected sight, Sakumo stopped in the door frame, puzzled. "Kakashi?" he asked in a languid voice. The dark circles under his eyes were even deeper than usual, or Kakashi had forgotten HOW tired his father looked after a shift. He demonstratively pushed the plate on Sakumo's place. "Morning, Dad. I made breakfast."

"I can see that," his father replied and came closer, put his small shoulder bag, in which he was transporting sandwiches and his book for the long breaks, on the couch right next to the door. "Why are you here? It's already past eight. Shouldn't you have been on your way to school by now? Or have the holidays already begun? But.. No, today is Thursday. Or is it?"

"Yes, today is Thursday.." Kakashi looked at his father for a long time. After his military service and the death of his wife, he had spent the last nine years jumping from job to job, never staying anywhere for more than a few months. The work in the factory was exhausting, especially on the night shift, but Sakumo fought his way through because he earned comparatively well because of the bonuses, although it was still scarce on all corners. For two years, he had been paying for Kakashi's uniforms and refectory fees, not to mention private catering and clothing. For all this he owed him the truth, but he just couldn't. He couldn't see in those tormented eyes that it was all in vain, that he had failed, that he really was a mistake. He tore himself away from his father's face and stared at the tablecloth without really seeing it. "We have no lessons today and tomorrow. I was a bit upset by the thing yesterday with Kina, I only remembered with the alarm clock today."

"Oh? It was different last year, you had to study until the last minute." Sakumo laughed softly, sounding a bit spiteful. "Has the elite ever realized that you also have to relax?"

"Well, no idea, I don't know why they decided that. Maybe they were just through with the material earlier than expected or something." Why did Kakashi actually feel the need to justify himself? The Kensington meant nothing to him anymore. If his father were to rant about the stubborn snobs, he couldn't care less. He sighed. "Sit down, Dad, or the eggs will get cold."

Already at the first fork, Sakumo grumbled enthusiastically. "Mh, well, Kakashi, honestly, you're getting better at cooking every time. Perfect amount of milk, salt, herbs. If you wanted to, you could go straight into gastronomy. You would make a good chef."

"It's just eggs, Dad, nothing special. And I learned from the best," Kakashi replied absently. There it was again: the topic of 'future'. Was it time to discuss certain things..?

"From whom?" Sakumo asked, bringing Kakashi out of his thoughts. He looked up confused, his jaw muscles stopped the chewing process and he blinked a few times. "From you, Dad. Yeah, a little bit from Mum too, but I didn't keep that much from back then. You taught me the most."

"Oh," Sakumo said and seemed completely flabbergasted. He smiled timidly. "Of course. Sorry, it's quite possible that I'm more tired than I feared. My brain doesn't work as fast in that state, you know?"

They both threw each other an only superficially amused grin before silence returned.

After a minute, Sakumo muttered into the jingling of the cutlery, "Honestly, I didn't expect you to pay me such a compliment. I think I'm too convinced that you don't think much of me."

Now Kakashi completely forgot about his meal. No afterburn of alcohol, no soul-eating sorrow for Noriko—this in front of him was his father in his purest form. That he thought so little of himself and him was frightening and showed Kakashi once again how broken he actually was. Kakashi dropped his fork and swallowed, after remembering that he had a bite in his mouth. "I think highly of you, Dad." He could say no more; on the one hand, because a lump formed in his throat, and on the other hand, because it suddenly rang loudly. The following banging on the door made the two flinch.

"Who comes at this time and makes such a noise?" grumbled Sakumo.

Kakashi's first thought was Kina, at least she had burst in at the last meal together, but she wouldn't maltreat the door so vehemently. He got up, walked through the hallway and had just pushed the handle into the depths when the wooden edge almost slammed against his forehead and two men pushed him into the jackets at the coat rack.

"Good morning!" warbled the one who had pushed Kakashi aside, and when Kakashi briefly took a look at his physique, he wasn't even angry about it. The guy was an absolute giant, at least two metres tall, broad shoulders, arms and chest, all in a black T-shirt that stretched over his muscles with all its might. Without questioning it, Kakashi would have immediately believed that he was a wrestler or professional bodybuilder. On his comparatively small skull with the pronounced jaw sat a mop of short, dark blue hair. He marched towards the living room without further comment, only giving Kakashi an indifferent look from light grey eyes.

Behind Titan, another man slid into the flat, who could not form a greater contrast to the blue-haired man. He was about the same height as Kakashi and only a few years older, was slender than his buddy, not as angular, under wavy, jet-black hair glowed piercing red eyes with deep shadows that stretched down to his cheeks. In opposite to Titan, his face was so expressionless that it was almost creepy. He also ignored Kakashi mostly and followed the other stranger.

Kakashi checked if there were more people in the stairwell, closed the door and crept to the living room, from where the pervasive voice of Titan was already blowing towards him. "Heyho, Mister Hatake. How are you doing today?"

When Kakashi stepped through the doorway, he saw Titan sitting in his chair, helping himself to his breakfast. Sakumo looked like a horror figure turned to stone. His wide-open eyes darted back and forth between the unexpected guests. "Who are you..?" he asked, barely audible over Titan's chewing sounds.

Titan paused. He thundered the fork onto the plate so violently that Kakashi feared he had broken it. "Oh, please forgive me, sir. How rude of us to just burst in here. May I introduce ourselves? I'm Kisame Hoshigaki and my taciturn colleague is called Itachi Uchiha." He pointed over to Locke, who was leaning unconcerned against the kitchenette. Now Kakashi also understood why the guy reminded him of Obito, they must be related to each other somehow – well, Uchihas, incest and the delusion of pure bloodline, no matter which branch of the clan you poked into. "We are employees of Madara Uchiha and today we are here to collect the money you owe him."

Sakumo's already pale skin turned chalky white. "Is.. Is the week over yet?"

The Titan named Kisame burst into deafening laughter. It took him a few minutes to recover, he wiped his eyes melodramatically and sniffled loudly. "Oh, thank you, sir, that's what I needed this morning. Just purge your facial muscles a little, you know? This world is far too serious."

As he spoke, Locke had turned and a soft click followed by static noise was heard. Metal clonked on metal as he placed the used pan on the gas stove. Kakashi became restless at the sight. He had the feeling that the guy didn't want to make himself a fresh portion of scrambled eggs.

"If your personal time calculation doesn't work differently than that of the rest of the world," Titan continued, "then yes, Mister Hatake, the week is already over. Based on your question" – his voice suddenly became deeper, more threatening, even more frightening, so that panicked goosebumps crept down Kakashi's neck – "that you don't have the money, huh?"

"N-no," Sakumo stammered and when Titan stood up with a jerk, he threw right after, "But I've got a good part, it's all in the bank, I swear it, I just have to—"

Titan broke off Sakumo's excuses with a bloodcurdling knuckle sandwich. Sakumo groaned in pain, held his cheek and didn't even resist when Titan slammed his flat hand onto the tabletop and fixed it there with a firm grip. " 'A good part' is not enough, Mister Hatake."

Without consulting each other, Locke took the hot pan off the stove with the help of a potholder and came ambling calmly around the table. Fear pulsated in Kakashi and too late he realized what was going to happen. As soon as the hissing began, drowned out by Sakumo's hoarse scream, Kakashi bumped his back against the wall, slapped his hand over his nose and mouth, but could still smell burnt flesh.

The hissing stopped, Sakumo whimpered and gasped, and Titan chuckled rumbling. "Don't complain, sir, you've had plenty of time."

"Please.." Sakumo pleaded breathlessly. "I'll get the money."

"Mhhhh, ks ks," Titan said. "Another grace period? After all this time? No, Mister Hatake, Mister Uchiha's patience is at an end. We are not here to endure your begging, but to collect your debts." Suddenly the air in the room changed noticeably, at least that's how it seemed to Kakashi. "You apparently are impervious to warnings, so we need to put them into action." He let go of Sakumo's hand, which snapped protectively at his chest, and his light grey, almost white irises lay on Kakashi.

Eye contact made him ice cold. His ears began to beep and he realized a second too late that he would have been better off spending his school-free time away from home today. He started moving, aimed for the flat door, but he didn't even get as far as the hallway. Titan grabbed him by the collar and dragged him backwards, causing his T-shirt to tear in two lengthwise and slide half over his head. He screamed unintelligible words, kicked his legs wildly and scratched his fingernails over the unyielding back of this firm hand. Titan slammed his skull to the ground, knelt with one leg on his chest, squeezing all the air out of his body, and he was just able to raise his arms above his face before the first fists could hit it.

"Stop it!" Sakumo roared somewhere in the background.

"You've been warned," Titan replied, a little out of breath.

"My son has nothing to do with it! Please!"

The beatings stopped. "Is that so, yes?" asked Titan with a devilish swing in his voice. "Well, your own health doesn't seem to mean enough to you, so we just have to give you a better incentive. As I said, Mister Uchiha is gradually losing patience."

"Please... I'll give you my word, I'll get the money. Just give me a few days, then you have it. All of it."

The weight on Kakashi's sternum lifted a little and he tried to fill his lungs with enough oxygen so as not to lose consciousness. Since the beatings were not resumed, he dared to peek through his aching forearms. Furtively, he watched as Titan and Locke exchanged silent glances. Then Titan stood up and, without even looking at him, pulled Kakashi to his feet by the upper arm. While knocking possible dirt off his bare back, he said, "Monday. Don't think we're not serious. If you don't pay in four days, we won't treat you and your son with kid gloves anymore." Finally, he straightened Kakashi's scraps of clothing on his upper body and clapped his paws on his shoulders. "Almost like new." He nodded proudly and said in the turn, "Enjoy your breakfast, sir, it could be your last solid meal."

Locke, without ever having uttered a sound, walked out of the flat behind Titan. The silence they left behind was so heavy that it could have been cut.

As soon as Kakashi could move again, he plucked the remains of his T-shirt from his body and hurried to his father. "Dad, show me," he murmured softly. His vocal cords were burning, and he hadn't roared nearly as loudly as Sakumo. Panic was still buzzing in his veins, and it didn't get any better when he took his father's injured hand in his and examined the wound. The knuckles were bleeding because the flesh had burned down to the bone, and a watery, bright red spot appeared on the back of the hand, where the skin peeled off white at the edges. "Fuck.. This has to be treated, you have to go to the hospital, I'll just put something on and then I'll drive—"

"No," Sakumo interrupted him firmly. "I won't go to the hospital."

"Dad.." Kakashi said incredulously. "It's not just a scratch. If you don't get it treated, it can end badly, not to mention the scar it will give."

"No," Sakumo repeated and stood up, supporting himself on the table to keep from falling over. He was deathly pale and sweating profusely.

"If you don't want to name the cause, then we're lying," Kakashi suggested half desperately. "We can say that it happened while cooking. You twisted your ankle and landed with your hand on the stove or something."

"Stop it, Kakashi!" Sakumo admonished irritably. Kakashi took a step back because of the unexpected volume.

"Then at least let me dash over to the Maitos and get Dai. If I'm lucky, he hasn't left yet."

Sakumo shook his head, held his trembling arm to his chest, and pushed his son rudely aside. "What about 'no' do you not understand, boy? I'm not going to burden anyone with this issue. That's all my business." He had already arrived at the door frame when Kakashi asked angrily, "And what about me?" He waited until his father had turned around and raised his arms, revealing the dark shadows that were already visible on the undersides. "If it were only your business, I wouldn't look like this. They use me as leverage against you, so you're not all alone in it, even if you would like to. You know that they really come back, don't you? They will make good on their threat. Dad, such an attitude doesn't help us. If you don't have the money, I can help you out. I've saved a little bit and I'll give it to you, no problem. You can pay me back sometime when you're flush. Right now, I'm not dependent on the money, you are. So please, let me help you."

Sakumo took a deep breath and lowered his head. "Kakashi.. Do something decent with your money and don't give it to me out of pity. I'm going to wash myself now and then go to sleep. Have a nice day." With that he turned away.

Kakashi breathed a last "Dad.." into the otherwise empty room, but not a second later the bathroom door clicked into the lock and the key was audibly turned.

He couldn't be fucking serious. Once again, Sakumo buried his head in the sand, probably hoping that everything would soon be fine without his intervention. Groaning, Kakashi rubbed his hair. His forearms ached with every movement and there was still that foul smell of burnt flesh in the air. No, he could not abandon his father. If Sakumo didn't have the strength to do something, he had to. He knew that Sakumo would never accept his money, but at least he had said he should do something decent with it, didn't he? And bailing his father out sounded more than decent to Kakashi.

He went to his room, first put on an unwrecked T-shirt and jeans, threw on his leather jacket, in whose pocket his extortion money was slumbering, and rummaged out his savings from an old tobacco can in the box under his bed. With a grimly determined expression, he sat down in his Beetle, counted through all the money and drove to the next phone box, where he leafed through the phone book. Sakumo had once mentioned the name of the credit company, 'Akatsuki', and indeed Kakashi found the corresponding company entry and address.

Without further ado, Kakashi roared on and arrived less than twenty minutes later at an inconspicuous, multi-story brick building in Cheetham Hill. It was a bit away from the many factories in the neighbourhood. To the left of it was a large, fenced-in parking lot, where three black Mercedes limousines were parked, which looked exactly like the one that had stood in front of the Kent last week. So, he was right. On the ground floor, an elderly man struggled to extend the awning over his fresh melons. Kakashi greeted him politely and asked for Akatsuki's office.

The man looked at him suspiciously and merely raised his thumb in the air. Kakashi looked up the façade. The cardinal direction was not helpful, but he certainly wouldn't get more out of that guy. So, he took the entrance next to the one that obviously led to the greengrocer's shop, and climbed the steps through the narrow staircase to the first landing. From there, a single door led off, on which hung a brass sign with 'Akatsuki Agency Credits & Loans Appointments by arrangement only' embossed on it.

One last time, Kakashi took a deep breath and pressed the handle. The door swung open backwards. He was a little afraid of any reprimand, because he just burst in without an appointment. A poky corridor led him into an unadorned room, which immediately aroused a dreary mood. To his left, at a neatly tidied desk, filing her nails and chewing gum, sat a woman. What she was doing would have fit perfectly into Kakashi's image of a listless typist, but her look promised anything but 'blonde, annoyed and stupid'. She was very pretty, about her late twenties, had a dark blue bob cut, piercings on her lower lip and a large rose tattoo that ran from her chin to under the neckline of her loose, black T-shirt, under which her thick boobs vibrated with the constant movement of her arm. She hung there, legs crossed, and hardly noticed anything that did not grow from the tips of her fingers.

Kakashi stepped forward, cleared his throat emphatically and asked, "Excuse me? Can I please speak to your boss?"

Both nail file and chewing stopped. Amber eyes, framed by blue-orange makeup, flitted to Kakashi's face. The two looked at each other for a moment until it became almost uncomfortable, then the woman started ramming her jaws on the gum again. "And you are?"

"Kakashi Hatake. I want to see your boss."

"Appointment?"

"No."

"Then fuck off."

"It's urgent."

There was no emotion in her rather androgynous features. She just pressed her tongue between her lips, puffed out her green gum, and picked up the phone without even blinking. It popped when the bubble burst. "Madara, this is a visitor for you, it must be urgent. A certain 'Kakashi Hatake', young, pretty, tasty bum." Kakashi frowned and just managed to stop himself from glancing at his ass. How could she judge that, when she had only seen him from the front?! And much more important: Why was THIS the information she shared with her boss? Were all customers announced in this way? She said "Mh-hm" twice, hung up and nodded to the door directly behind her. "You can get in."

"Uh.. Thank you." With a slight shake of his head, Kakashi went to the instructed door and knocked. A dull "Come in" was the answer. The office he entered was heavily smoked. Dense clouds hung in the air and the cause was not difficult to identify despite foggy visibility. Behind a much beefier and much more chaotic desk than the secretary's sat a man in his late thirties, wavy, black hair tips met a white shirt collar and with the proud features carved in stone, the guy looked like a pissed off lion with an incongruously sweet smell that reminded Kakashi of Smarties. The deep red eyes narrowed slightly as another cigarette smoke rose past them, and glided lengthwise over Kakashi's body to his wrecked chucks. Then he turned his attention again to a file on his table. "I hear?" he said with an unpleasant scratch in his voice, which strangely contributed to Kakashi having to clear his throat. It was also possible that this was due to the lack of oxygen in here. He would have liked to open a window or at least the door behind him again to ventilate. "Um.. I'm Kakashi Hatake."

"Konan already mentioned that," Mane replied. "And is that supposed to tell me anything?"

Kakashi felt so lost as he just stood in the middle of the room. "Excuse me, sir, may I sit down?"

Mane looked up. He took a drag on his cigarette, stubbed it out in an overflowing ashtray between all the documents, and blew out the smoke with a puff, which sounded a bit reproachful. "Circulatory problems?" he asked with an unmistakable lyre, was again engrossed in the contents of the binder.

Somehow, Kakashi found it fascinating that a person could look angry and bored at the same time. But Mane actually managed it. The next moment, however, he was just bugged by it. This guy was a loan shark and an Uchiha, he had to be filthy rich. And he treated Kakashi as if he were an annoying fly that he didn't even want to bother to slap to death. He knitted his brows together and replied in the most arrogant tone he was capable of, "Understandable with the air in here, isn't it?"

"And did you come here to talk to me about the quality of indoor air?"

"No." Kakashi didn't even ask any further. He moved the chair that stood in front of the desk back and let himself fall on it. Mane had watched this with an expressionless face, but turned his eyes back to the notes in his hand. "I'm here to pay off my father's debts."

"Oh? That's new," said Mane indifferently. God, how Kakashi would like to pulverize that motherfucker's brain for his way of speaking. He was already used to the disparagement of the people at Kensington, but this bastard outshone everything he knew. "And who exactly is it about?"

"Sakumo Hatake."

This name briefly drew Mane's attention before he lit a new cigarette. "Then please."

Kakashi suppressed a cough because the smoke tickled his throat unpleasantly and took the bundle out of his jacket pocket. He had decided to sacrifice only his savings and leave Orochimaru's money untouched for the time being. After all, he still had to make ends meet. He threw it from his wrist onto one of the binders.

Mane leaned forward, but only tapped of the ashes, paying no further attention to the money. "And what is that?"

"That's 2,150 pounds."

"I didn't ask how much that is, but WHAT that is."

"That... is to pay off my father's debt." He was confused. Wasn't that clear? Or were they just talking completely past each other?

Mane put one arm loosely on the rest and lifted the other to drag. "And you think 2,150 pounds would be enough for that?"

Slowly, Kakashi nodded, even though he had the feeling that he was making a complete fool of himself.

"Hm," Mane said. He stood up, was surprisingly tall, must have long legs, because he and Kakashi were almost at the same height when sitting, and went to a filing cabinet. With a theatrical sigh, he looked for a few seconds at the folders that were stowed inside and muttered distinctly "Hatake.. Hatake.." to himself. "Ah yes, here." He sat down back at the desk with a thick binder, opened it, put out half his cigarette and read monotonously, "Contract between my humble self and Sakumo Hatake, born September third, 1948 in Bexley, London. On the fourth of July 1988 a capital of 25,000 pounds was borrowed, with a term of three years, a linear interest rate of thirteen per cent with interest payout. No interim payments made, ergo the repayment in full will be made on the fourth of July 1991. Payment deadline not met, ergo first claim will be made on the fifth of July 1991. No repayment made, ergo second claim on the eleventh of July 1991. Partial repayment of five hundred pounds made, ergo third claim on the eighteenth of July 1991." He looked at a large calendar on the wall. "Man, that's today! Second. No repayment made, ergo fourth claim on the twenty-second of July 1991." He threw his ballpoint pen back onto a pile of papers, slammed the binder shut again, lit a new cigarette and snuggled up in his swivel swinging chair as if he felt right at home in his own skin. "I think you can figure out what your father owes me by now, can't you?"

Kakashi had absolutely no idea because he had never dealt with interest and loans, but he knew that his measly 2,150 pounds wasn't even worth a crumb. He would have thought Sakumo might have borrowed one or two grand to squander while playing, but twenty-five..? This shock was probably written on his forehead, because Mane put on something that was tantamount to a restrained grin. "So, you didn't know how much your father borrowed from me, huh?" Now he took Kakashi's crumb-money and threw it unnoticed into the drawer of his desk. "I see the sum as a small deposit. Congratulations. This reduces Mister Sakumo Hatake's debts to 32,100 pounds. If you have more pocket money that you want to burn, you are welcome."

A hatred was bubbling in Kakashi. Not only to this shitty Madara Uchiha and his bloated nature, no, also to his father. How the hell could he have allowed such a thing to happen..? Where had those 25,000 pounds gone?! Had he gambled away all of it? It had to, because Sakumo had no money, Kakashi knew that. They turned over every penny, were almost down on their uppers, soured in the Crescents because they didn't have to pay rent there – and Sakumo threw twenty-five grand out of the window just like that. For nothing. To compensate for his grief. What they could have done with it.. They could have finally buried Noriko in London as she had always wanted. They might have been able to buy a small house and Sakumo wouldn't suffer from this cough. Kakashi could easily use it to finance his studies. Twenty-five grand... None of them would ever be able to raise the necessary money.

He had little hope, but he had to appeal to Mane's pity. "Sir.. You're right, I didn't know how much my father owed you. I had no idea it was so much. But now I realize that my father doesn't have that money either. He doesn't have 32,000 pounds."

"32,100," emphasized Mane.

Kakashi swallowed dryly. "Yes. My father doesn't have that either. He's sick, you know?" Mane stirred slightly, Kakashi thought he saw a hint of eye rolling. "Nine years ago, my mother was killed, and it destroyed him. That's why he started drinking and gambling." Mane rummaged around in another desk drawer, Kakashi continued to talk undeterred. "He's not really in his right mind. It's hard to describe. Sometimes I have the feeling that he is just the shell of a human being. I don't think he knows what it really means to have this high debt. I beg you, sir, he needs more time. I think I can convince him of how important this is, then he'll get behind it and get the money. But that won't happen so quickly. He works hard, is on the night shift in the steel mill here in Cheetham Hill. They pay well and if I look for a job over the holidays, then we'll manage it. But please, sir, give us one last time limit."

Mane threw a thick, blue tome on his papers, Kakashi deciphered the title 'Dictionary English – Italian' upside down. He ran his thumb almost absent-mindedly over the pages, leafing through them as if he were looking for something. "Hm," he said. "No, I'm sorry, there's no translation for 'mimimi' in here." He blew out smoke provocatively. "Your father had three years to take care of paying off his loan. How much do you think should be enough? Another three years? Maybe thirty?" Again, he leaned forward, embraced himself on the edge of the table with his forearms and took a drag on his cigarette, staring Kakashi incessantly in the eyes. "Sakumo Hatake is a good-for-nothing gambler. I know such men in abundance. And like everyone else, he just needs the right stimulus to understand."

Mane's voice grew darker, as if death were speaking through him. An icy shiver came over Kakashi. All of a sudden, he didn't feel comfortable in his own skin anymore, even though he hadn't really done it before. How stupid was he to go to a loan shark alone with a few silly notes to buy his father's freedom? Outside were some cars that certainly belonged to the thugs. He had seen what they were capable of. They could do whatever to him, torture him, make his death unbearably agonizing. He should get out of here as quickly as possible, pack his things and leave Manchester together with Sakumo, far away from the reach of this man in front of him.

Mane again seemed to know exactly what was going on in Kakashi's mind. A smile played around his lips. "Are you afraid of me?"

Kakashi didn't know what to answer. The truth was: Yes. But he was not allowed to say that, that would only serve Mane's disgusting complacency. But he didn't need to lie either, it was clear to both of them that Kakashi was symbolically shitting his pants.

This obviously amused Mane. "Oh, Kakashi, you don't have to. I'm generous, aren't I? I have already granted your father another grace period. And until then, nothing will happen to you."

"It's not about me," Kakashi fibbed. "It's about my father."

Mane's brows twitched up in surprise, which was the first expression on his face that promised more than mockery. "It's not about you, no?"

"No," Kakashi stressed. "Today my father was seriously injured and yet he wants to do everything on his own. I'm the only one who can help him, who wants it at all. I care about my father, and I want to do everything in my power to get him out of this hole."

"Why?"

"Because he's my father," Kakashi replied perplexed. What was with this interest all of a sudden? Was that a game?

"That's not an argument. He begot you, right, but that doesn't mean you owe him anything. And if he awakens that feeling in you, he's not a good father."

"He IS a good father!" Kakashi hissed aggressively. There the hatred returned. This wanker should stop being so arrogant! "He always gave everything, served his country, showed me what is really important in life. And I don't want to let him die like that."

Again, Mane leaned back. He stared at Kakashi, who glared back in anger, took a drag on his cigarette from time to time and turned the filter back and forth between his fingers almost casually. Kakashi scanned every millimetre of that ghastly face in front of him, those indifferent red eyes, the two frown lines between the eyebrows, the defined cheekbones, the wide jaw, the permanently disgusted lips, noticing that the upper one was slightly fuller than the lower, giving the man a strangely pouty expression. Kakashi had always considered the Uchiha clan to be unbearably haughty, simply because far too many of them had far too much power and money and were proud of it, but this Madara was a particularly pronounced specimen. His whole manner was repulsive. He hated that he had to sit here and beg, that his own and his father's lifes depended on this guy. His gaze met Mane's again, which apparently hadn't moved away from his eyes.

"Hm..", Mane said after a few silent minutes. This stub also disappeared into the ashtray. "Kakashi Hatake. What are you willing to do to pay off your father's debts?"

Kakashi had suspected that such a question would come, and he had already prepared his honest answer. "Everything, sir." He would work his bones bloody, would learn to sleep standing up, would renounce all luxuries if all that meant relieving his father.

Mane got up, went to another filing cabinet, and pulled out two sheets of white paper. He handed one of them to Kakashi, with the other he sat down in his chair. "Contract between Madara Uchiha and Kakashi Hatake," he began in a businesslike tone and wrote Kakashi's name in the line under 'Employee'. "I need a birthday and -place, please."

"Fifteenth September 1973 in Rusholme, Manchester."

"Address?"

Kakashi called it mechanical and skimmed over the contract in the meantime. The first page was exactly as he knew it from his previous jobs, name, address, method of payment of remuneration – although there was already a cross here next to 'Settlement of debts in the amount of _ pounds'. However, he was a little surprised that this contract was thicker than the ones he knew. What else besides working hours and wages was there to regulate? He turned to the second page and began to read.

\ The employee is obliged to present a clinically performed, negative test regarding the HI virus (The costs for this test are borne by the employee himself.)
or to prove that no unprotected sexual acts with men have taken place so far and that he has not received a contaminated blood donation.

Proof available [] Yes [] No

The employee agrees to shave and clean the intimate area independently so that the employer can enjoy a hygienically perfect experience.

Agreement [] Yes [] No

The employee agrees not to consume any mind-altering substances, including alcohol, during the term of the contract in order to be able to fully satisfy the employer's needs at all times.

Agreement [] Yes [] No

The employee sees himself physically and psychologically in a position to be tied up by the employer during the sexual act and to be beaten, bitten and reprimanded to a tolerable extent.

Agreement [] Yes [] No

If a limit is exceeded in this regard in the course of the contract, it can be discussed and re-set with the consent of both contracting parties. /

Kakashi gasped. What he read completely robbed him of his nerves. HIV? Shave your intimate area? To tie up and beat and reprimand?! And that was only the first page. On the next one were similar requirements, all of which had something to do with sex. His blood sank into his feet. He had thought this was about a job, not something like THAT. He couldn't let himself be fucked in the ass! That was simply not possible. He was a man!

Madara had also reached page two and looked at Kakashi expectantly. He made the nutcracker, couldn't form words, sweated uncontrollably, looked for something in that iron face that made this a stupid joke, didn't find it, wanted to scream, luckily stopped himself, sweated even more, until he finally squeezed out, "I.. can't do that."

"What not? What point is it about exactly?" Madara asked coolly.

"Um.. All of them. I'm not a poof."

Madara snorted contemptuously. "So? That doesn't matter to me. You just told me that you would do anything to help your father, but THIS is something you can't do..? Well, then I hope that your father will show up here in four days with the 32,100 pounds. Otherwise, I'm sorry for his health and for your face." He closed the contract and was about to throw it in the trash, when Kakashi shouted, "No!" He himself was surprised by his reaction. He hadn't wanted to stop him because that meant he could go home, wouldn't have to do what was required of him in that contract, wouldn't have to expose himself to that shame, wouldn't actually become what he hated more than anything else – but it would also mean that he and his father would be in big trouble, they would both suffer great damage when this last period was over. His body went numb. There was no alternative, no other way. Sakumo was never able to pay his debts by Monday, rather cows fell from the sky. This was one way Kakashi was able to save his father. He had to do it. "No.." he croaked, swallowed hard and moistened his dry lips. "I.. well.." His voice didn't sound like his. It was somehow strange, as if his mind had isolated itself from it. "I've never received foreign blood. And.. I.. I've never had contact with a man. Well.. in a sexual way."

"Very good," Madara said energetically, reopened his copy of the contract and put a cross. "Next point. To explain: When shaving, the anus is enough, I'm not interested in your genitals. And have you ever cleansed your intestines?"