Kakashi almost ran down the door of the ER. In peace of mind, these bastards pushed themselves apart as if they were mocking him. Furious, Kakashi squeezed through the slit and streaked to the information desk, where a chubby middle-aged woman was sitting and studying a sheet of paper. "Hello, I'm here for Sakumo Hatake," he groaned when he was close enough, slamming his toes against the wood for not coming to a stop early enough. His sluggish legs hardly wanted to hold him anyway, so obeying the subconscious commands of his nervous system was all the more too much to ask.

Leisurely, the woman put the sheet aside and raised her head. "Yes, please?"

Kakashi's wafer-thin thread of patience only stretched further. "Sakumo Hatake," he hissed. "Where is he?"

As if in slow motion, she reached out for a drawer. Kakashi couldn't believe it. What was this cunt doing?! With trembling hands, he clung to the belly-high counter and watched as the woman leafed through a pile of papers, apparently had all the time in the world. Hatred flickered at his patience and his fingernails drew deep notches in the wood. He had every effort not to attack this lame snail. "Hatake.. Hatake.." she murmured deeply relaxed. "Ah, here we have him. Sakumo Hatake, admitted an hour ago. Are you a relative of Mister Hatake?"

"I'm his son," Kakashi replied hastily.

"Do you have any proof of this?"

He fumbled his wallet out of his sweatpants and slapped his driver's license on the counter. The snail took it and looked at it briefly. "Kakashi Hatake, I see. Yes, that's enough for me." She gave him back the card, took a sip from her teacup, and cleared her throat. "Sorry, I'm a bit stricken."

"Aha," Kakashi replied simply. "What about my father now?"

"Yes.. Mister Hatake had an accident at work," she read in a lax voice.

"I already know that," Kakashi interrupted her. "How serious? Where is he now? Can I go to him?"

The woman raised her eyebrows at him. "Mister Hatake. Such hectic pace does not get us anywhere. The world doesn't turn faster just because you want it to."

"I fucking want to go to my father!" Kakashi snapped.

Now her expression changed to anger. "Sir, I must ask you to stay calm, otherwise I will be forced to call security."

Kakashi swallowed any insults and remembered his situation. Wrath did not get him any further here. "Yes, please forgive me," he murmured humbly. "It's just – I was rung out of bed earlier. My father's foreman informed me that dad had an accident and was taken to the hospital. I have not received any information about his condition. I'm tired and afraid for him. Do you understand?"

"Of course, sir, I understand that perfectly. But I can assure you that your father is not in mortal danger. According to the anamnesis, his right arm is injured, so no reason to get upset for the time being."

A huge chunk fell from Kakashi's heart. "He's going to get through..?"

"Yes, as I said, no mortal danger," the woman reassured him. "He's in the operating room right now. It will take a while. Would you like to wait here until then?"

"Yes, of course."

"Would you like a cup of tea, too? It calms your nerves a bit."

Kakashi gratefully accepted the tea. The woman filled him a plastic cup and directed him to a waiting area behind a swinging door, which was empty except for another man. Kakashi nodded to the stranger, but paid no further attention to him, sat down on one of the upholstered chairs by the windows and grasped the cup with both hands, which made the tea in it vibrate. He took his right hand from the warm vessel again and clenched it into a fist, but the trembling remained. He finally had to calm down, erase these horror scenarios in which his father bled to death in the trauma room from his mind. They did not correspond to reality, were only excesses of his imagination, which he had muddled together in his panic. Sakumo wasn't going to die. That old scoundrel was much too tough for that anyway.

Hours passed, during which other visitors came, waited, disappeared. Some made themselves comfortable, probably already knew that they had a long night ahead of them, a few just got a murky coffee or a mini bag of wine gums from the snack machine.

The second hand of the large clock above the door tacked mockingly slowly. Around two, Kakashi dozed off for a few minutes and jumped up, quickly realizing that no one had called him. At four, he stretched his legs, wandered through the open area of the emergency room, saw seriously injured people roll in, chatted with the receptionist, gave her the cup back, apologized for his behaviour, only to sit down again with a bar of chocolate and a latte.

The closer the morning came, the more the tiredness pulled at Kakashi's brain. At some point he didn't even know if time was still running or if it was even standing still, but when the first orange stripes were visible on the horizon outside the window, something finally happened. A young, stern-looking doctor came through the swinging door, let her gaze wander over those present and went directly to Kakashi. His inertia immediately vanished and he sat up straight. "Kakashi Hatake?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Kakashi snotted, who hadn't used his voice for hours and therefore cleared his throat. "Yes, it's me."

"Please come with me."

Kakashi stood up, threw the blank foil of his chocolate into the dustbin next to the vending machine as he passed, and sprinted after the doctor, who quickly led him through another swinging door into the treatment area of the clinic. "Your father's condition is stable," she explained while walking. "The emergency doctor told me that he was drunk at work and that his arm got into the steel press." Kakashi's heart skipped a beat, it was also possible that it preferred to fail because of the sudden effort to keep up with the woman's speed. "He has several fractures in the ulna, radius, carpalia, metacarpalia and the phalanges, his extensor digitorum is torn, and he also has severe contusions of the blood vessels."

As if out of nowhere, another doctor appeared in front of them, forcing them both to stop. The man was older and wore a normal sweatshirt under his scrubs, not a dark blue surgical shirt. "Miss Makomoto, please, you can't run over relatives with so many technical terms." With a fake smile, he turned to Kakashi. "Excuse me, sir. The young lady is new to trauma surgery and has not yet had too much to do with healthy people who do not speak our medical foreign language. She still has to learn that."

Somehow, the guy radiated an exaggerated arrogance and Doctor Makomoto's facial expressions clearly showed that she felt patronized by the older doctor. Kakashi glared at him challengingly. "I indeed understood her. My father's arm and hand are broken, his extensor muscle is torn and he has bruises all over his forearm – or even more simply: half his arm is fucked up."

Both doctors seemed stunned, Kakashi waved his hand. "Can Doctor Makomoto take me to my father now?"

They left the wanker and continued on their way, but now a little slower than before. "We removed the bone splinters from your father's arm and were able to stop the bleeding," Makomoto continued. "His bones are fixed with nails. He is currently under the influence of strong painkillers, so it is quite possible that he does not recognize you. And.. well, your father's blood alcohol certainly plays a role in this. It was difficult to adjust the dose of anaesthesia." They reached a wide door, which was signposted "recovery room". "Unfortunately, our capacities do not allow your father to stay here for observation, but I don't see any need either. There is no risk of blood poisoning or other complications. At the moment, he just needs rest and time for his arm to heal. He should go to his family doctor for an initial examination in three days at the latest and discuss the measures of further treatment and physiotherapy. If the bone fragments come into contact again, the nails can be removed. But appointments in this regard are made by the family doctor with a clinic of your choice. Until then, I will prescribe an analgesic to your father, which is to be administered subcutaneously. Please give him two injections a day into the biceps, ten milligrams per dose, the first one tonight. No more, even if he complains of pain. His liver values do not justify a higher dosage in any case. If he experiences any of the side effects listed in the package leaflet, contact your doctor or call an emergency doctor, especially if you see dizziness, shortness of breath and vomiting. Have you understood these points?"

Kakashi nodded.

The woman looked at him curiously. "Are you an aspiring doctor?"

"No," Kakashi smiled, "I just pay close attention at school. And human anatomy has only recently been a topic in biology."

"It's refreshing not to have to translate everything," she said and smiled slightly. "Oh, by the way, we also treated his left hand. The wound had become inflamed and festering, we cleaned it and rebandaged it. However, it seems to be older."

"Uh.. Yes.. Dad twisted his ankle while cooking and came to the stove with the back of his hand." It was a cheap lie, but it seemed to work. Doctor Makomoto nodded in understanding. "Your father is in here. You can take him straight home, but please don't leave him alone for now. He is still quite confused by the anaesthesia." She opened the door, behind which a tall male nurse jumped up from a chair. "Kevin, please help Mister Hatake into the wheelchair, his son is here."

"Yes, ma'am," Kevin replied and hurried to a bed where Sakumo was lying. He was deathly pale, his right forearm was in a thick plaster cast that was pinned to his chest with a cuff, his left hand was freshly bandaged. When Kevin woke him up, the tired eyes searched around the room, found his son and the thin, chapped lips moved in a soundless "Kakashi".

Kakashi helped Kevin put his father in a wheelchair and pushed him out into the hallway. Doctor Makomoto was still with them. "If he can keep food down, he should eat something to help his body regain its strength. But try light food, low fat."

"A chicken broth should work," Kakashi replied, staring incessantly at his father's unkempt hair as he pushed him toward the exit. They could do with a wash as soon as possible, and they smelled accordingly. Kakashi decided that he would definitely bathe his father in the next few days, the day after tomorrow at the latest.

"That sounds good. So then, get well soon, Mister Hatake."

Sakumo grumbled a bit, although he had been doing this all the time and Kakashi was unsure if he even noticed much of his environment. Therefore, it turned out to be a competitive sport to drag him to their flat in Kent after a detour to the pharmacy. Sakumo made no attempt to move his feet on his own, but somehow, Kakashi couldn't say in retrospect what powers had taken possession of him, he managed to get his father to the bed in his bedroom. He took off his jeans and laid him in the pillows, into which Sakumo sank quietly groaning. Kakashi stroked his moist forehead. This haul had visibly exhausted him. "Dad? I'll make you something to eat right away, yes? Rest, maybe try to get some sleep." Again an indefinable hum on the part of Sakumo. Kakashi sighed and left his father's bedroom, just ajar the door, and was about to go to the kitchen to pick out the ingredients for a mild chicken soup, when the doorbell rang. It was the trio of the Maitos, led by Dai. He seemed extremely worried. "Kakashi," he said directly and his black eyes searched the hallway behind Kakashi. "We saw that your car is outside. Kina said your father had an accident..?"

Kakashi avoided looking in Kina's or Gai's direction. That they were worried was meant nicely, but had Kina seriously told her family that they had had sex..? And if not, how else did she conceal the real reason why she had just spent the night with him, or why she had wanted to do it? After all, something like this had never happened before and yesterday she had had no excuse because of any fights or anything else. That made this situation more than unpleasant. He ran his hand through the neck and replied, "Yes.. He crushed his arm in the steel press."

"For heaven's sake!" Dai shouted and went straight into his doctor mode. "How is he? Were they able to save his arm? What is the diagnosis?"

Kakashi groaned in a subliminally annoyed tone and pushed his temple against the edge of the door. Dai's noisy organ didn't help with his throbbing headaches, triggered by a residual amount of alcohol in his blood, the slow fading effect of Jiraiya's weed, and the physical and mental exertion – all the crowning glory of his lack of sleep. "He is doing according to the circumstances. Good would be an exaggeration, but he is still alive. His arm is completely broken, but otherwise.."

"How did that happen in the first place?" Dai continued to probe. "There are safety devices in such factories, you can't just get an arm into a press."

"Well," Kakashi snorted and lowered his voice a little so that Sakumo wouldn't hear him from the bedroom if he was awake, "when you're drunk, it happens."

"Oh my goodness.. And I had already feared that it might have something to do with these insinuations."

"Insinuations?" Kakashi asked perplexed.

"You've said your lives were threatened." Out of the corner of his eye, Kakashi saw Kina's head jerk around to her father in shock. He stared penetratingly into Dai's eyes. "Yeah, that.. I didn't mean it," he swindled. "Nobody threatens us. There was only an argument with a guy in the pub, but that's nothing serious. It's all cleared up again."

"Okay," Dai murmured. "Do you still need support with something?"

Kakashi hated himself for it, but he nodded timidly. "I know this is.. so.. Well, our TV broke and—"

Dai didn't let Kakashi continue talking. With a "Come, Gai" he marched straight back to the neighbouring flat, disappeared with his son for a minute, in which Kakashi emphatically ignored Kina's palpable gaze and looked at the cracks in the floor tiles, and returned with a large, black tube screen. "Where shall it go?" Dai panted and his moustache trembled friendly.

Kakashi was infinitely embarrassed and he had the feeling that he was taking advantage of Dai's bonhomie. He guided the two mushroom heads into the living room, where they heaved the heavy device onto the low wooden table, which until almost two weeks ago had balanced the Hatakes' old television on its wobbly legs. Next to the shiny piece of state-of-the-art technology, the cripple would still appear antique even if it were still intact.

"Here," Dai said, half out of breath, handing Kakashi the remote control. "Best sound, built-in VHS player, if you lack movies, he has the key, he is welcome to help himself to our collection. Rambo, Lethal Weapon, The Godfather – we've got it all. This will allow Sakumo to pass the time while he recovers." He ran his fingers through his full, wavy hair and thrust his hands into his sides. "Do you need anything else?"

With pursed lips, Kakashi shook his head. "I'm sorry.."

"Nah!" Dai waved his hand happily. "Don't worry about that, boy. We don't need it for the next two weeks anyway and even after that you can continue to borrow it. It's for Sakumo, after all." He winked with a click of his tongue. "If you still got something on your heart, you can always ring my parents outa bed. We're just a phone call and a three-and-a-half-hour drive away."

Kakashi smiled faintly. "Thank you, Dai. I wish you a lot of fun in Hawick."

"We will, my father has already announced that I can help him repair the barn." Playing exaggerated, Dai rolled his eyes but laughed. "So then, kids, let's go to the Maitomobile!" Dai stuck out his fist and floated away towards the flat door. Kina moaned in agony, waved to Kakashi and followed her father with a chuckling "Deliver me, Kashi". Gai stayed behind, his hands in the pockets of his tracksuit jacket, just as Kakashi hid his in his trouser pockets, and looked at Kakashi, which he didn't notice.

Dai's laughter, Kina's protests, and both of their trampling fell silent in the hallway, and it got quiet. Gai's sneaker scraped softly across the floor as he took half a step toward Kakashi. "Hey, give me a call, ya? Then we can chat."

Kakashi raised his gaze. Those dark button eyes literally glowed in the warm light of the morning sun. Wistfulness spread through Kakashi. He wanted to shit on Sakumo and Madara, quickly stuff a few clothes into his former school backpack and just jet off to Scotland with the Maitos. He didn't want to stay here. But his father needed him. "Ok," was all he could get out.

Gai grinned, raised a peace sign and followed his father and sister out of the flat. A lock click later, Kakashi was alone again, even though he had never longed for company as much as he did at that exact moment. He sighed heavily, stood motionless in front of the couch for a few more minutes until he started preparing food for his father.

In fact, he found a small soup chicken in the freezer and threw it into the pot with some herbs and spices. While the water on the stove was simmering, Kakashi plugged in the TV and zapped through the channels until he got stuck on MTV. Always keeping an eye on the stove, he watched music videos for the next four hours, even if only pop was playing and he basically couldn't do too much with it. But sometimes he found a pearl here and there that he could use in a mood tape – as he did today. More precisely: Madonna with Justify My Love.

A black-and-white video flickered across the screen and the sound from the speakers accompanied what was shown with so much eroticism that Kakashi stared at the TV as if spellbound and actually became a little hard. Courageous of MTV to show something like a softcore film on the first Monday afternoon of the summer holidays. Madonna in lingerie, guys in harnesses, very clear movements, plus all the time this moaning in the background. You could even see nipples flash briefly – presumably, the picture was too pixelated overall to be able to say exactly.

Inevitably, Kina pushed herself in front of his inner eye, and not her betrayal and Kakashi's collapse afterwards, no, her naked body, how her tits had bounced to the beat of his hips, how she had moaned because of him, her horny pussy, how tight she had been. Kakashi's hand ran into his crotch, over the shallow bulge in his sweatpants. He embraced his swelling cock with the fabric, rubbed it gently, his aroused growl drowned out in the music. If she still wanted him, he had to fuck her again. Their friendship was over in his eyes anyway, so they could pass the time in other ways. It had felt so good. He wanted to do it right, maybe with a few scented candles and prepare her longer for him so that she could enjoy it too. They had just rushed way too much, yes, that was it. They should have taken more time, then he wouldn't have made this mistake and she wouldn't regret anything. Because he could no longer do without it. He needed this form of release, he needed sex. His cock already had withdrawal symptoms, it was so hard, twitched greedily, moistened the grey fabric. He wanted the certainty of sleeping with someone who fucked him because of him. No, he didn't want this, he NEEDED it.

Perhaps, when the first shock of defloration was over and no life developed in her, Kina could be this for him. Maybe, yes, maybe they could become more. Because even if their friendship had cracks in the foundation, it could still be mended with mortar of love, couldn't it? And if not love, then good, hard sex. This greed was killing him. He wanted to cum. He HAD to cum.. And it wasn't just the desire for ejaculation. He needed not only blunt sex, but sexual intercourse with someone with whom it felt right. With Kina he had the hope that she could fill this gap in him, that she was the one with whom sex would be good – because he couldn't stand the search for this much longer, as his cock dripping with pleasure proved.

However, before Kakashi could retreat to his room or even start wanking here in the living room, he heard a scuffing from the hallway. He hastily turned around so that his boner was pressed against the oven and stirred the broth with the wooden spoon.

"Kakashi?" said Sakumo's voice behind him. Kakashi glanced back. His father was still pale, sweatpants hung crookedly on his hip.

"Oh, hey, Dad," Kakashi replied innocently, splashing around particularly hard, so that boiling hot water dropped on his shirt and pants so that the telltale stain of precum was lost in it, and pushed his hips further forward so as not to let his father notice anything about his erection. "Were you able to sleep?"

"Two, three hours maybe," Sakumo murmured, exhausted.

"Well, but at least it's better than nothing. The soup is also ready soon. Would you like to have the meat in it?"

Sakumo didn't respond to his son. "What kind of TV is that?" So "Yes, as always". Kakashi prepared a bowl into which he could pluck the chicken meat and began to grate carrots. "The Maitos just brought it over so that you could have something to do."

"Aha. And then you watch porn in the living room?"

Kakashi scraped together every shred of acting talent he was capable of. "What?" he laughed and half turned, his crotch still at the stove. "Oh, I didn't pay attention to the video at all. I just wanted to listen to music while cooking." He turned off the TV over his shoulder, threw the remote control back onto the countertop and now took care of dicing the previously peeled potatoes so that Sakumo didn't see the trembling. "How are you?" he asked, just to keep the conversation going and give his corpus cavernosum time to calm down.

"My arm hurts," Sakumo replied and sat down at the dining table. "And my head."

'Oh, why is that,' Kakashi commented in his mind, now cutting leek into slices. "I can't give you painkillers yet."

"Why not? That's what they're there for, aren't they?"

"Yes," Kakashi replied and now found it suspicious himself that he constantly showed his back to his father. "But the doctor said I can't start until tonight, because of your liver values."

"Son, can you turn around when you're talking to me?" Sakumo growled angrily. "What kind of manners are these?"

Kakashi looked down at himself inconspicuously. A slight bulge was still to be guessed, but he could cover it with any lie if necessary. So, he turned around, crossed his legs and supported himself on the countertop. "I'm sorry, Dad. I just don't want the soup to overcook."

"That's chicken soup, what's supposed to overcook there?" Good point. "Please, give me the painkillers, it's getting worse every minute."

Kakashi took a deep breath, braced himself for another confrontation, and said firmly, "No, Dad. This is morphine. This is not to be trifled with. I may be able to give you ibuprofen that—"

"What's the point of ibuprofen?!" thundered Sakumo. "In case you haven't noticed, boy: My arm is destroyed. I'm in pain."

"Yes, and why is it?!" Kakashi yelled back. His fear could no longer stop him. "Because you were drunk at work!"

"And why was that, huh?! Because you dragged me there!"

"Because they would have kicked you out if you hadn't go just like that!"

"They did yesterday anyway, because they can't tolerate drunkenness at work. I lost my job because of you, do you realize that?!"

"And if they did, why didn't you leave?! Why did you stay there? You should have just come home, then this wouldn't have happened."

"Because we need the money! Or do you think your measly salary is enough for something, he?! No. I was able to negotiate with my foreman that I would at least finish this one shift."

"And then where is it my fault that you hurt yourself?"

"Because of YOU I was there in the first place, boy!"

Kakashi swallowed hard and wanted to start a counterattack, but didn't get around to it because a loud ringing interrupted the argument. Sakumo groaned and whined, because he was so fucking bad, and looked at his son expectantly. Kakashi stomped into the hallway, used the time to regain his composure and wipe isolated beads of sweat from his forehead, which were sticking to his hair from the heat on the stove.

Two unknown men were standing in front of the door. The smaller of the two – quite petite stature, incongruously with a broad face with no emotion in his soft features, red, tousled hair and cold, brown eyes – had his slender arms crossed and looked Kakashi up and down. The other guy was only a little taller, but still smaller than Kakashi, with his chest-length, shaggy, cheese-blond hair and the black make-up around his steel-blue eyes, he looked like a madman who had made it over the fence of the asylum for incurable criminal boys. He leaned casually with one arm against the wall next to the door frame and grinned scornfully. "Ev'ning," he sang. "May we enter?"

"Who are you?" Kakashi asked a bit roughly, still quite annoyed.

"Aye, we're here on behalf of Mister Madara Uchiha," Blondie snarled, his grin only getting more insane.

Kakashi had an icy shiver tingling on his neck. For a second, he feared that he had misunderstood Madara and he demanded the meeting at six o'clock in the morning, but he rejected this idea again. Madara would certainly have mentioned something like that. "And what does he want?"

Blondie clicked his tongue. "Are you Sakumo Hatake by any chance?"

"No?" Kakashi replied.

"Well, then," Blondie grumbled grimly and pushed past Kakashi into the flat, "we don't have anything to talk about. Hello? Mister Hatake?" he shouted as he scuffed through the hallway with casual steps.

The dolly followed him, his arms still crossed.

Kakashi sighed and closed the door. In the living room, Sakumo was still sitting at the table, and Blondie had simply swung himself onto the countertop next to the steaming pot, kicked the cutting board off his jeans and messed up a few slices of leek that rained down on the tiles. Dolly stood directly behind Sakumo, probably wanted to make an impression with his posture, which he didn't succeed in doing, at least with Kakashi. It was quite silly when a slender tiny creature like him tried to show his balls.

"What do you want?" Sakumo asked in a wretched voice, distorting his face in pain as he moved his plaster arm in the sling.

Blondie hadn't lost his grin and teased, "Oi, are you hurt, sir?"

"Yes, I had an accident," Sakumo grumbled. For the fact that he had always whined like a motherless puppy when Madara's thugs came by, he now seemed surprisingly brave.

"Naww," Blondie moaned. "Who beat us to it, mh?"

"Leave my father alone," Kakashi chimed in. In contrast to the previous times, he was also not afraid of these guys, just because of their appearance. "He's in pain and you have no reason to threaten him."

"Oh no?" Blondie slid off the kitchen counter, opened the fridge without asking, and rummaged around in it. "Then our boss must have been wrong, our mistake," it came half-muffled from the refrigerator. He had probably found what he had been looking for, slammed a ceramic bowl with green grapes on the countertop and slammed the door shut again, which made the glass bottles with milk inside clink. Popping, he let the first grape disappear in his mouth. "But he told us half an hour ago that we should please check with Mister Sakumo Hatake to see if he has all his debts together by now."

Resentment was bubbling in Kakashi. "Why?"

Bowl in hand, Blondie began to stroll slowly through the kitchen, looking at the spice rack here, the calendar on the wall there. "Why? Why what?"

"Why is he sending you over?" Kakashi expanded his question.

Blondie stopped, frowned at Kakashi for a moment, then burst out laughing.

Now Dolly spoke up, although Kakashi almost assumed that every duo in Akatsuki consisted of a speaker and a watchdog. "It's Monday. Mister Uchiha wants his money. What is so difficult to understand about it?"

Behind Kakashi, Blondie laughed at the top of his lungs, had continued on his way and only interrupted himself to swallow a grape.

"I have a contract with him," Kakashi said emphatically and didn't want to let these wankers get him down. "He forgives my father's debts if I work for him."

Dolly joined in Blondie's laughter, albeit briefly. "Really? And why does he send us here?"

"Yeah, that's what I want to know from you. There's no reason for you to be here."

"I don't see it that way," Dolly said calmly. "I know 32,100 very good reasons for our presence."

Slowly it was too much for Kakashi. He had made a half-turn, wanted to get Yumiko's 20,000 pounds from his room, stuff it into the throat of these bastards and watch them die from it – when several things happened at the same time. With his foot still in the air, the bowl of grapes shattered on the ground, Blondie grabbed Kakashi by the neck from behind, Dolly did the same with Sakumo and after an instinctive tussle between Kakashi and Blondie, in which his oxygen supply was cut off to such an extent that he gave up all defence, only panting filled the room. Sakumo seemed startled and panicked at the same time when Dolly pressed his forearm against his larynx and had his other hand on his elbow, his fingers dug minimally into the flesh just above the cast.

"Ks ks ks," Blondie said close to Kakashi's ear, pulling him back slightly. "Where do you want to go, eh? Do you want to run away? Get help? Get you a gun?"

"No," Kakashi gasped past the pressure in his throat and tugged at the unexpectedly strong arm. "I wanted—"

"No, I don't give a shit about what you want," Blondie snorted and let go.

Kakashi straightened up again, rubbed his neck and coughed slightly.

"Or to put it better: I don't give a shit about YOU. We are here because of your father."

As if on cue, Dolly tightened his grip on Sakumo's arm and he cried out in agony.

"No!" Kakashi shouted, stepping closer, but stopped at the frosty gaze of Dolly. "Please, don't hurt him! I have a contract with Madara. I don't understand why he's sending you when I'm taking care of the debts!"

"Hah!" Blondie blurted out contemptuously from behind Kakashi, "did you hear that, Danna? The peewee calls the boss by his first name. How fucking adorable."

Kakashi jerked his head. "Then just Mister Uchiha, I really don't give a fuck. The fact is: Our contract applies."

"Oh, yeah, the contract.." this Danna said cynically. "He mentioned something like that." Another pressure of his fingers, another scream from Sakumo, which turned into a soft whimper. For the first time, Dolly showed an emotion in the stoic face – a sly smile, of all things. "He also mentioned that you're really into its details, so he asked us to remind you of something: just because you have a contract doesn't mean your father can't do a little something."

"Are you kidding me?!" Kakashi snapped angrily. "I can show you wankers the contract. It says that my payment pays off the amount of 32,100 pounds. If Dad pays anything, it would mean that the contract becomes null and void, after all, the clause about the remuneration is no longer true. It is also noted in this contract that no changes may be made subsequently, unless it has been included. Does Mister motherfucking Uchiha really want the contract to no longer apply?"

The two Akatsukis exchanged a quick glance and Dolly's arm loosened a little. Sakumo tried to pull it completely off his neck, but that only caused Dolly to tighten his grip again.

"Wow, the baby isn't as stupid as he looks," Blondie giggled.

Kakashi gave him a scathing look. "Discuss with Madara if that's what he wants. If so, we pay. If not, please piss off."

"And he's cheeky too," Dolly added. But Kakashi achieved what he had set out to do; Dolly let go of Sakumo.

"I'm just being honest," Kakashi blundered back, becoming more confident with every second that he had de-escalated the situation. "It would be new to me that Madara no longer wants to use my services. And if that's the case, he should clarify it with me personally and not send his thugs behind the scenes to threaten my father."

As if they were buddies, Blondie put his arm around Kakashi's shoulders and bopped him, not letting himself be irritated by Kakashi's angry expression or the attempts to free himself. "Hm, your ass must be worth its weight in gold if you're so convinced of it. What do you think, Danna, should we test what our boss finds so horny about this boy?"

With eyes wide in horror, Kakashi looked from Blondie's profile over to Dolly. Did they want to..?

"Do you think he's good at giving head? Or is he hiding sweets in his hole?"

"Are you gay, or what?" Dolly growled. "I'm not interested in him. In addition, boss made it clear to everyone that only he is allowed to fuck him. So come on, Deidara, we're leaving. Our task here is done."

The two men left again, leaving behind a silence that was unbearable.

His pulse rushed in Kakashi's ears, his shallow, fast breathing only vaguely drowned it out. Shocked, he stared at a spot somewhere next to his father's head, there was a throbbing at the edges of his vision and cold sweat running down his temples. He couldn't move, stood there like a wax figure, as if the two sharks had not only torn his lie from him, but also his ability to move.

The tapping of the clock above him and the noise that had formed into tinnitus formed an eerie orchestra. After endless minutes, Sakumo stirred. Kakashi was only vaguely aware of how his father went to the stove, turned it off and got a glass from the cupboard. The bottom of the glass bottle was clonking deafeningly loud when it hit the countertop, but the gurgling of the whiskey was only a whisper.

He heard Sakumo's big gulps deep in his stilling brain, could feel the booze running from the corner of his mouth and dripping onto his T-shirt, which stank of sweat and hospital. Then the sound of the drinking glass on wood, another gurgling. "So that's what you meant by 'taking care of' it, huh?" Sakumo's voice, even though he had lowered it, made Kakashi start. His teeth gave off a constant chatter. "You spread your legs for this man, let him fuck you in the ass." There was a rustle as his slippers approached again and stopped a metre away from him. "Are you enjoying it?"

Finally, Kakashi looked up. He blinked to moisten his aching eyeballs and could at least hold his father's gaze for a moment. "What..?" he breathed hoarsely, looking at the balcony door.

Sakumo took a sip. "I asked you if you enjoy being fucked in the ass by Madara Uchiha."

"No," Kakashi squeezed out. "No, I don't enjoy it. What do you think? I'm not a poof."

"You are not?"

"No, really not, dad.."

The incredulous "Mh-hm" got lost in the drinking glass. "Then why do you allow it?"

It was this calm again that panicked Kakashi. And yet this time anger won. "Why do I allow it..?" he repeated uncomprehendingly, shook his head briefly and continued louder, "Why do I allow it?! Because of you, dad! Because of your debt to him! You would never have been able to pay it back, so I took the initiative. When I went to Madara, I didn't know what he was going to ask of me, but that's the only fucking way I can help you! Am I enjoying it? No. Do I do it anyway? Yes, damn it, because of you! It's hell to endure this every time, the guy is disgusting, arrogant and so fucking brutal that every time he takes me, I'd rather die. But I can bear it – because of YOU! I don't want him to hurt you or, in the worst case, kill you. 'Cause if I lose you, I have NOTHING left! You're my father, the only family I have. And that's why I don't want him to take you away from me. I want to take the burden off you, because otherwise you would suffocate. I've already caused you far too many problems, so I want to solve at least one. You shouldn't break any more if I can prevent it. It's my fault that mum is dead, so I want to do everything in my power to spare you further suffering. And if that means I have to let this Madara fuck me, then I'll put up with it. Because you mean everything to me. I don't want to be a disappointment to you anymore. Never. Again. I just want your approval, I want you to be proud of me, dad, and no matter what I have to do to achieve that, I'll do it. So that we can be happy again.. so that everything goes back to the way it used to be.. so that mum can smile in heaven.."

Trembling, Kakashi took a deep breath, a tear fell from his eyelashes. It hurt him to say those words out loud, especially right in front of his father. Sakumo had always been a man of action who had never wanted to talk much about feelings or desires. And now Kakashi was standing there, pouring out his heart to his father. He saw dimly how the darkly dressed figure in front of him took a sip of whiskey, silently turned the glass in his hand and raised his head. With an indifference in his voice that tore Kakashi's heart apart, he finally asked, "Are you crying again, you little shitdick?", walked past Kakashi without another word, got the remote control from the kitchenette, sat down on the couch, turned on the TV and lit a cigarette. "Clear away that rubbish."

Kakashi wiped his wet face and pulled up his nose with a sniffle. More tears were about to come, but he suppressed them with difficulty. "I'm sorry, dad," he said submissively. "I didn't have myself under control. That won't happen again, I promise."

Sakumo didn't react, just smoked his cigarette and stared at the TV, where a cheesy soap opera was playing.

"I.. uh.. I'll quickly get the soup ready, yes? So that you can eat something."

Nothing.

"Dad..?"

Kakashi lowered his head and swept up the shards and grapes that he disposed of in the dustbin. Then he turned the stove back on, put the knife to half the leek stick and wiped away a salty drop, which landed silently next to his thumb on the cutting board.