Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The woods around Konoha are always the loudest around sundown. It’s Naruto’s favorite time of the day. The birds sing at the top of their lungs, the cicadas call, the wind makes the leaves on the trees rustle. It’s a peaceful kind of loudness – more peaceful than the loudness of the Academy, at least. The loudness of the Academy consists of teachers shouting at him and classmates making fun of him.

After a whole day of that, it’s nice to come out here and listen to the birds and the cicadas and the wind. At least the forest doesn’t make fun of him.

The forest is probably the best place in the world, apart from maybe Ichiraku’s. It’s peaceful, there’s no one here who’s mean to him, and the leaves on the trees are bright orange right now, which Naruto likes because orange is his favorite color. And, if he’s lucky, he can catch something to eat out here. Which is great, because Naruto doesn’t have a lot of money – and even if he did, most of the shopkeepers in the village wouldn’t let him into their shops anyway. Catching rabbits or squirrels is easier than having to deal with the shopkeepers’ glares, and it’s definitely easier than trying to sleep with an empty stomach.

So he sets traps in the forest, and he checks them every afternoon, to see if there’s anything caught in them. He’d tried hunting at first, but his aim with kunai and shuriken is terrible, and he’s always too loud to get close anyway. Traps are easier and less tiring. It took him a couple of months of trial and error to get it right; his traps would sometimes fall apart at first and catch nothing, but these days, he’ll often find something caught in his traps.

He’s managed to catch a squirrel today; the creature was stuck in one of the snares that Naruto set yesterday. The squirrel now dangles upside-down from Naruto’s hand as he walks, some wire tied around its feet so that Naruto can carry it without having to touch it – it’s unhygienic to touch dead animals. That’s what Iruka-sensei says, at least.

But not everything Iruka-sensei says is correct, Naruto has found. He also said that Naruto shouldn’t go outside the walls of the village, because it’s dangerous and there’s nothing there anyway. Naruto would beg to differ: it’s totally safe, and there’s food out here. It’s very much worth it to go outside the walls of the village.

His tread is triumphant as he makes his way through the forest, fallen leaves crunching underneath his sandals and the squirrel dangling from his hand. This is a good day, he decides. School was crappy today, but now he gets to look forward to dinner, which balances out the crappiness from the rest of the day. Ultimately, today’s a good day. On top of that, there’s another snare that he’s set and that he hasn’t checked yet; maybe he’s caught even more food. Which would make this an even better day.

He sets out to find the last trap that he’s set. Out of all the traps he’s set, this one is the farthest away from the village; normally, Naruto stays pretty close to Konoha’s walls because he feels safer that way, but yesterday, he saw rabbit tracks leading away from the village and he felt that it’d be a shame to miss an opportunity like that. He’d just been setting traps randomly before, but setting a trap on an actual trail was much better. He followed the trail for about fifteen minutes, set a trap on the middle of the trail, patted himself on the back for his tracking skills and went back home.

He’d intended to follow the trail again today, but as it turns out, most of the rabbit tracks have been covered by leaves. No matter, Naruto figures, still filled with optimism from his successful catch earlier. He sort of remembers the path that he walked yesterday. He can find his trap again from memory.

He walks for five minutes, positive that he’s walking where the rabbit tracks were yesterday. There are broken twigs here and there, and he can still see some vague tracks when he kicks away the leaves on the ground.

He walks for ten minutes, still optimistic that he’s going the right way. He can’t find any tracks anymore, but that’s okay; he recognizes these trees. He recognizes the bush that his jacket got caught on yesterday.

He walks for fifteen minutes – and, wait, shouldn’t he have found the trap by now? Maybe he’s just being slower than he was yesterday. He’s definitely still going the right way, so he should find it any minute now.

He walks for twenty minutes, then twenty-five. It starts to get dark, but he presses on. He’ll find the trap eventually, right? There’s only so many places in the forest where it could be.

When he passes a weird gnarly-looking plant that he is now seeing for the second time in the last ten minutes, he gives in. Fine. Fine, he’s totally lost. And tired. And hungry. And kind of cold.

He stands still, crossing his arms and resisting the urge to pout. This sucks. He just wanted to find something to eat, and now he’s lost in the forest in the dark. It’s not fair. Filled with a sudden frustration, Naruto stomps to the side of the path and kicks a bush as hard as he can.

To his surprise, the bush easily rolls aside, revealing a large hole in the ground.

It takes Naruto a second to process what just happened. He was expecting the bush to stay put, so that it’d be satisfying to kick, but it turns out that the bush’s roots aren’t embedded in the ground. It looks like someone dug up the bush somewhere else and hastily plopped it down on the ground here, to hide the entrance of that hole.

Naruto leans forwards and peers into the hole, his earlier frustration forgotten. The hole looks large enough to crawl into, and it slopes lazily downwards. It seems like the hole continues downwards for a while, though Naruto can’t really see; the bottom of the hole is hidden in the shadows. The sides of the hole look weirdly smooth – it doesn’t look like they were formed by a human, or an animal. Maybe an Earth ninjutsu did this?

He leans forwards further, squinting. As he leans closer to the hole, he notices that it smells weird in there. There’s the dusty smell of dirt, but underneath that, there’s the sharp stench of blood and sweat.

He’s never been near a dead body before, but he imagines that it would smell like this.

“Hello?” he shouts into the hole, startled. “You still alive in there?”

No response follows, except for the dull echo of Naruto’s own voice. It makes him shudder a little bit. Holy crap, there could be an actual dead person here. Should he… Should he go and get help? But if he gets help, then he’d have to admit that he was outside the village, where he’s not supposed to be. He’d definitely get punished for breaking the rules. Maybe it’s better if he handles this by himself.

“Hello?” he calls again. Again, no response follows. Naruto fidgets for a moment, uncertain, before crouching down and moving to crawl into the hole. “Hey, I’m coming down there--”

The next moment, something cold presses against his throat. A kunai, he realizes – the flat side of a kunai. It doesn’t cut him, but it could. It’s a warning. A threat.

Someone exhales behind him; there’s a person attached to the hand that’s holding the kunai. Naruto’s blood turns cold in his veins.

“Get the Hell out of here,” the person – a man – whispers. His voice is rough and raspy. “Don’t come back. You never saw me here, understood?”

“Got it,” Naruto stammers out, and the pressure of the kunai disappears from his throat. The man behind him shifts to the side, giving Naruto room to move.

Naruto runs.

He sprints in a straight line away from the stranger, jumping over bushes and ducking underneath branches and not caring about the thorns that scratch his skin. He doesn’t stand still until minutes later, when he finally dares to look back and sees that he’s not being followed.

He leans his hands on his knees to try and catch his breath. As he leans his right hand on his knee, something flops against his lower leg, and it startles him briefly before he realizes that it’s just the squirrel that he caught. Despite everything, at least he still has his dinner.

He looks up, scanning his surroundings – Iruka-sensei says that shinobi should always be aware of their surroundings – and he realizes that he recognizes this place. He’s been here before; not far from here, there’s a creek where he went swimming during the summer. He knows his way home from here.

A relieved laugh bubbles up from inside him, and he plops down onto the ground, still out of breath. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, he’s suddenly really tired. He should just go home and forget that this happened, like the stranger told him to.

Except… that idea leaves a really bad taste in Naruto’s mouth. Someone just threatened him with a blade to his throat, and Naruto is just supposed to ignore that? He came out to the woods specifically because there’s no one around to tell him to leave, or to tell him what to do, or to be mean to him. He really doesn’t like the fact that he’s being told to leave anyway.

Being yelled at in the village is one thing; Naruto is used to that, at this point. He never really liked the village anyway. But these woods are his favorite place in the world. He won’t just let some random stranger tell him to leave, no matter how sharp his kunai is or how scary his voice is.

He has to stand up for himself.

He takes a few minutes to prepare himself; Naruto has never been good at thinking ahead, but he’s smart enough to know that rushing back without preparation will probably mean death. He stuffs the squirrel into his backpack – gross, but at least both his hands are free now – and takes out the kunai that he uses for his traps and for target practice. The blade has become slightly blunt, but Naruto thinks that it’s still sharp enough for a fight.

Maybe he won’t need to use the kunai at all; he doesn’t think that this is going to turn into a fight. If the stranger wanted him dead, he would’ve been dead already, he reasons. He hopes that that reasoning is right.

Like that, he heads back towards where he came from, his kunai clenched tightly in his fist. It’s not difficult to follow his own trail; the broken branches and footsteps make it pretty obvious where he ran. It doesn’t take him much effort to find the hole again.

He’s not afraid, he notices. He’s actually pretty excited. He isn’t usually allowed to stand up for himself.

When he returns to the hole, the entrance is hidden behind the bush again, and the stranger is nowhere to be seen. Naruto pulls the bush aside again, trying his best to be quiet. He hesitates briefly at the sight of the hole in the ground – it’s really dark, he should’ve brought a flashlight – before he gets on his hands and knees and crawls in.

The hole isn’t as much a hole as it is a tunnel, Naruto realizes as he crawls downwards; a tunnel that leads to some sort of underground room. The tunnel widens after a couple of meters, ending in a round-ish little room that’d probably be tall enough for Naruto to stand upright in, if it weren’t for the tree roots that poke in through the ceiling.

The room is lit by a flashlight that’s hanging from one of the roots in the ceiling – Naruto stays crouched in the tunnel, out of the light’s reach. The harsh shadows allow him to stay hidden while he looks into the room.

The stranger is sitting on the other side of the room, across from where Naruto is. He’s facing the end of the tunnel; if Naruto weren’t hidden in the darkness, the stranger would be staring him directly in the face. It’s nerve-wracking. It makes Naruto want to hold his breath, as to not make any more movement than necessary.

The whole situation makes Naruto want to hold his breath anyway, because that smell that he noticed before – the blood and sweat – is much stronger down here. He thinks he’s found the source of the smell: the stranger’s silvery-white hair is pasted to his forehead with sweat, and his clothes are stained dark with blood. If that blood is his own, then he’s pretty badly injured.

Despite the fact that the stranger is possibly hurt, Naruto has a nagging suspicion that he shouldn’t underestimate him. There’s some sort of aura around this guy, an aura that screams stay away, that screams dangerous. Naruto vaguely remembers Iruka-sensei saying that some shinobi can give off that kind of aura on purpose – killing intent, or something like that? At any rate, it sounds like bad news.

Naruto stills as he comes to a much more chilling realization: why would this guy put effort into giving off a dangerous aura on purpose, if he thinks that he’s alone?

He knows that Naruto is here. He must know. The only reason why he hasn’t done anything yet, is because he’s sparing Naruto. He’s probably hoping that Naruto will get scared and run off. He’s giving him another chance to leave, and Naruto should really take that offer.

Unfortunately, Naruto didn’t come here to observe this random guy and then quietly leave again. He came here to confront him, and so confront him he will.

Quickly, before he loses his nerve, Naruto steps into the light, putting on the most dangerous expression he can muster.

The stranger looks up at him from underneath his sweaty hair. Most of his face is hidden behind his hair and behind a mask, but his right eye is visible – judging from the small part of his face that Naruto can see, he doesn’t look the slightest bit surprised, or intimidated. “What do you want?” he asks. That rough voice of his is still scary.

Naruto clenches his fist around his kunai, trying to think while simultaneously keeping up that intimidating look on his face. What is he supposed to say? He didn’t think ahead this far.

He was planning on saying something cool, like “Who the Hell are you?” or “Get away from my village!”, but what comes out of his mouth instead is: “You smell like a corpse.”

The stranger huffs a laugh that sounds a lot like a cough. “Not quite there yet,” he replies. There’s a sharp, threatening undertone to his words. “I’m in plenty good shape to kill you if you don’t leave me the Hell alone.”

Those words make anger rise in Naruto’s chest again, and he scowls. “No,” he replies, maybe a bit too loudly. “You don’t own these woods. You don’t get to tell me to leave.” He points his kunai at the stranger. “Who are you, anyway? Are you here to attack my village?”

“What are you going to do with that information once you have it?” the stranger asks. “You’re, like, five. You don’t have any use for that information.”

“I’m ten,” Naruto starts, but he falters immediately. The stranger is right; it doesn’t matter whether he knows his intentions or not. If he goes back to Konoha and tells the Hokage that there’s some guy outside the village walls who’s planning to attack the village, then the Hokage will know that Naruto was outside of the village walls. The Hokage is one of the only people in Konoha who treat Naruto well. He doesn’t want the Hokage to be mad at him, so he can’t know that Naruto broke the rules. Which means that Naruto can’t tell him about the stranger.

Naruto clears his throat. “Just tell me. I just want to know.” He stares the stranger right in the eye. “I promise I won’t tell anyone what you tell me, and I promise I won’t tell anyone that I saw you here. That’s what you want, right? I promise, and I never go back on my word.”

The stranger narrows his visible eye at Naruto, and Naruto tries not to flinch underneath his gaze. Then, the stranger nods his chin towards him. “I saw that you were carrying a squirrel earlier,” he says. “How about you give me that, and then I’ll answer your questions?”

Naruto frowns at him. “I can give you half,” he replies. “I caught it myself. I’m not giving you all of it.”

“Fine,” the stranger replies. “But I won’t answer all of your questions, then. I’ll answer two, and no more than that.”

Naruto gives it some thought, then nods. “Deal.”

He takes out the squirrel from his backpack, and the stranger takes it from him and starts to prepare the squirrel. Apparently he’s planning on eating right here and now. He’s probably hungry, which Naruto understands.

Naruto tries to talk to the man again, but he doesn’t really reply much. It seems that he’s not answering any questions until after he’s eaten. Naruto watches him quietly as he skins the squirrel and uses a small Fire ninjutsu to cook it. Naruto notices that he mostly uses his left hand, and that he seems to have trouble forming the signs for the Fire ninjutsu with both hands. There are sticks tied around his right hand and forearm with scraps of fabric; Naruto had thought that it was a fashion statement at first, but he now recognizes it as a splint.

Not much later, the stranger has laid out a piece of fabric on the ground in lieu of a plate, and he’s laid the cooked squirrel on top of it, divided into two equal parts. It smells good. Naruto tries his best to squash down his hunger, and fails.

The stranger gestures at the ground. “Sit down,” he says. “Let’s eat.”

Naruto narrows his eyes at him, but he slowly sits down regardless. He lays his kunai on the ground next to him – within reach – and tears off a piece of the squirrel with his hands. He takes his time to inspect the food, even though there isn’t really any possibility of it being poisoned; he watched the stranger’s every move.

Carefully, he takes a bite. It tastes normal.

When he looks up, the stranger has already finished about half of his share, chewing on the mouthful of food underneath his mask. He’s watching Naruto intently, probably to make sure that he’s not going to attack him, but he doesn’t seem as tense anymore. The threatening aura has ebbed away a bit.

The stranger gestures at Naruto with a squirrel bone. “Ask your questions,” he says. “Let’s get it over with.”

Ah. Right. Questions. Naruto could’ve spent his time thinking about that, but he didn’t. He scrambles to put the stuff that he wants to know into words.

“Why are you here?” he asks eventually.

He could swear that the stranger’s jaw tenses at that. “To visit,” he replies. Maybe it’s Naruto’s imagination, but it seems like his voice is a bit quieter than before. “I was traveling to Konoha to visit some old friends of mine.” He clears his throat. “I’m not here to attack your village, if that’s what you want to know.”

Naruto stares at him for a moment, trying to figure out whether he’s telling the truth. He decides to believe the stranger. If he were lying, surely he wouldn’t sound so sad, right?

“I have another question,” Naruto says after a beat.

“Of course you do,” the stranger replies around a new mouthful of food – he’s somehow managed to stuff the rest of his food into his mouth as well without Naruto noticing.

“Are you a missing-nin?” Naruto asks him. He feels like it might be a stupid question, but the thing is that he just can’t tell whether this guy is a missing-nin. Missing-nin often wear their old forehead protector with the symbol of their village crossed out – that’s how you can tell that they’re missing-nin, if Naruto understands right. This stranger doesn’t wear a forehead protector at all.

But then again, he also doesn’t seem like a civilian. He has a kunai, he can give off killing intent, he used a Fire ninjutsu just now. All things that are super unusual for civilians. So either he’s a shinobi, or he used to be one, or he’s a really weird civilian, and Naruto can’t tell which of those options is true.

The point is, he figures it might be easier to ask than to try and figure it out himself.

The stranger chews thoughtfully, his jaw moving underneath his mask. “Officially, I am a missing-nin,” he replies. He clicks his tongue. “I’m not overly fond of that title, though.”

“What do you mean by that?” Naruto asks, cocking his head to the side.

The stranger grins, his one visible eye curving up, and shakes his head. “I said I’d answer two questions, remember?”

“Hey, that’s not fair--”

“I did what I promised to do,” he says, leaning his back against the wall. He seems tired, his shoulders hunched and his voice even rougher than before. He clears his throat. “You got your answers. Now get out.”

“I’m not done eating,” Naruto protests. He’d been so focused on the conversation that he’s barely had the time to eat at all.

The stranger gives him a long and weary look. “Just eat your damn food and then leave me alone,” he just says. He leans the back of his head against the wall as well. His hand rests on his side, on top of the biggest blood stain on his sweater. He seems a bit out of breath.

Naruto watches him, chewing thoughtfully. It’s becoming increasingly clear to him that this missing-nin really isn’t in the best shape. His hand – or his wrist, or whatever – is definitely broken, and his sweater is covered in blood that may or may not be his own, and he sounds like he’s very adamantly trying to hide that he’s sick.

This missing-nin didn’t make this hole for himself just for the Hell of it – he’s here because something happened, and because he can’t go anywhere else. Maybe that’s why he was so hungry, Naruto realizes. Maybe he hasn’t been able to get food for himself. For how long has he been stuck in this hole without food?

“Hey.” The stranger gives him a sharp look through his eyelashes. “What’re you looking at?”

“Sorry. Just wondering,” Naruto replies, looking away. “Are you so prickly because you’re stuck here?”

The stranger huffs a laugh that ends with a muffled cough. “I’m not going to answer that, and you know it.”

Naruto makes a grumbling noise. “I was just curious.”

He finishes his share of the squirrel in silence and gets up, almost hitting his head against the roots that poke from the ceiling. He bends down to pick up his kunai from the ground; he notices the way the stranger tenses up, so he makes sure to move slowly as he puts the kunai into his backpack.

“Well,” he says, hesitantly. “I’ll be going, then.”

The stranger is quiet, just watches Naruto as he makes his way out of the room. So this is it, then? Naruto is just supposed to quietly go home with the knowledge that there’s some guy stuck in a hole outside the village, and he can’t tell anyone about it? Worse than that, he’s just supposed to live with the knowledge that he might’ve left the stranger to starve to death because he can’t get food for himself?

Starving to death is one of Naruto’s worst fears – he can’t just inflict that on someone. Not even if that someone is a missing-nin.

Especially not if said missing-nin has been treating Naruto less awfully than most people in the village do.

As Naruto crouches down to crawl out through the tunnel again, he makes up his mind. He turns around to the stranger. “Wait,” he begins, and the stranger sighs.

“What is it now?”

“I’d like to propose a deal,” Naruto says, turning to face the stranger. “I come back tomorrow with more food, and you answer more of my questions.”

The stranger stares at Naruto for a long, long time. “You’re not serious,” he says eventually.

“I am,” Naruto replies.

“You realize how risky this is, right?” the stranger says, his voice rising into an incredulous cough-laugh. “I’m a missing-nin. Konoha’s law forbids helping missing-nin. If your village finds out that you’re helping me, they’ll lock you up for life. They might even execute you. You’re just a kid. It’s screwed up.”

Naruto hadn’t considered all of those things, but that won’t stop him. He’s never been very good at following rules and laws and stuff, anyway. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he says. If he’s caught, he’s sure that Hokage-jiji will have mercy on him. Well, he’s about eighty percent sure, but that’s enough.

The stranger shakes his head. “You need better impulse control, kid.” He hesitates, and then heaves a sigh again. “Fine. I accept your deal.”

Naruto grins triumphantly. “All right,” he says. “I’ll be back tomorrow, then!” He moves to crawl out of the hole, but then pauses again. “Ah, one more thing. I forgot to ask your name.”

The stranger studies Naruto thoughtfully, chewing on the inside of his cheek underneath his mask. “Dog,” he then says.

“Dog?” Naruto asks, wrinkling his nose.

“Dog,” Dog confirms.

Naruto studies him, his eyes narrowed. “That’s not your real name.”

“Maybe not. You didn’t ask for my real name. And also, I said I’d answer two questions honestly, and this is already, like, your fiftieth question.” He gestures broadly at Naruto with his not-injured hand. “Now go home,” he stresses, “before it gets so dark that you can’t find your way back. If you get lost, we’re both screwed.”

“Fine, fine,” Naruto grumbles, but he can barely hide the excitement in his voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He practically sprints home after that, and when he gets back to his apartment, he’s too restless to fall asleep. There’s an excitement bubbling in his chest, a feeling that he’s doing something important.

The people of Konoha have been telling him that he’s worthless for years and years – for so long that Naruto started believing it himself. But he’s not worthless, and now he gets to prove it to himself. If he can help Dog-san survive, then he can finally prove to himself that he’s worth something, at least.

And, also: it’s honestly really cool to talk to someone who doesn’t despise Naruto by default. Naruto is excited to talk to him more.

He lies in bed like that, wide awake, grinning to himself.

This is a good day.

Chapter Text

Each year on October 11^th, Kakashi traveled to Konoha to visit his old teammates’ graves.

It had been this way ever since he was fourteen: no matter how far away from Konoha he was, he returned there each year on October 11^th. No matter the risk, he would sneak into the village to pay his respects.

October 11^th was the day he left Konoha, ten years ago – the day he became a missing-nin. It was an important date to him. He had all but let go of his past as a shinobi by now, but the tradition of visiting his teammates’ graves was the one tether to his past that he refused to cut.

So he made a decision, a rule for himself: on October 11^th, he would go to Konoha. He would follow that rule, no matter what.

He would follow that rule, even if it meant traveling for days with a high fever and barely any oxygen in his lungs.

He’d already been sick when he left for Konoha – the result of spending three weeks in Rain and never being out of the rain long enough for his clothes to fully dry. It was just a cold, or so he told himself. It was just a cold, definitely not pneumonia, and it wasn’t that bad, and he wouldn’t let it keep him from going to Konoha. He could handle it; he would go visit his teammates’ graves, even if he was a bit under the weather. And so, he set out to go to Konoha from Rain.

The journey was long and tiring, but Kakashi pushed through his exhaustion. He wouldn’t make it to Konoha before October 11^th if he took the time to let himself rest. He was already slower than he would’ve liked; if anything, he should be taking fewer breaks.

He knew, logically, that his teammates wouldn’t care if he were late – but he still didn’t like the idea of being late. It reminded him too much of Obito. So he pushed on, not letting himself rest and not letting himself complain. He stifled his coughs and he ignored his fever and he only paused when he felt like he was going to pass out.

He did not let himself consider turning back. The Land of Fire’s forest was dangerous territory for missing-nin – Konoha shinobi passed through here a lot – but Kakashi was skilled, and good at passing for a civilian. He could make it to the village, sneak in, pay his respects without being noticed, and leave again. He’d done it before; he’d been doing it successfully for the past decade. The fact that his skull felt like it was filled with concrete would not stop him.

It was uncharacteristically optimistic of him, but he was determined.

It was because of that optimism, because of that determination, that he eventually ended up lying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood.

The bodies of two Konoha shinobi lay next to him, both unmoving. They were curled up on the ground, the fallen leaves underneath them dark and sticky with blood. Kakashi would’ve preferred not to kill them – leaving dead bodies in his wake wasn’t exactly a good way to keep a low profile – but they’d given him no choice. They’d mistaken him for a civilian at first, but Kakashi’s control over his chakra had slipped, and then one of them recognized his chakra signature--

If he hadn’t killed them, they would’ve killed him. What a damn mess.

He pressed his hands tighter against his side, hissing short breaths through his teeth. The hilt of a kunai was sticking out from his side, the blade buried in his flesh. It was a stupid injury, stupid. He’d underestimated his opponents, and he’d overestimated himself. He shouldn’t have taken on two jounin while he could barely stand on his feet.

Hell, he shouldn’t have come to Konoha at all. He knew that it was dangerous, and he knew that he would need to be stealthy, and he knew that his chakra control always sucked whenever he had a fever. He should’ve just turned back and returned when he felt less shitty.

Well. This was what optimism and determination got him, he supposed.

He squeezed his eyes shut and gasped for air, trying to gather the strength to get up. He couldn’t stay here, no matter how much his body protested against moving. He was less than half an hour away from Konoha. Sooner or later, someone would stumble across him if he stayed here – and if that someone was a shinobi who decided to fight Kakashi, he would certainly not survive. He had to get out of here.

He raised his head off the ground, and the world tilted dangerously around him. Ignoring the wave of dizziness, he rolled himself onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. He stayed like that for a while, his chest heaving. The wound in his side was giving off nauseating waves of pain.

Slowly, very slowly, Kakashi pushed himself into a sitting position, his knees automatically bending up in an instinctive attempt to curl in on himself. He was trembling all over; the blood loss, the pain and the fever were taking their toll on his body. The prospect of getting up felt impossible.

He moved to brace a hand on the ground, intending to push himself to his feet, but he pulled back his hand with a hiss. He hadn’t paid much attention to it before – which made sense, considering that there was a kunai sticking from his side – but his right wrist was swollen and rapidly turning purple. One of the shinobi had twisted his hand earlier to make him drop his weapon, and Kakashi had felt something snap inside his wrist, but he’d hoped that it was the kind of thing that he’d just shake off. Upon closer inspection, it seemed that he wasn’t that lucky. His wrist was sprained at best, or broken at worst. Either way, it was going to suck for a while.

With his left hand, he fished a senbon from the pocket of his sweater and stuck it into the chakra point in his right elbow. His lower arm went numb immediately, the throbbing in his hand disappearing now that the chakra flow had been cut off. Kakashi exhaled a sigh of relief and bit back the cough that followed.

He returned the senbon to his pocket, took a slow breath – as slow as his irritated lungs would allow – and shakily pulled his feet underneath himself. The kunai in his side shifted as he straightened up, and Kakashi choked back a groan and doubled over.

Somehow, he managed to stay on his feet, despite the blinding pain. The dark spots in his vision faded eventually, and Kakashi gritted his teeth and stumbled over to where his backpack was lying on the ground; he’d thrown his backpack at one of his opponents later on in the fight, as a last-ditch effort at distracting them. It had worked, though his backpack had gotten sliced clean in half as a result. Everything that Kakashi owned – which wasn’t much – was now strewn across the ground.

Thankfully, the shinobi had been carrying packs as well. Kakashi wrestled their backpacks off their unmoving bodies and inspected the contents of the packs. The shinobi’s supplies were scarce, which made sense; they’d been on their way back to the village after a mission, so of course they wouldn’t have been carrying much anymore. There were some weapons, two half-empty flasks of water, and mission rations that had all but run out. One of the shinobi was carrying a basic first-aid kit. Kakashi knew from his experiences in ANBU – long, long ago – that standard shinobi first-aid kits never held enough bandages, so he cut off a few strips of cloth from the shinobi’s uniforms to use in case he ran out of bandages.

It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Kakashi stuffed the supplies into one of the backpacks and picked up his own things from the ground. He carefully made sure not to leave anything behind, even though the repetitive motion of bending down to pick up his things was agonizing.

Kakashi pulled the backpack onto his back – which hurt, damn it – and exhaled a slow breath. The backpack wasn’t very heavy, but the weight pulled on his side regardless.

Clenching his jaws, he brought his hands together and signed. The numbness in his right hand and the fracture in his wrist made it difficult to sign; he had to move the fingers of his right hand with his left hand to slowly form the signs for an Earth ninjutsu.

The Earth ninjutsu swallowed up the two dead bodies, burying them deep underground. They might be discovered eventually, but by then, Kakashi’s trail would’ve long gone cold.

The Earth ninjutsu left the battleground looking like there had never been a fight at all, and it left Kakashi’s chakra reserves uncomfortably low. He rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes, hoping that that would help the dark spots in his vision disappear. His brow felt hot and sweaty underneath his hand.

He exhaled slowly and turned around, turned his back in the direction of Konoha. He had to get out of here, as fast as possible – he wasn’t sure where he was going to go, but it didn’t matter to him. As long as it wasn’t here. The best option was probably to find the nearest village that was not Konoha, scrape together enough chakra to use a henge so that he wouldn’t be recognized, and then lie low in an inn for as long as necessary. The idea of going somewhere relatively safe and collapsing into a bed sounded really damn great right now.

With that goal in mind, Kakashi set out. His footsteps were uneven and his vision was blurred with pain, but he didn’t let himself succumb to the weakness. The nearest village was a couple of hours away. He could make it there if he just pushed through his pain for a bit longer.

He was optimistic, and determined. These were the same feelings that had gotten him into this mess. Kakashi wasn’t focusing on that, though; his head hurt too much to focus on much of anything. He just needed to keep going. That was all he could focus on.

Just a few more hours. Just a few more hours – that was what he kept holding on to. Just a few more hours, and he’d be safe. Just a few more hours, and he’d finally let himself rest.

Just a few more hours. How long had it been since he’d turned his back to Konoha? Minutes, probably. Each step jolted the wound in his side. He could barely breathe, and each shaky inhale jolted the wound. Hell, even the simple effort of staying upright was enough to make his side scream out; he had to walk with his shoulders hunched, because straightening his back was agonizing. He’d only been walking for a few minutes, but it felt like it’d been an eternity.

He kept his good hand pressed against his side, a strip of cloth pressed against the wound around the kunai that still stuck from his side. He’d take out the kunai later, when he was somewhere safer. Right now, the kunai was helping his blood stay inside his body. If he took the blade out now, the wound would start bleeding worse, and Kakashi didn’t have time to deal with that right now. Not when he could stumble across more Konoha shinobi at any moment. He kept pressure on the wound, but with each step, he could feel his hand grow weaker.

He was trembling all over. The pain in his side made him feel like he was about to throw up. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move his right hand. He was far too warm. He was far too cold. The blood loss was starting to make his limbs go numb. He felt like he was going to pass out. But he didn’t let himself rest. He had to get the Hell away from here, before his problems grew even bigger.

Just a few more hours. Just a few more hours. Just a few more hours--

His vision swayed suddenly – and the next moment, Kakashi was on his knees. He’d lost his balance, though he hadn’t noticed it happening. The impact of his knees hitting the ground sent white-hot agony through his entire abdomen, and Kakashi curled in on himself, gasping desperately for air. The gasping turned into coughing, and the coughing jolted the wound in his side more. His mind went blank with pain.

He wasn’t certain how long he sat there for, fighting to get air into his lungs as he waited for the pain to ebb away. He was aware of nothing except the pain and the knowledge that he needed to get up. He wasn’t safe here. The nearest village was only hours away. It wasn’t far. He would be safe there. If he could just get to his feet again--

He shifted his balance, intending to carefully get up, but the world tilted dangerously as soon as he tried to move. He squeezed his eyes shut, hissing through his teeth. Damn it. Damn it, he wasn’t going anywhere.

He’d pushed himself past his limit.

It took a while longer before he actually accepted that fact, sitting hunched over on his knees in the middle of Fire’s forest. Eventually, he exhaled a resigned sigh and brought his hands together again.

This Earth ninjutsu was one that he’d known for almost a decade; it was one of the first ninjutsu he picked up after he’d become a missing-nin. It was a ninjutsu with the purpose of hiding, and he’d never needed to hide before that moment.

A tunnel opened in front of him, just tall enough for him to crawl into. Kakashi hid the entrance of the hole behind a bush and crawled into the tunnel, holding his broken wrist against his chest. He had to pause a couple of times, leaning against the side of the tunnel, because the blood loss made him too dizzy to continue.

Finally, he reached the end of the tunnel; a small underground room. It was too dark to see properly, so Kakashi took his flashlight from his backpack and tied it to one of the roots that stuck from the ceiling with some wire. It was difficult to fasten the wire to the flashlight and then to the root with only one hand – at some point, Kakashi accidentally dropped the flashlight from the ceiling, and the flashlight’s light dimmed significantly after that.

Once he had some light to work in, he applied seals to the inside of the room, to hide away his chakra signature. He was hidden fairly well like this, but Byakugan users could still see his chakra signature from kilometers away. The seals would keep that from happening.

When the seals were finished – when Kakashi was as safe as he could be – he finally let himself rest. He gingerly shrugged out of his backpack and leaned himself against the wall, his left hand pressed weakly against his side. The air down here was stifling, he noticed idly. It itched in his lungs. Breathing past that itch was exhausting.

Rolling his head to the side, he eyed his backpack. He knew that he should tend to his injuries, but even the thought of taking the first-aid kit out of his backpack was too tiring. The exhaustion and the pain made his limbs impossibly heavy. He couldn’t move.

Accepting defeat, he allowed his eyes to slip shut.

The first day he was stuck in the hole, Kakashi’s body greedily took the rest that it had been missing out on. Kakashi slept for a long time, trapped in fever dreams that he was too exhausted to wake up from. The pain from his wound and the sensation of being unable to breathe followed him in his dreams.

The second day, he somehow scraped together enough energy to take care of his injuries. He splinted his wrist with some semi-straight roots that he cut from the ceiling and with the strips of cloth that he’d cut from the shinobi’s uniforms. He removed the kunai from his side, biting hard on his sleeve the entire time, and stitched the wound. He had to stitch the cut with his left hand, which was shaking a lot; the stitches ended up crooked as a result. The whole ordeal was dizzyingly painful, despite the fact that he’d taken a painkiller from the first-aid kit. He was barely able to bandage the wound before he passed out again.

The third day, his body seemed a bit less intent on being unconscious. Kakashi managed to eat and drink a little, despite the nausea that had claimed his abdomen. The wound in his side was swollen badly, and it throbbed with every breath. Each time he coughed, the pain would flare up, and it took minutes before it ebbed away again. Kakashi kind of wished that his body would knock him out again, but that didn’t happen.

The fourth day, the chakra flow to his right hand started to restore itself, and the pain from his broken wrist returned slowly yet relentlessly. Kakashi considered shutting down the chakra flow to his hand again, but doing that too often could leave permanent damage. He resigned himself to bearing the pain.

The fifth day, he ran out of food, despite the fact that it felt like he’d barely eaten anything. He should leave, he knew – he should leave to find food. He was in the middle of Konoha’s forest; it should be easy to find food here. No matter how hard he tried, though, he was too weak to get up. The exit of the hole was right there, yet the possibility of hunting or scavenging was impossibly out of reach. No matter, Kakashi decided wearily. He wouldn’t starve to death just yet. He had a bit of time to gather his strength. He’d deal with it tomorrow.

But on the sixth day, he couldn’t get up, either. The lack of food had made him weaker than ever before. He tried to move, to crawl out of the hole, but he hardly made it a meter before the burning in his side made him crumple to the ground, trembling uncontrollably and barely able to breathe. He fell asleep there, too sick and in too much pain and too hungry to stay awake.

The seventh day started with the realization that he was going to starve to death in here.

Somehow, his day got worse from there on out.

He felt the presence of a chakra signature before he heard the footsteps, and his breath froze in his chest. Someone was here, and they were close.

Worse, this chakra signature felt familiar. It felt too strong to be a human’s, unnaturally large and overwhelming – a human’s chakra signature mixed with something decidedly not human.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose when he finally recognized the chakra signature: it was that of the Nine-Tails’ jinchuuriki. He recognized this chakra signature, because it was the same as Kushina’s.

Except it couldn’t be Kushina’s chakra signature, because she’d been dead for a decade.

It felt as though his insides had been dipped in ice water. Some part of him, some raw sorrowful illogical part of him, grasped on to the hope that this was truly Kushina. That she’d somehow come back from the dead. If that were true, then maybe not everything was lost.

The footsteps approached, and Kakashi held his breath. It was silent for a moment, and then a boy’s voice followed – a boy’s voice, not Kushina’s.

“Hello? You still alive in there?”

It took Kakashi’s sluggish mind a moment before he realized what that meant. A kid – a boy – whose chakra signature was the same as Kushina’s, and who was walking around the woods around Konoha, and who sounded like he’d be young enough to still be in the Academy?

This wasn’t Kushina – it was her son. Namikaze Naruto, or Uzumaki Naruto, if the village had decided that taking on his father’s last name was too risky for him.

Kakashi felt like he was going to be sick. Shit. Shit, this couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t have Minato and Kushina’s kid stumble across him – Kakashi had left Konoha specifically because everyone around him died. He had severed all of his bonds with the village because he couldn’t lose anyone else.

If this kid got too close to him, he would die, too. Kakashi was cursed that way.

He heard the kid clear his throat, and then shout into the tunnel: “Hey, I’m coming down there!”

Kakashi was gripped with an overwhelming realization: he needed this kid to get away from him.

Fueled by nothing but pure adrenaline, Kakashi focused his chakra and managed a Body-Flicker. He ended up behind Naruto, lightly pressing the flat side of a kunai against the boy’s throat; not enough to cut him, but hopefully enough to scare him. If Kakashi scared him badly enough, maybe the kid would leave him alone. It was safer for him that way.

“Get the Hell out of here,” Kakashi hissed. He was badly out of breath, and his voice stung in his throat. The quick movement of the Body-Flicker had jolted his side, and he almost couldn’t speak through the pain. This was the most he’d moved in a week, and he’d probably need another week to recover from this. “Don’t come back,” he gritted out. “You never saw me here, understood?”

The next moment, Naruto had already dashed away. Kakashi sat back on the ground, his breath rasping in his throat as he watched the kid’s orange vest fade from view in between the trees. The kid was smart. Smart enough not to pick a fight with a missing-nin twice his size, at least.

It made something ache inside his chest, though. This was Minato and Kushina’s child. Kakashi remembered Minato saying that Naruto would grow up with Kakashi around; maybe he would end up seeing Kakashi as an older brother of sorts. Kakashi had played it off as a joke at the time – even back then, he wasn’t too keen on letting new people into his life, because that only meant that he had more to lose – but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t entertained the thought. Maybe Naruto would grow up to see Kakashi as an older brother of sorts.

Except that never happened. And now, Naruto would only know Kakashi as the random missing-nin in the woods who held a kunai to his throat.

Kakashi sighed and forced the thought to the back of his mind. He’d learned to stop focusing on the hypothetical a long time ago; he’d spent years only thinking about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t lost everyone he cared about, and it had almost driven him mad. In the end, it didn’t matter what Naruto thought of him, as long as he was alive and safe. And his best chance of staying alive and safe was to stay far away from Kakashi.

Except the kid didn’t stay away from Kakashi. He came back, with too much courage to react to Kakashi’s attempts at scaring him away anymore. Kakashi should’ve anticipated that Naruto wouldn’t be scared away that easily; fearlessness was in his blood, after all.

He came back, and coincidentally, that made sure that Kakashi didn’t starve to death that day. He left with the promise of returning with more food, and Kakashi wanted so badly to protest. Kakashi wanted this kid – the only hint of Minato and Kushina that was left in this world – to be safe. He needed Naruto to stay away from him.

Except Kakashi was pragmatic enough to know that that wasn’t an option. Naruto was offering him a way to survive. If Kakashi didn’t accept his help, he would starve to death. Plain and simple.

So Kakashi accepted the kid’s help. It was selfish, he knew that. He was ensuring his own safety by putting Naruto in danger.

When Naruto turned his back and left to go home, Kakashi finally allowed his exhaustion and pain and panic to catch up with him. He was filled with that specific kind of nausea that came with reawakening a very old fear.

That evening, in that hole in the ground, Kakashi had the worst panic attack he’d had in years. This wasn’t right. It had been ten years since he’d last had to worry about losing someone; he’d spent the last decade alone. He’d been so very careful not to let anybody get too close.

And now here he was, asking a person to put themselves in danger so that Kakashi could live. And not just any person: no, of course this person had to be Namikaze Naruto, Kakashi’s mentor’s son. The one person that Kakashi had hoped to keep out of danger.

Kakashi had already known that the universe wasn’t kind, but as it turned out, fate was even more cruel and twisted than he’d thought.

This was a terrible day.

Chapter Text

“Dog-san! Hey, Dog-san! Can I come in?”

A voice cuts through the dense murkiness in Kakashi’s head. Kakashi twitches in his sleep, the sound not quite enough to wake him. He’s dreaming, or that’s what his feverish mind tells him at least. He’s dreaming, and the voice isn’t really there. He can keep sleeping.

“Dog-san!”

He’s just dreaming, he doesn’t need to wake up. Even if there’s really someone out there, they’re not looking for Kakashi, anyway. They’re looking for “Dog-san”, whoever that may be. Kakashi doesn’t need to react. He just wants to keep sleeping, he’s still so tired--

The voice sighs loudly, and shouts: “I’m coming in, okay? Please don’t point a kunai at me again.”

Kakashi wearily cracks his right eye open, his sleep now officially disturbed. He’s opened his eye just in time to see a form block out the light from outside – the fingers of his left hand have already reflexively curled around a kunai before his sluggish mind has put together that he’s not in danger.

It’s just Naruto. Naruto, whom Kakashi met for the first time yesterday. Naruto, who had promised to be back with food. It takes Kakashi an embarrassingly long time to remember all of that; yesterday feels like a fever dream, rather than reality.

Kakashi returns the kunai to his pocket, berating himself for not noticing Naruto’s chakra signature earlier. If the kid hadn’t announced his presence, he could’ve easily snuck up on Kakashi. It’s an embarrassing realization. That fever is messing with every instinct he has.

Kakashi listens as Naruto shuffles down the tunnel. A bit of sunlight spills past the kid’s shadow. It must be evening; the opening of the tunnel faces West, away from Konoha, and as a result, some sunlight makes it into the hole in the evenings.

So it’s evening. Kakashi rubs at his face, biting back a frustrated groan. He slept through the entire day – again. It’s done nothing to relieve the heavy feeling of exhaustion in his body.

He clenches his jaws and slowly rolls onto his side, trying to remember why he was sprawled out face-down on the ground with his backpack on his back. Judging by the backpack and the uncomfortable sleeping position, he can only guess that falling asleep wasn’t his intention.

The memory returns slowly, through the fog in Kakashi’s mind: he’d tried to run away last night, when he was no longer hyperventilating and he’d come to his senses. He’d realized that he wasn’t only putting Naruto in danger by accepting his help, but that he was putting himself in danger as well; for all he knew, Naruto was going to run straight to the Hokage and send a dozen ANBU after him.

Unfortunately, Kakashi’s attempts at leaving the hole were once again unsuccessful. The panic attack and the ninjutsu he’d used yesterday had drained him of what little energy he’d managed to regain – he’d passed out before he’d even made it outside.

Luckily for him, Naruto knows when to keep his word, because he’s come back, alone and with food. He enters the underground room cautiously, a dangling rabbit in one hand and a kunai in the other. Now that the kid is in front of him again, Kakashi is once again reminded of how familiar Naruto’s chakra signature is, and of how much he looks like his parents. Kakashi had thought that he’d gotten used to that knowledge, but it feels like a punch to the gut nonetheless. He hauls himself into a sitting position; he feels less vulnerable that way. The burning in his side is a welcome distraction from the tightness in his throat.

Naruto blinks a couple of times, his eyes getting used to the flashlight’s dim light. His eyes meet Kakashi’s, and his face lights up. “Hey, you are still here!” he exclaims, putting his kunai away. “Why didn’t you answer me? I thought you might’ve left while I was gone. Or died.”

“Still here,” Kakashi murmurs, the groggy tone scraping against the raw inside of his throat, “and still alive. I was just asleep.” He gives Naruto a serious look. “You really shouldn’t come in here if you’re not sure whether I’ve heard you. Don’t do that again.”

“Why?” Naruto asks. “I mean, I guess I get that you value your privacy--”

“No, that’s not it,” Kakashi cuts him off. “It’s because if you sneak up on me, my first reflex will be to stab you.”

Naruto’s mouth snaps shut, his eyes widening almost comically. “Right. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

“Yeah. Please do.” The thought of accidentally stabbing Namikaze Naruto to death in a startled reflex is not something that Kakashi wants to imagine. The idea of it is so absurdly horrifying that it almost makes Kakashi feel like laughing.

Naruto gives a noncommittal hum, already distracted. “But, anyway-- Look what I caught today!” He holds up the rabbit with a proud grin and hands it to Kakashi.

Kakashi takes the wire that is tied around the animal’s hind legs and studies the rabbit. It doesn’t look like it’s been dead for long; good, because Kakashi does not want to add food poisoning to his long list of problems. Just to be safe, he also sniffs at the rabbit, trying to let his strong sense of smell identify any illnesses that the rabbit may have had while it was alive. He can’t smell very much through the stuffiness in his nose, but it’s probably safe. He decides to trust it.

He looks the rabbit over and then turns back to Naruto. “I’ll trade this for five questions,” he says.

Naruto grins, seeming delighted that Kakashi hasn’t forgotten about their agreement to trade food for information. “Sounds fair to me,” he replies, sitting down on the ground.

Kakashi nods back at him and takes out a kunai, preparing to dress the rabbit. Naruto doesn’t even seem to be worried about the fact that Kakashi is holding a kunai, Kakashi notices. He really should not be so quick to trust a missing-nin.

“I’ve never seen a kunai like that before,” the kid says, leaning to the side to get a better look. “It’s not a kunai from my village, that’s for sure – aren’t you from Konoha? I thought you were from Konoha ‘cause you said you were visiting friends here, but now I’m not sure. Who are those friends of yours, anyway? Maybe I know them.”

“One question at a time,” Kakashi replies absent-mindedly, trying to figure out how he’s going to skin a rabbit with only one properly-functioning hand. He can move the fingers of his right hand a little without hurting himself, but other than that, his right hand is pretty much useless. He managed to get a squirrel ready for consumption with only his left hand yesterday, but that was a far smaller animal…

The emptiness in his stomach urges him to stop trying to strategize, so Kakashi shrugs to himself and cuts the rabbit’s feet off. Naruto watches, seeming interested. He seems to have forgotten about the questions that he wanted to ask. Kakashi is content with not talking – his throat hurts, and he needs to focus in order to not screw up his dinner – so he works in silence.

The process of skinning, as expected, gives him trouble. He really needs two hands, so he decides to just try and use his right hand. Clenching his jaws, he hooks the fingers of both his hands underneath the rabbit’s skin – which is uncomfortable, but not impossible – and pulls.

Pain flares in his broken wrist immediately, and Kakashi grimaces underneath his mask. He decides he can bear the pain, though, so he keeps pulling. He tries to be careful, but it’s difficult to be careful about preparing food when his hands are weak with hunger. That half squirrel from yesterday was his only meal in three days. He needs to get more food in his stomach, as soon as possible, but his damn wrist just won’t cooperate--

“Does that hurt?” Naruto asks suddenly, and it startles Kakashi out of his focus. The kid gestures at Kakashi’s hands, which have stilled in their struggle to skin the rabbit. “I can help you, you know.”

Kakashi stares back at him. “I hope you realize that that counts as the first of your five questions,” he replies – Naruto squawks in protest. “Are you sure you still want me to answer that?”

Naruto frowns at him, and then holds out his hand. “Just give me the rabbit,” he says. “I’ll skin it for you.”

Kakashi hesitates for a moment, reluctantly considers the possibility that he’s making the fracture in his wrist worse by putting this much pressure on it, and sighs. “Fine.”

Naruto takes over the skinning process, and Kakashi leans his back against the wall. His wrist is throbbing; he cradles his hand to his chest, wincing with the movement, and idly watches Naruto try to skin the rabbit.

The kid seems like he sort of knows what he’s doing; his technique is clumsy and the kunai that he’s using seems a bit too blunt, but he seems to be doing an okay job ridding the rabbit of its skin without cutting away too much of the meat. He seems focused, his nose scrunching up a little as he works. It’s a familiar expression, though it takes Kakashi a few seconds to realize where he’s seen it before.

He’s seen it on Kushina’s face, of course. She used to wear the same expression whenever she was reading complicated mission instructions or trying to decide with utmost seriousness what type of ramen she wanted.

The kid’s face is all Minato, though. If Kakashi squinted and forgot for a second what year it is, he would probably mistake Naruto for his father.

The similarities-- They hurt. After a decade, Kakashi had thought that he’d finally started healing from the loss of his sensei and his sensei’s wife, but that familiar expression on this kid’s familiar face is enough to rip the decade-old wounds in Kakashi’s soul right back open.

Kakashi can feel his throat start to close up and his breaths start to come quicker, and he has to turn away to try and avoid launching himself into the second panic attack in twenty-four hours. He presses his back against the wall behind him in an attempt to ground himself, consciously putting effort into keeping his breathing in an even rhythm. It’s a struggle to breathe deeply without coughing.

Thankfully, Naruto doesn’t seem to notice that Kakashi is fighting off hyperventilation; he’s too busy trying to pull the skin off the rabbit with his too-small hands, his face going red with the effort. It’s the last step of the skinning process. Kakashi hadn’t realized that this much time had passed.

“I can see why you were having a hard time with this,” he tells Kakashi. He pauses, looking up at him. “How did you hurt your hand, anyway?”

It takes Kakashi a moment to realize that he’s supposed to reply; it felt like he stopped existing for a little while there. He’s not sure whether to blame his mind, his exhaustion or his fever. Probably all three.

“My hand is fine,” Kakashi replies. To his relief, he finds that he doesn’t sound as breathless as he feels. “It’s my wrist that’s the problem.”

“That’s pretty much the same thing!” Naruto sticks his tongue out at him, and the gesture is so incredibly Kushina that Kakashi can feel his throat close up again. “How’d you hurt your wrist, then?”

“In a fight.”

Naruto’s eyes widen in awe. “Cool!”

Kakashi wonders whether he’d still think it was cool if he knew that that fight killed two shinobi from his own village. “I suppose.”

“I mean, of course it would’ve been even cooler if you hadn’t gotten hurt at all,” Naruto muses absent-mindedly. “But, then again, I don’t know how strong your opponents were. They were probably a lot stronger than you, right? You don’t seem very strong to me.”

Kakashi finds himself letting out a chuckle, and he nods his chin towards the rabbit, which Naruto has abandoned in favor of having this conversation. “That’s mostly because I’m currently starving to death.”

Naruto gives him a sympathetic nod in response. “Yeah, I get that that really doesn’t help with your strength. My sensei always says that you have to eat a lot so that you have a lot of energy, but I get what it’s like to not have that option--” His mind visibly catches up with what Kakashi said, and his eyes widen. “Oh! Sorry! You’re waiting for me to finish preparing the food!”

He returns to the rabbit with renewed, hasty energy, and Kakashi watches him, bemused. For all that the kid looks like his father, he clearly hasn’t inherited Minato’s focus and intelligence. Kushina could be a bit distractible at times, but she wasn’t this distractible. Well, maybe Naruto will grow out of it.

Actually, now that Kakashi thinks of it, Naruto almost reminds him of Obito when it comes to the way he acts. Another painful comparison. He exhales a shaky breath at the thought. He supposes he’s going to have to get used to constantly thinking about the people he’s lost while Naruto is around.

He wishes he could just put the kid under genjutsu and make him forget that Kakashi exists. He wishes he could leave while Naruto isn’t looking and never return. Naruto reminds him so much of everything that he’s lost – Kakashi isn’t certain how much longer he can bear it.

“Done!” Naruto’s voice interrupts his thoughts, and Kakashi looks up to see him proudly hold out the rabbit to him. Kakashi had lost track of time again. “Now it just needs to be cooked. Can you use that jutsu again? The one you used yesterday?”

Kakashi nods and takes the rabbit from Naruto. He’d used a small Fire ninjutsu to cook the squirrel yesterday, and it used up a little bit of his chakra, but it wasn’t an excessive amount. His chakra reserves are desperately low, but he should have enough. Or, he thinks so, at least. It’s pretty hard to judge how much chakra he has left when his mind is foggy with fever and his brain is constantly preoccupied with things that happened over a decade ago.

Before he has the chance to think about it more, he folds his fingers into the signs for the Fire ninjutsu. A sharp pain shoots through his right wrist at the movement, but he tries to ignore it. If the choice is between a bit of pain and starving, he’d much prefer the pain.

Before the pain has a chance to worsen, he finishes the signs.

He can feel his chakra run out.

Well, Kakashi thinks wrily as his vision darkens, he’d been having trouble trying to decide what to do with this whole situation – whether he should stay here or run away, whether he should deal with the memories that Naruto’s presence brings back or risk starving to death.

It turns out that he didn’t need to stress out over that decision at all. His body has just made the decision for him.

Running away won’t be an option any time soon.

With that thought, he loses consciousness.

Chapter Text

Naruto isn’t sure what happens exactly – but one moment, Dog’s eye is open, and the next moment, it’s fluttered shut.

Naruto instinctively flinches back, frowning at Dog’s face. His head lolls limply to the side, his back thumping softly against the wall behind him. The rabbit lies in his lap, perfectly cooked.

“Uhm,” Naruto tries, leaning forward. “Dog-san? You okay?”

Dog doesn’t react; his eyes stay closed, his face stays slack. Naruto can hear him breathe, the air wheezing quietly in his throat.

Naruto fidgets in the silence, unsure of what to do. He belatedly looks behind him, looking for an enemy that might’ve taken Dog out – but there’s no one there. Naruto is entirely alone, apart from Dog, who just passed out for apparently no reason. The solitude reminds Naruto once again that he can ask absolutely no one for help. He has to figure out what to do all by himself.

He scrunches up his nose, trying to think. He’s occasionally seen classmates pass out, when they push themselves too far during ninjutsu training. Iruka-sensei always sits with the kid in question and pats their face until they wake up, and he makes sure that they don’t sit up too quickly. It’s an approach that works, as far as Naruto knows. At least it’s better than doing nothing.

He scoots closer to Dog, reaches out a hand, and pats his face.

A strong hand catches his wrist, squeezing hard enough to hurt. Naruto yelps in surprise. “Hey, ow!” he protests, and the hand quickly lets him go.

Dog is looking at him through his eyelashes, his gaze unfocused. With a shaky sigh, he closes his eye again. “I warned you not to startle me,” he murmurs. “Did I hurt you?”

Naruto examines the bruises on his wrist; they’re already fading from blue to green. “Not really,” he replies. “It’s my own fault, anyway. I totally forgot that I should be careful not to startle you.”

Dog gives an exasperated huff, but he doesn’t respond much more than that. His face is pale, Naruto notices, and his chest is heaving with irregular breaths; it seems like he’s having a hard time breathing. He’d already looked sick before, but he’d at least seemed like he was able to hide it somewhat. Now, though, it seems like what little strength he’d still had has suddenly drained out of him completely.

“Are you okay?” Naruto asks him, and he notices that he sounds worried. He feels worried. It’s really jarring to realize that Dog may be even less okay than Naruto thought.

There’s very little visible of Dog’s face, but Naruto can somehow tell that he’s grimacing. “I’ll answer your question soon,” he replies. His voice is wavering a bit. “I just need a moment to catch my breath first.”

“Sure. I get that.” Naruto nods at him, even though Dog has his eyes closed and can’t see that. “Can I do something to help?”

“Some quiet would help,” Dog replies tiredly.

Naruto laughs nervously; being quiet has never been his strongsuit. “I’ll do my best.”

He manages to stay quiet for a couple of minutes, scratching lines in the ground with his kunai to distract himself – if he doesn’t distract himself, he knows he’ll just forget about his promise to be quiet and start talking again in no time. Iruka-sensei has yelled at him for that often enough.

Thankfully, before that has the chance to happen, Dog clears his throat and sits up a little. He’s moving stiffly, and even the small motion of sitting up makes him visibly wince, but his face is a bit less pale than before.

He notices Naruto’s questioning look, huffs a laugh, and says: “To answer your question from before: I’m okay. Just extremely tired.”

“That’s a load of crap,” Naruto blurts out, and Dog’s eye widens slightly. “You promised you’d answer my questions honestly.”

Dog blinks at him dumbly for a moment, somehow seeming surprised that Naruto saw through his extremely obvious lie. The surprised look soon fades into tiredness, though, and Dog leans against the wall behind him with a sigh.

“Pass,” he murmurs, closing his eye.

Naruto splutters in protest. “You can’t just pass a question,” he exclaims. He’d intended to yell more, but some of his anger fades when he sees that Dog winces at the loud noise. “Fine,” Naruto grumbles, crossing his arms. “You know, if you’re not going to answer me, I’m just going to guess at what’s wrong. All you’ll have to do is nod when I’m right and shake your head when I’m wrong, yeah?”

It’s another thing that he’s seen Iruka-sensei do, whenever someone is too upset or too stubborn to talk. In Dog’s case, definitely too stubborn.

Dog doesn’t answer him, so Naruto just leans back on his hands and hums in thought. “First of all, I think you were lying when you said you were okay,” he starts. When Dog doesn’t react, Naruto tells him bluntly: “And I’m right about that, so you’re supposed to nod, now.”

Dog heaves a sigh, but then his chin dips down into a nearly-unnoticeable nod. Naruto takes the victory.

“And I think you’re kinda sick,” he continues. “Judging by… whatever happened just now, you’re probably sicker than you’re letting on.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, but eventually, Dog nods again.

“And I’m guessing that the blood on your clothes is yours.”

Another nod.

“And I think that-- I think that all of that is why you’re stuck in here. You’re trying to be tough about it, but it’s pretty clear that you can’t move.”

Dog looks at him through his eyelashes. He looks resigned. “That’s enough questions for the day.”

“These weren’t questions,” Naruto points out. Granted, he’s lost count of how many actual questions he’s already asked, but since Dog looks as though he feels like crap, he’s probably stopped counting too.

Dog looks even more resigned, his shoulders slumping a bit. “Fine,” he replies eventually. “You might as well know.” He gives Naruto a sharp look. “Just know that if you ever find yourself in my position, you should always lie. Showing weakness is against the Shinobi Rules, and it’s also generally considered a really dumb move. People will take advantage of you. Remember that if you want to stay alive.”

“But you’re not a shinobi, so you don’t need to care about the Shinobi Rules,” Naruto says. “And I won’t take advantage of you. I just want to help, and I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Dog gives him a slow nod, and he rubs a shaky hand across his face. “You were right,” he says, “about me not being able to move. I got stabbed in the side, I’ve been sick for two weeks and I’m guessing it’s pneumonia, and I just used up too much of my chakra.” He says it all quickly, in a monotone voice, looking away from Naruto. He’s clearly not used to admitting weakness, and he clearly doesn’t like it.

Naruto finds himself falling silent, trying to process all of that. He only half remembers what “chakra” is, but he knows that not having much of it is bad, and he doesn’t have the slightest clue what “pneumonia” is but it’s clearly making Dog pretty sick. And a stab wound on top of that…

“You should be in the hospital,” Naruto states, and Dog huffs a cough-laugh.

“I wholeheartedly agree,” he replies. “Unfortunately, I’m a wanted man, so walking into a hospital would get me arrested immediately. I’d probably get executed for treason.” He nods his chin at the room around them. “Hiding out in a hole is pretty much my only option right now.”

Naruto scratches at the ground with his fingernail, trying to think. This can’t be Dog’s only option, right? “Why not ask a medical-nin to heal you?” he asks. “What if I dragged a medic out here and got them to heal you? Or, maybe you could learn medical ninjutsu yourself!”

Dog shrugs. “If I could teach myself medical ninjutsu, I would’ve done so years ago. I tried, but some people just can’t learn it.” He shakes his head. “And getting a medic out here sounds far too risky. Unless you know a medic that absolutely definitely wouldn’t tattle on me.”

Naruto’s face falls. He doesn’t know many medics at all; he heals really quickly, so he’s only been to the hospital once or twice. He’s seen the school nurse a couple of times, but definitely not often enough to be certain that she’d keep a secret like this. “I guess not,” he admits reluctantly. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a hint of sympathy underneath the tiredness in Dog’s gaze. “Don’t apologize. Even if that plan were possible, I wouldn’t have asked you to take such a risk, anyway.” He stifles a cough. “I’ve already thought through every plan possible, and this is the one that sucks the least. The best option is to rest up here until I’m well enough to walk, and then I’ll get out of here as quickly as possible. I just need to hope that the shinobi from your village don’t find me before then. And that I don’t die of starvation or cough myself to death before I get the chance to heal.”

He seems flippant, but the anxiety is clear in his voice. There’s so much that could go wrong here – Naruto isn’t sure how long it will take Dog to recover, but judging by his solemn tone, it could be days or weeks before he’s well enough to walk. A lot could go wrong during that time.

“Do you think you’re going to survive this?” Naruto asks, and his voice comes out small. He hopes he’ll never have to lose someone, but he certainly hopes that he won’t have to lose the very first friend he’s ever made. That just wouldn’t be fair.

Dog stares ahead of him. “I can’t predict the future,” he replies, “so… maybe.” He notices the startled look on Naruto’s face, and quickly adds: “But I also think that it’s not as serious as it sounds. I’m not actively dying, and I’m relatively safe. It could be worse.”

“And you have me to help you!” Naruto adds.

Dog nods, his expression turning into something more serious. “That’s true,” he says, “but, kid, please remember that it’s really illegal to help missing-nin. I appreciate your help, but do not get yourself in trouble on my behalf.” He gives Naruto a look that would’ve been scary if he’d been better at hiding his worry. “Understood?”

“I’ll be careful not to get in trouble,” Naruto replies with a nod. He’s not very good at being careful, but he’ll try his best. He’ll just have to figure out ways to help that won’t get him in trouble.

“Good,” Dog replies softly, and he lets his eye slip shut, apparently finished with the conversation. He’s frowning, and Naruto can hear the slight hissing sound of him breathing through his teeth. His hand limply lies across his injured side; his entire body seems slack, like there’s not enough strength left in him to keep himself upright. For a moment, Naruto thinks that he’s passed out again, but then Dog speaks again. “I need to sleep for a bit,” he murmurs. “Would you mind leaving me alone?”

“Sure,” Naruto replies, though his gaze falls on the rabbit that’s still lying on Dog’s lap. “You, uhm, you still haven’t eaten yet, though. Shouldn’t you do that first?” He hesitates, some years-old knowledge from a lesson about first aid resurfacing. “Or… Wait, that’s a problem with chakra exhaustion, isn’t it? I don’t really remember…” He trails off; he never paid very much attention in the classes about medical stuff, because none of that information applied to him anyway.

Dog grimaces. “Yeah,” he replies. “If your chakra level gets too low, your body won’t have enough energy left to digest food. I don’t think my chakra level is that low, but if I’m wrong, then eating right now could give me a pretty bad stomach ache. So I’ll take a nap and eat later.” He gives Naruto an apologetic look. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be ungrateful. I do appreciate your help.”

“It’s fine,” Naruto replies quickly, waving his hands around, “I get it.” He gets up from the ground and dusts off his pants. “I’ll be back tomorrow, then,” he says. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thanks,” Dog says hoarsely, his eyes closed. “Be careful on your way back, kid.”

Later that evening, Naruto stands in the middle of his apartment with his hands in his sides and a determined frown on his face. Dog needs more help than Naruto initially thought, but he’s not going to let that stop him. He can figure this out.

Now, how could he help Dog-san get out of this alive?

Uzumaki Naruto, Iruka decides, seems far more distracted than usual today.

It’s not that he’s disruptive, per se – in fact, it seems like he’s making an effort to actually behave for once. But, even though he’s not causing any trouble, he’s bouncing in his seat more than normally, his eyes glued to the clock on the wall. He seems impatient. Like there’s something after school that he almost can’t wait for.

And, considering that Naruto’s after-school activities almost always end with trouble, his impatience worries Iruka.

So, as soon as the school bell rings to signal the end of the day, Iruka walks over to where Naruto is trying to jam his school supplies into his backpack. It seems like his backpack is so full that he almost can’t fit his books into it. Iruka’s worry increases.

Naruto notices Iruka approaching, and he quickly swings his backpack onto his back and holds his books underneath his arm. He gives Iruka a hasty grin and tries to scurry past him. “See you tomorrow, Iruka-sensei!” he says, but Iruka holds out a hand to stop him.

“I’d like to talk to you,” Iruka tells him, “just for a minute.”

A couple of the other students pause to stare and snicker. “Naruto’s in trouble again,” Iruka hears someone sing-song behind him, and he considers snapping at his students for it. He knows it won’t help, though. His students’ disdain for Naruto is stronger than any authority Iruka could ever have over them.

Naruto turns his head to glare at his classmates, though he returns his focus to Iruka quickly enough. “But, sensei!” he protests. “I specifically tried to be quiet so that I wouldn’t have to stay after class! I only shouted in class once today!”

“I know,” Iruka replies. “You’re not in trouble.” Not yet, at least. “I just want to ask you something.”

Naruto grumbles, but he gives Iruka a nod. “Fine. But, can we make it quick? I’ve got somewhere to be. It’s important.”

Iruka chooses to wait until the rest of his students has left the classroom – even if this conversation only lasts for a moment, he knows that his students will find some way to make fun of Naruto for it if they overhear. Once they’re all gone, Iruka closes the door.

Naruto is bouncing on his feet, his mouth tightly pressed shut with barely-contained impatience. “Just tell me what you want from me already,” he says, before he remembers his manners and adds, “please, sensei.”

“There’s just something I want to know for sure,” Iruka says. “When I let you out of this classroom, are you going to cause trouble?”

There’s no hesitance in Naruto’s answer. “No.”

Iruka narrows his eyes at him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost think that Naruto is being honest. Unfortunately, Iruka does know better, and the thought that Naruto has suddenly gotten really good at lying terrifies him more than he cares to admit.

“Then what are you going to do?” he asks.

Naruto narrows his eyes back at him, cautious. “I can’t tell you.”

Okay. Okay, big trouble, then. Judging by the look on Naruto’s face, it may even be something bigger than pouring paint onto the Hokage Rock and throwing stones through windows – this may be something actually illegal.

And if it is, then Iruka needs to know. He may not particularly like Naruto, but he’s not letting this kid go to jail.

“I need you to show me what you’re carrying in your backpack,” Iruka replies, slowly. “I’ll let you leave after that, yeah?”

Naruto tightens his fists around the straps of his backpack, almost protectively. His eyes dart through the classroom; he’s instinctively trying to find a way to escape, but he seems to realize that Iruka would always catch him anyway.

Eventually, he sends Iruka a look that’s filled with fury, and shrugs out of his backpack. “Fine,” he mumbles, setting his backpack on the ground with a surprising carefulness. “You can take a look.”

Iruka walks towards him and kneels down next to the backpack. He’s careful as he zips open the backpack – he’s fully prepared for something to explode in his face, but to his surprise, the backpack isn’t booby-trapped.

Iruka peers into the backpack. He can’t see very much; whatever is inside the backpack is covered by a worn orange blanket. Very cautiously, Iruka reaches for the blanket and pulls it out of the way.

Iruka isn’t sure what he’d been expecting to find, but it sure as Hell wasn’t this.

Carefully wrapped in the blanket are a first-aid kit, a flashlight, a dented old thermos flask, and several cups of ramen. It’s all… weirdly ordinary.

It this a genjutsu? Can’t be. Iruka has never seen Naruto successfully perform a genjutsu before, let alone something this elaborate. He bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood anyway; if it truly was a genjutsu, it should be dispelled, now. Nothing has changed.

He looks up at Naruto, who fidgets under his gaze. The kid sees Iruka’s questioning look and stills, apparently steeling himself.

“There’s this… dog that I’m taking care of,” Naruto says in a murmur, looking away. “He’s hurt and sick, so I’ve gotta help him. I think he’d die without my help.” He shuffles his feet. “I didn’t want to tell you because-- Well, everyone always seems to think that I’m doing something wrong no matter what I do. But I know that I’m doing something right for once. So I figured that it’d be best to keep it a secret, because if people knew, they’d try to stop me.” He looks Iruka straight in the eyes, determination in his gaze. “Please don’t tell anyone. And please don’t try to stop me.”

Iruka chews on the inside of his cheek, trying to think. He’s not certain whether Naruto is telling him the whole truth, but regardless of that, the kid sincerely seems to believe that he’s doing something good. Iruka doesn’t dare think about what it might do to Naruto if Iruka didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt now.

After a moment of thought, Iruka folds the blanket back into Naruto’s backpack and zips the bag closed. “That’s all I wanted to know,” he tells Naruto. “You can go. And,” he decides to add, “you did well in class today. Keep it up.”

“Can’t promise anything, but I’ll try,” Naruto replies with a grin, pulling his backpack onto his back. He seems a lot less tense, now. “See you, sensei!”

He hurries out of the classroom. As he opens the door to the hallway, Iruka calls after him: “One more thing, Naruto.”

Naruto pauses, looking back at him. “What is it?”

Iruka gives him an exasperated look. “You really shouldn’t give ramen to dogs.”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.” He gives Iruka one last grin and hurries into the hallway. “I’ll keep it in mind, bye sensei!”

If Naruto truly is taking care of a dog, Iruka thinks to himself, then he sure as Hell hopes that it’s a resilient dog.

He ponders the thought for a while, staring out of the window. It’s raining cats and dogs outside – has been all day. It doesn’t seem like good weather for pranks. But, then again, that hasn’t stopped Naruto before… Iruka feels a headache coming on.

“Iruka-sensei?” comes a voice from the corridor, pulling him from his thoughts. One of Iruka’s fellow teachers pokes her head through the open door.

“Suzume-sensei,” Iruka greets her; his politeness comes out a bit absent-minded. He shakes himself. “Anything I can help you with?”

She holds up a scroll with one hand, and Iruka instantly recognizes it as a mission scroll. B-rank, from the looks of it. “The Hokage has requested a squad of chuunin,” she replies. “He asked for us Academy teachers. We should gather at Konoha’s gates in half an hour.”

Iruka feels his eyebrows shoot up. “Do you know what we’ve been summoned for?” he asks. Academy teachers are occasionally asked to do regular chuunin missions, though they’re usually informed about their missions a few days in advance so that they can plan their days around it. This feels… urgent. Iruka finds himself irrationally doing math to figure out whether Naruto could’ve had anything to do with this – but, probably not. Probably.

Suzume clicks her tongue. “Two of our jounin have been found dead this afternoon,” she replies, “a few kilometers away from Konoha. They were killed, presumably by a missing-nin – there were signs of an Earth ninjutsu. We’ve been summoned to search for whoever killed them.”

Iruka’s eyebrows shoot up even higher. “That doesn’t sound like it should be a B-rank mission.”

She shrugs. “The briefing said that the jounin had been dead for a week or so. The chance that we’ll actually find the missing-nin is fairly small,” she replies. “That’s probably why the Hokage summoned us instead of chuunin who had something better to do.”

“Ah. I suppose that makes sense.” Iruka is familiar with these kinds of missions: they exist just in case the missing-nin is found anyway, but they’re mostly to keep up the trust that the Hokage is doing everything to keep the village safe. There’s a very small chance that they’ll find the missing-nin – but two jounin were still murdered right outside of the village, and people might start turning against the Hokage if he didn’t do something. “All right. I’ll quickly finish my lesson plan for tomorrow, and I’ll meet you at the gate in thirty minutes.”

Chapter Text

Kakashi has officially decided that he really hates rain.

It’s been raining since this morning, and consequently, Kakashi has been coughing his lungs out all day. The humid air irritates his throat, which makes it even more difficult to breathe than it already was. He’s barely been able to get any sleep because of it, while he needs his sleep so bad.

It’s been ages since he last felt this sick. At some point during the day, all of his various aches and pains had melted together, and now, he’s not certain whether he’s still a human being or just one big blob of misery. Whenever he coughs, he can’t tell whether his injured side is protesting or his entire body. Whenever he makes a wrong move and accidentally jolts his wrist, he can’t tell whether it’s the fracture that hurts or his entire arm. Whenever he tries to move a bit too quickly, the normally-bearable muscle soreness that comes with the chakra exhaustion makes him feel nauseous with pain.

He’s spent most of the day curled up on his good side, shivering from either the fever or the cold, and trying to force himself to finally pass out.

In the afternoon, he senses Naruto’s chakra signature approaching, and he tries to drag himself upright a little. He’s not entirely successful – it seems that slumping against the wall is the best he can do right now. Kakashi decides not to push himself; he’s already admitted all of his weaknesses to Naruto anyway. The kid probably already thinks he’s completely pathetic anyway, so what’s the point in trying to keep up appearances?

Somewhere, though, Kakashi knows he should be more careful about trusting Naruto. The fog in Kakashi’s skull occasionally makes him forget that it’s Naruto’s parents that were like family to him, not Naruto himself. The kid is being raised by the Hokage. Who knows what kinds of things Sarutobi Hiruzen has taught him – and yet here Kakashi is, readily trusting Naruto like he’s Minato, blindly assuming that he won’t use his weaknesses against him just because his parents were good people.

“Jeez, it’s raining really hard outside,” Naruto’s voice drags him from his thoughts. He crawls into the room, water dripping from his hair. He squeezes some water from his jacket. “So, are you feeling any better, Dog-san-- oh, wow, you look like crap.”

“Thanks,” Kakashi deadpans. Speaking makes his throat feel like it’s tearing on the inside, and he stifles a wince.

“You sound like crap, too,” Naruto observes matter-of-factly. He quickly shrugs out of his backpack. “Don’t worry, though – I’ve got just the thing!”

Kakashi watches as Naruto zips open his backpack and pulls out a thermos flask, which he triumphantly hands to Kakashi. With a raised eyebrow, Kakashi opens the thermos flask and sniffs at its contents. His sickness is messing with his sense of smell, but he vaguely recognizes the scent of ginger tea. The tea doesn’t smell like it’s been poisoned.

Naruto watches him inspect the tea, sheepishly scratching at the back of his head. “I’d originally prepared the hot water so that you could use it for the ramen, but I got distracted and made tea instead,” he admits. “It’s ginger tea, because apparently that’s good for you when you’re sick. I hope it helps with… whatever is going on with your voice.”

“For… the ramen..?” Kakashi echoes, somewhat bewildered. He’s struggling to understand, and he’s not sure whether his fever is the problem or whether Naruto just isn’t making much sense.

“Oh yeah, I hadn’t shown you yet!” Naruto replies, and he promptly turns his backpack upside down.

Five ramen cups bounce onto the ground – well, that explains it – followed by a plastic first-aid kit and a flashlight. Naruto shakes his backpack a bit, and a pale orange blanket flumps onto the ground as well.

Naruto grins at Kakashi. “I figured I’d bring some more stuff to help you out,” he says, “’cause, well, you probably need it more than I do. Like, the first-aid kit. I don’t use it, ever, but you kinda look like you need one. No offense.”

Kakashi just stares at him. His brain is having trouble keeping up with what’s happening. He and Naruto made a deal: they would trade food for information. But then, why-- Why did Naruto bring so much more stuff than just food?

Why is Naruto putting so much effort into helping some random missing-nin that he’s known for two days?

Naruto takes his silence as a cue to explain the contents of his backpack further: “And, I brought you a blanket as well, because… Well, I don’t know. I guess sick people need blankets? Also, it’s getting colder, and freezing to death would suck.” He squats down and holds up the flashlight; “And I brought my flashlight, because yours isn’t very bright – is it broken? The batteries of mine are about half full still, so they should hold up for a while. I wanted to buy new ones, but I’m kinda broke right now. Uh, anyway--”

He trails off, and Kakashi realizes that he should probably say something now. He stares at the collection of stuff that’s arranged on the ground in front of him. He could use each of these items, but--

“What’s the catch?” he asks, looking up at Naruto. “You’re clearly trying to make some sort of trade – what do you want from me?”

Naruto tilts his head at him. “Uhm,” he replies, “I guess I hadn’t really thought about that. You can just borrow it? As long as you give it back, it’s all good.”

“But won’t someone notice that you took these things?” Kakashi asks. Naruto lives with the Hokage – surely the Third would get suspicious if stuff was suddenly missing from his home, right?

There’s something wrong about that assumption, though. If Naruto lived with the Third, then why would he say that he’s broke? It’s something that Kakashi needs to get to the bottom of – but he decides that he’ll figure it out later, when his head no longer throbs with every thought.

Naruto frowns at him. “I didn’t steal any of this, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he replies. “This is all mine. No one’s going to care if I bring you my own stuff.” He shoves the pile of stuff towards Kakashi. “Look, you’re being weird, Dog-san. Just accept that I’m trying to help you.”

Kakashi is understanding none of this. It’s not making any sense. Naruto could’ve easily used Kakashi’s weakness against him – any shinobi worth their salt would have – but instead, he’s trying to help Kakashi.

Is overwhelming empathy genetic? Minato was always relentless in his attempts at helping Kakashi as well.

“I-- I don’t know how to respond to that,” Kakashi says, before his mind has the chance to spiral him into another damn panic attack.

“A “thank you” would be nice,” Naruto replies with a frown.

“Ah-- Yeah. Thank you.” Kakashi is still having a hard time trusting all of this, letting his guard down, but he supposes he should’ve realized that he should at least be polite. When did he forget how to react to genuine kindness? Maybe he never knew in the first place.

Naruto seems satisfied, and he holds out one of the ramen cups at Kakashi. “Are you able to eat again? If so, then you should probably eat some ramen. It’s pretty good, even when it’s dry, I promise!”

It’s really difficult not to compare Naruto to his parents. But, well, Kakashi supposes he should be grateful that that’s the biggest problem he has to deal with right now.

Naruto stays for a while, hanging the new flashlight from the ceiling. He ends up sheepishly asking whether he can have one of the ramen cups that he just gave Dog; he hadn’t eaten dinner yet, and in his excitement that morning, he’d also forgotten to make lunch for himself. Breakfast was his most recent meal, so he’s hungry.

Thankfully, Dog agrees easily, and they both eat a portion of dry ramen. It’s crunchy, but still good. Naruto is pretty sure that it’s impossible to make ramen taste bad, actually, no matter how it’s prepared. It’s just one of those foods that taste good no matter what.

Dog eats slowly; it seems like he doesn’t have the energy to do anything quickly right now, not even eating. After he’s finished his ramen, he sits back, Naruto’s blanket wrapped across his shoulders. He looks tired, Naruto observes. The new flashlight is bright enough to illuminate the dark shadow underneath his eye and the raw-looking red flush on his face.

Naruto gets to his feet. “I’ll leave you alone, so you can rest a bit,” he tells Dog. “You look like you need it.”

Dog raises an eyebrow at him. “No questions today?”

“Nah,” Naruto replies. He’d feel bad asking Dog to use up more energy than necessary. “Just… sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

At that moment, thunder crashes loudly outside, followed by the rattling of rain, which quickly becomes louder. A cold gust of wind blows down into the room; Dog muffles a coughing fit in his sleeve.

“It’s storming even harder than before,” Naruto muses, crawling into the tunnel to peer outside. He can barely see the forest through the opaque curtain of rain. “Uh, hey, Dog-san? Change of plan… Do you mind if I wait out the rain for a bit here? I’ll be quiet, I’ve got some homework I can do.”

“Sure,” Dog replies, closing his eye. His voice is even rougher than before, and he doesn’t seem very intent on talking. Naruto leaves him be and pulls his books out of his backpack.

Naruto has never been very good at making his homework on time – he forgets about it half of the time, and he doesn’t think it’s worth the hassle the other half of the time – but he’s decided that maybe it is worth the hassle, now. Iruka-sensei often makes him stay after class as punishment because his homework isn’t done, and that’s something that Naruto would prefer to avoid from now on. Dog is depending on him, after all.

He tries his best to focus on his homework, Dog resting next to him. Dog is breathing difficultly, and shivering a lot – Naruto feels a rush of guilt about the fact that he was only able to bring one blanket, while it’s clearly not warm enough. Well, there isn’t much that Naruto can do to solve that problem; he only owns one blanket, and it’s currently wrapped around Dog’s shoulders. He feels guilty about it regardless.

Naruto continues his struggle to focus on his homework, despite the fact that it’s painfully boring. He’s wrestled his way through two-and-a-half pages of The History of Konohagakure when he notices that Dog is blinking his eye open, a pained tension in his brow. He narrows his eye, almost like he’s listening for something.

Naruto automatically tries to listen as well, though he doesn’t hear anything. He gives it a few seconds, before starting: “What’s--?”

“Shh,” Dog interrupts him urgently, and Naruto quickly clasps a hand across his mouth. It’s quiet for another few seconds, before Dog’s eye suddenly widens, a startled expression. “Shit,” he hisses, and he reaches out a shaky hand to turn off the flashlight.

In the new darkness, it’s almost impossible to see anything; the only light in the room is the dim gray light that comes from outside, and the occasional flash of lightning. Naruto scoots closer to Dog, somehow feeling like they’ll both be safer that way. He feels like he’s supposed to be afraid, though he’s not certain what he’s supposed to be afraid of.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers as quietly as he can.

“Someone’s nearby,” Dog hisses back. “Shinobi, I think. Five of them.” Something glints near his left hand, and Naruto realizes that he’s holding a kunai. He automatically takes out a kunai of his own.

Thunder crashes outside, and Naruto winces at the loud noise. He keeps trying to listen for something in between the rattling of rain – footsteps, maybe, or people talking – but he can’t hear anything. Dog kind of seems to know what’s happening outside, but Naruto is completely in the dark. It makes his limbs buzz with adrenaline.

Something rustles outside of the tunnel, and Naruto’s heart stutters in his chest. Next to him, he can hear Dog’s breathing hitch. Slowly, soundlessly, Dog gets his feet underneath him in a crouched position. He’s getting ready to fight, Naruto realizes.

“Someone’s coming,” Dog whispers at Naruto. “Get behind me.”

Naruto tightens his hand around his own kunai, uncertain. It feels wrong to expect Dog to protect him, when he’s trembling all over. “But--”

A shadow blocks out the gray light from outside; the yellow light of a flashlight follows, casting harsh shadows into the room. Dog shoves Naruto behind him. Naruto can hear footsteps now, though they’re quiet. Someone is crawling down the tunnel. Naruto holds his breath, his heart thundering in his chest.

The flashlight’s beam slides into the room. A person follows, cautiously.

Naruto feels his eyes widen with startled recognition.

Dog springs into action at the same time that Naruto yelps out: “Iruka-sensei, I can explain--”

Iruka raises his kunai, ready to fight back against Dog – but Dog, who had leapt at Iruka, abruptly seems to change strategy. He would have been fast enough to attack Iruka, but instead he only blocks Iruka’s kunai and stares him right in the face.

Iruka’s voice sounds startled. “Shit,” he gasps, “you’re-- Kakashi of the Sharinga--”

Inexplicably, Iruka snaps his mouth shut after that. His face goes blank, his eyes unfocused, as though he’s looking straight through Dog.

Even more inexplicably, he then lowers his kunai and turns around wordlessly. Naruto watches, his mouth dropped open, as Iruka crawls back out of the tunnel and shuffles the bush back into place. “There’s nothing over here,” he hears Iruka call out, to which someone else replies, “All right!” The silence returns after that.

“What the Hell happened?” Naruto blurts out at Dog. There were a million ways this encounter could’ve ended, but this had not been an option that Naruto had considered. Iruka just… left? In the middle of a fight? This is not the way he taught his students to fight, that’s for sure.

Dog turns around to him, panting heavily. His face is cast in a weird red glow, and it takes a couple of seconds before Naruto realizes that that glow is coming from his left eye – his left eye, which Naruto hadn’t realized that Dog still had. He’d been hiding a whole entire glowing eye underneath that scruffy hair of his?

Naruto is distracted when Dog sinks to his knees and drops his kunai, breathing harshly. With a stuttering groan, he grabs at his left eye. Naruto scrambles towards him, putting a steadying hand on his back. Judging by the way he’s tilting to one side, he’s barely able to sit upright.

“I used genjutsu on your sensei,” Dog grits out, tightly pressing his hand against his left eye. His other eye is squeezed shut with pain. “I made him forget he saw us. We sh-should be safe.”

“How did you--” Naruto starts, struggling to understand. “I didn’t see you make any hand signs or anything.”

“It’s one of the abilities of my eye,” Dog says, his voice breathy. He shakes his head; “I’ll explain later. It uses up a lot of chakra. I might-- I might pass out again--”

He slumps to the side, clumsily resting the side of his face against the wall. Naruto stays quiet and rubs Dog’s back, hoping that that’ll help a bit. Naruto can feel the feverish warmth of his skin through his clothes. His clothes are vaguely damp with sweat.

Dog is trembling uncontrollably, but his breathing evens out eventually. He doesn’t pass out again, not to Naruto’s knowledge at least. In the meantime, Naruto listens for any sign that Iruka – or the shinobi that he’s with – is coming back, but it stays quiet outside. It seems that Dog’s ruse worked.

That was close, though. Really close. Naruto had been really close to being in a lot of trouble, and Dog had been really close to being in even more trouble. They’re both super lucky that Dog is so good at genjutsu.

A quiet cough from Dog distracts him from his thoughts; Naruto watches as he slumps further against the wall, probably trying to find a more comfortable position.

“Are you okay, Dog-san?” Naruto asks, before correcting himself: “Or, well, it’s Kakashi-san, isn’t it?”

Dog – Kakashi – huffs a wry laugh. “That’s right,” he replies.

“Is “Dog” a codename?” Naruto asks. “From when you were still a shinobi? Or is it just, like, your favorite animal or something?”

Kakashi actually laughs this time, although it turns into a coughing fit pretty quickly. “Both, actually,” he replies. He sighs then, closing his eye. “I hadn’t meant for you to find out my name,” he admits. “It’s more information than you should have. It could put you in danger.”

“Well, you could just make me forget it all,” Naruto replies with a shrug. “Like how you made Iruka-sensei forget stuff.”

Kakashi shakes his head. “Later,” he says, “maybe. I don’t have enough chakra for it right now. For now, just make sure you don’t tell anyone, all right?”

“I already promised that I wouldn’t tell anyone about you,” Naruto reminds him earnestly. “I’m not going to break that promise.”

“That’s good,” Kakashi murmurs absently. “Thanks.”

A silence falls after that, during which Kakashi tries to catch his breath. Naruto uses the silence to try and process everything that just happened – it’s a lot.

People are looking for Kakashi, except they’re probably not anymore. Iruka-sensei found out where he’s hiding, except Kakashi made him forget about it, and now Kakashi seems so much sicker than before. And Naruto discovered Kakashi’s name by accident, and it kinda seems like he’s stressing out about it, even though Naruto has never heard of him before.

“Hey, Kakashi-san?” Naruto decides to ask, carefully – he’s not sure whether Kakashi is still awake. When he hums in acknowledgement, Naruto continues: “I don’t think it’s fair that I know your name but you don’t know mine. So, my name’s Naruto. Nice to meet you, I guess.”

Things have spiraled out of Naruto’s control a little – or maybe they were never in his control at all – but he feels like he can at least try to help Kakashi’s stress about Naruto finding out his name.

Kakashi gives him a weak little smile; there’s something sad about the expression. He doesn’t quite seem to know how to react, and Naruto decides that it’s probably for the best to let him rest. If he’s too sick to properly react to someone introducing themselves, then he’s probably in pretty bad shape.

Naruto’s assumption turns out to be correct; Kakashi passes out not much later, and he doesn’t react at all anymore, not even when Naruto wraps the blanket around his shoulders. Naruto stays hidden until he thinks the shinobi must be gone, and he leaves quietly under the cloak of darkness.

Chapter Text

The last time Kushina saw Kakashi, it was midnight, and she was cold.

Minato was already gone, she knew. He was lying next to her, but she could no longer sense his chakra signature. She would join him soon, she was sure of it. The Third had called for medics, but they would never arrive in time, and even then they wouldn’t be able to save her. She was too cold, too numb. As far as she was aware, she’d even already been declared dead. Made sense; if she even still had a heartbeat or a chakra signature, it had to be nearly unnoticeable.

The world had all but fallen away around her, but she was aware of Minato’s still form on the ground next to her, and of the Third, who was standing a bit ahead. She could hear him giving out orders to whomever passed by. The shinobi each reacted with shock, and Kushina couldn’t blame them. She and her husband must be a sight to behold.

All of that existed sort of at the edge of her consciousness, though. The center of her focus was Naruto’s chakra signature, as bright and powerful as the sun. He would grow up strong, that was for certain, and he was in good hands – the Third had promised to take care of him. Kushina did not worry about him. She would be able to pass on peacefully, knowing that her son would be safe.

Despite that, she found herself unable to give in to her tiredness. Maybe she wanted more time around her child, or maybe she was simply too stubborn to die just yet. Maybe there was something that she was still waiting for, though her thoughts were too far away for her to remember what it was--

A new chakra signature appeared at the edge of her consciousness, quickly getting closer. Another shinobi, and she recognized this one: it was Kakashi. His chakra signature was spiking with worry, and Kushina felt a pang of pain at that observation. He normally put so much effort into keeping his composure.

…He wasn’t supposed to be here, was he? He was supposed to be under orders to stay away. She wasn’t surprised that he’d disobeyed. Minato had taught him well, after all.

The Third didn’t seem surprised either, though he did seem disgruntled. “You shouldn’t be here,” Kushina heard him say, but Kakashi didn’t seem to hear him at all.

He spoke right over the Third, a quiet tremor in his voice. “I’m-- I’m too late.” His voice was wavering, like he was about to be sick.

Kushina wished she had the strength left to speak – she wished she could tell him to look away. The poor kid had already seen so much during his short life. He’d only just started learning to get his nightmares and his panic attacks under control… Kushina would hate to be responsible for making them worse again.

“They’re gone,” the Third said, “but they managed to seal the Nine-Tails away. They saved our village. We should be grateful for their sacrifice.”

His tone was reassuring, but Kushina could tell by the spike in Kakashi’s chakra that he didn’t find the words reassuring at all. She could hear the dull thud of a knee hitting the grass, followed by the sound of Kakashi throwing up. No one spoke for a while afterwards, though Kushina could hear that Kakashi was breathing audibly, roughly, in that irregular rhythm that she’d by now learned to recognize as a panic attack.

And-- She’d expected that she’d be able to pass on peacefully, without regrets or worries, but she found herself suddenly worrying a lot about this kid. During the past months, he’d been around her non-stop, to guard her during her pregnancy. He’d been silent at first, and frowny, and he was far too serious about his job. She’d known that the kid had lost pretty much everyone he cared about; Minato had been worrying about him so much. He’d been trying so hard to try and pull Kakashi out of his grief, but nothing he’d tried so far seemed to be working.

Kushina had taken that as a personal challenge. She may not be able to help Kakashi move on from his grief, but she could at least show him that the world was more than death and loss and pain.

And so, she’d spent the last couple of months wrangling him into eating dinner with her and Minato, and dragging him along to go shopping and making him decide which pair of baby socks or whatever was the cutest. She’d made sure to include him in anything that would distract him from that sorrow that he carried around, anything that would show him that even though he’d lost so much, he wasn’t completely alone. It wasn’t like he could object to being dragged around everywhere, anyway – it was his job to guard Kushina, after all.

Slowly, very slowly, he’d opened up a little. He seemed to lose some of that tension, that darkness, that he’d always carried around. Kushina was glad to see it. Somewhere along the way, Kakashi had started feeling like family to her. Sort of like a stubborn, scarily-smart, emotionally-constipated little brother. Minato had already been talking about including him in family stuff once Naruto was born – for all intents and purposes, Kakashi was family to all three of them.

And now, she was about to leave him behind by himself. Would he be okay? Considering that he was currently hyperventilating right next to his sensei’s dead body, she couldn’t say for certain.

“Go home and rest,” the Third was telling Kakashi. “We’ll discuss the matter of your insubordination tomorrow. Try to get some sleep first.” He sounded like he was trying to comfort Kakashi, though his chakra signature showed none of the sympathy that his voice carried. He clearly didn’t have time for this – and Kushina understood, considering that their village had just been ripped apart by a demon fox, but her blood still boiled.

She decided, right there: she would use the last of her energy to try and comfort Kakashi.

It took a monumental amount of strength, but she managed to open her eyes a tiny bit. Through her eyelashes, she could see the blurry, dark forms of the Third, who was still holding a sleeping Naruto, and Kakashi, who was sitting on his knees, mask down, clutching at his chest.

His eye was already focused on her and Minato, so he noticed that she was looking at him, and his head snapped up. He sat there, staring, unmoving, as though the slightest movement would instantly kill her.

She stared back, unsure of what to do. She wished it was Minato who was still alive, instead of her. He’d always been so much better at-- well, everything that involved his students.

She hoped that the look in her eyes was a reassuring one; she couldn’t tell. Her body felt colder than ever before. Her vision was blurring more by the second.

She hoped that he would see the flutter of her eyelids, and that he would understand that it was an apology.

With that, she faded.

The last time Hiruzen saw Kakashi, he did not yet know that it would be the last time.

He had called Kakashi into his office, first thing in the morning. He wanted to get it over with; he did not enjoy having to punish one of his best shinobi for insubordination, especially not at a time like this. As soon as possible, he wanted to give Kakashi a stern talking to and then get him back to work.

Kakashi entered the office fifteen minutes early – it appeared that he wanted to get this over with, too. He briefly made eye contact with Hiruzen by way of greeting as he entered, though he didn’t say anything. His eye was red-rimmed and sunken; he visibly hadn’t slept.

“Good morning, Kakashi,” Hiruzen greeted him, making sure that his voice communicated sympathy and calmth. This conversation would go the most smoothly if Kakashi understood that Hiruzen wasn’t angry with him for disobeying his orders.

Kakashi said nothing, chewing on the inside of his cheek underneath his mask. He was hiding his emotions well, but Hiruzen had years of experience with shinobi who were good at hiding their emotions. The boy was furious, and he was holding himself back from saying something he might regret.

Hiruzen forgave him for his anger. His sensei had just died, and Hiruzen was sitting in his chair. Perhaps he even blamed Hiruzen for not saving him, or perhaps he was angry at himself. Kakashi’s upsetness was to be expected.

What happened next, though, was certainly not to be expected.

Kakashi strode over to Hiruzen’s desk and, in a single decisive movement, took off his forehead protector and placed it on the desk.

“I want to retire,” he said, still not looking Hiruzen in the eyes.

Hiruzen raised his eyebrows and sat back in his chair. Well, then. This was not how he’d wanted his first day back as Hokage to start.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” he told Kakashi, still calmly, “but I can’t allow you to retire.”

Kakashi’s eye snapped over to him. “Why not?”

“You are only fourteen,” Hiruzen began; Kakashi looked away in response. He raised an eyebrow. “Is there something you would like to say about that?”

Kakashi narrowed his eye at him, calculating, before replying: “With all due respect, Lord Third, Konoha’s law states that shinobi are considered adults from the moment they become genin. I have been an adult for nine years. Please don’t use my age as an argument.”

“Very well, then,” Hiruzen said with a nod. “I’ll disregard your age, but that is not the only issue here, Kakashi. You are one of our finest shinobi, and our village is very vulnerable right now. If I let you leave our shinobi force, I would willingly be putting our village in an even more vulnerable position. Other villages could take advantage of that. Even more of our people could die.”

“I’m not one of your finest shinobi,” Kakashi gritted out. “If I were, I would’ve been able to protect--” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. “Let me retire. Please.”

There was an edge to his voice that sounded much like defensiveness, but Hiruzen could tell that that wasn’t it; it was despair.

Hiruzen steepled his fingers together, considering this. Letting one of his best shinobi retire was something he simply could not do, not now, not with Konoha in such disarray and with other villages that might take advantage of the situation.

How could he convince Kakashi to regain his hope?

“I can tell that you’re blaming yourself for Minato and Kushina’s deaths,” he told Kakashi. The boy stilled, his jaw tightening. “If that’s the reason you want to retire, then you should know that you’re not to blame at all. It’s--”

“That’s not the reason.” Kakashi’s hands curled into fists, his nails pressing into his palms. “There’s simply… nothing left for me to protect. And even if there was… The people that I try to protect only end up dead. I’ve proven time and again that I’m awful at protecting people. I may be good at fighting, but I fail when it matters most. In the end, I’m worthless as a shinobi, and I’m begging you to see that.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “Please accept my resignation.”

Hiruzen considered his words – it seemed that last night had left deep wounds in Kakashi’s heart, deeper than Hiruzen had expected. Perhaps his spirit had truly broken. Hiruzen doubted it, though; he had seen Sakumo in his final days, and Kakashi was not acting the same way. There was fire left in him yet, even if it was just a tiny spark. Hatake Kakashi was not entirely lost. Hiruzen expected that he would pull through just fine in the end. He had faith in the boy’s strength.

“I cannot allow you to retire,” Hiruzen repeated, “but I can suggest a compromise. I will relieve you of your ANBU duties until you feel like yourself again, and you can take up patrolling the village instead. It’ll be a calmer job for you; it’ll give you some space to mourn. Also, I’ll forgive you for disobeying my orders yesterday, since it was such a difficult moment for you.” He looked Kakashi in the eye. “And if you need someone to talk to, I’ll be here.”

Kakashi’s shoulders slumped, the defeat clear in his posture. “I understand.” He took the forehead protector again, clenching his fingers around the metal so hard that it must hurt; then, he turned around and left, looking lost in his own head.

The door fell shut behind him, and Hiruzen forced himself not to worry about the boy anymore. He had far more important things to worry about.

The last time Gai saw Kakashi, he saw him entirely by accident. Knowing Kakashi, he would have preferred to go unnoticed, but Gai had always had a knack for noticing him when he least wanted to be noticed.

So, when the rest of the village was too busy trying to deal with the damages of last night, Gai was the only one who saw his rival walk through Konoha’s gates, towards the forest. That, in and of itself, wasn’t strange – but Gai noticed the empty look in his eye, the air of finality that hung around him.

“Kakashi!” he called out to him, running to catch up with him. “Hey, wait up! Where are you going?”

Thankfully, Kakashi paused and turned around. He did not look Gai in the eye. “Mission,” he replied flatly.

“Nonsense,” Gai told him, pointing broadly at Kakashi’s face. “You’re not wearing your forehead protector, or your ANBU mask. You never go on missions without them.”

“Undercover missions are a thing, Gai,” Kakashi said, but the argument was half-hearted. He sighed, but made no attempt at ending the conversation like he’d done so many times before.

The silence that fell was heavy, heavier than any silence that had ever fallen between them. In a way, Gai knew that this conversation was unlike any conversation they’d ever had. In a way, he could feel that Kakashi intended for it to be their last.

“You’re leaving,” Gai asked, “aren’t you?”

Kakashi hesitated, biting into his lip underneath his mask. His eye flickered over to the gates behind Gai, checking if there was someone listening – and then, almost unnoticeably, he nodded.

Gai nodded in response, thoughtfully. He did not need to ask when Kakashi would be back; he already knew what the answer would be. He did not need to ask why he was leaving, either. Gai knew Kakashi well enough to understand.

“Are you planning to die?” he asked, bluntly, because he knew that Kakashi would not answer honestly if Gai phrased his question any other way.

There was more hesitation than Gai had hoped, but eventually, Kakashi shook his head. “No. I want to get out, but not that way.”

Relief bloomed in Gai’s chest. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

Kakashi gave an awkward little smile in return. “Yeah.”

Gai gave it all some thought. He understood Kakashi’s choice to leave, and he respected it – but he couldn’t help but worry regardless. If he left the village, Kakashi would be all alone. Judging by how secretive he was being, he probably wasn’t leaving with the Hokage’s permission, which meant that he would become a missing-nin. Every hidden village would consider him their enemy.

Gai had full faith that Kakashi was strong enough to handle himself, but still…

“Let me come with you.”

“No,” Kakashi replied immediately, and Gai could sense the panic that laced his voice. “No, you should-- You should stay here. I don’t want you to die like everyone else did. It’s safer for you to just… not be near me.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Gai said, trying to look him in the eye.

Kakashi looked away. “You don’t have to understand. Just don’t follow me.”

He clenched his jaws, then, turning to walk away. Gai rushed to block his way, arms wide. “Okay,” he told him. “Okay. I won’t follow you. And I won’t try to stop you, either. You’re trying to do what’s best for you. I can only respect that.”

The look on Kakashi’s face was complicated – Gai knew him well enough to recognize gratefulness underneath that overwhelming sorrow that was wrapped around him like a cloak.

“Just… Promise me you’ll try your best to be safe, okay?” Gai asked. “And if you’re ever in trouble, you can always ask me for help. Always. Even if the law declares us enemies.”

“I’ll try my best,” Kakashi replied softly. “Thanks, Gai.”

“It’s no problem at all.” Gai grinned at him, and then wrapped his arms, which he’d spread out to try and block Kakashi’s way, around Kakashi. “Good luck, rival,” Gai told him. “And, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Kakashi didn’t say anything back, nor did he hug Gai back, but he didn’t reject the embrace either. It was almost unnoticeable, but he was leaning his chin on Gai’s shoulder. Gai recognized that that was as much vulnerability as he was able to show, and he felt honored that Kakashi was willing to let down his guard around him.

He hugged Kakashi tighter before letting him go. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you’re on a mission,” Gai said, giving Kakashi a thumbs-up.

Kakashi gave him a small smile in return. “Thank you.”

He left soon after that, turning his back on Konoha. Gai watched him walk away, watched him until he couldn’t be seen anymore in between the trees. He could not know for certain when he would see Kakashi again. Possibly never.

“I’ll miss you, rival.”

The last night he spent in Konoha, Kakashi could not breathe. He spent the whole night curled up in a corner of his apartment, fighting to get air into his lungs. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in his mind, apart from the overwhelming realization that he could not do this anymore.

The last day he spent in Konoha, he visited the graves of the ones he’d lost and buried his forehead protector in the Hatake family grave. The part of him that was shinobi had died, after all. He would need time to figure out what was still left of him.

The first night he spent away from Konoha, he traveled until he couldn’t travel anymore and then hid in a tiny room in a shady inn. He burned off his ANBU tattoo that night, and felt nothing.

The days after that, the numbness in his mind and his body gradually went away, making room for grief. Kakashi spent a long, long time just wandering, mourning, stuck in his own head. Eventually, he found the strength to wonder what it would take to make him feel less horrible – and from that thought, a plan developed.

Most days after that were surprisingly boring, and occasionally even peaceful. Kakashi decided that he’d seen enough death, that he had enough blood on his hands – he would not become an assassin or a mercenary or anything of the sort, and he would only kill when absolutely necessary. He would try to take care of himself, like he’d promised Gai. Like his loved ones would want for him.

Sometimes, he’d be able to take on civilian jobs for weeks or months at a time, hiding his identity with henge or disguises. Sometimes, shinobi or other missing-nin managed to find out who he was, and then he’d be on the run again. Sometimes, he worked together with other missing-nin to smuggle or steal.

His life wasn’t always easy, of course. The nightmares stayed, and there was the loneliness, and the threat of people finding out who he was and trying to take him out. But it was bearable. It was better than Konoha. It was better than being a shinobi. He much preferred the loneliness of being a wanted man over the loneliness of having nothing left.

One day, he made his way to Konoha to visit his teammates’ graves, with a bad cough that he’d gotten in Rain during a very long smuggling ordeal with abysmal communication – and that day lead to him almost dying in a hole in the ground, and consequently discovering that there was something that he’d forced himself to forget long ago. Someone, actually.

All that time, he’d believed that the wounds in his heart had finally healed – but Namikaze Naruto managed to rip them straight open again. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing, Kakashi still needs to figure out.

It’s uncertain whether he’ll have the chance to figure that out, though. As of right now, his head is filled with fever and his body is numb with chakra exhaustion, and the only thing that’s going on inside his mind is a seemingly endless array of fever dreams.

This night, Kakashi sleeps restlessly in a hole in the ground, his dreams filled with images from the past and from the present, blissfully unaware of the fact that his fever is rising by the hour.

Chapter Text

It has been two days since Naruto last saw Kakashi awake. After their encounter with Iruka, Kakashi passed out – and, to Naruto’s knowledge, he hasn’t woken up since.

Something’s wrong. Naruto isn’t a medic, but even he can tell that sleeping for two days straight probably isn’t good, and that it’s probably even less good that Kakashi seems to be having more and more trouble breathing.

Naruto has decided to camp out in the hole to keep an eye on him – he just wants to make sure that Kakashi isn’t, like, eaten by a wild animal while he’s defenseless like this. Or arrested by Konoha shinobi, though Naruto isn’t sure how much he’d be able to do to keep that from happening.

The nights are quiet, though, apart from the rasping sound of Kakashi’s breathing. Last night was another quiet one; Naruto blinks his eyes open to the song of a blackbird, breaking the silence in the morning. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but it’d been so quiet, and he’d been so tired…

He sits up, rubbing at his eyes. His clothes feel cold and damp; it’s cold underground, and the fact that it only stopped raining last night certainly isn’t helping. He’d originally brought a sleeping bag with him – Hokage-jiji had gifted it to him years ago when he started his first year at the Academy, along with some other things that Naruto would need for field trips – but Kakashi had seemed like he was cold, so Naruto had surrendered his sleeping bag to him.

Naruto rubs his arms, trying to warm up a bit. The chill is unpleasant, but that’s all it is. It’s not like Naruto needs to worry about getting sick, anyway. Idiots don’t catch colds, or that’s what his classmates always say.

A soft cough from Kakashi draws his attention – for a hopeful second, Naruto thinks that he might be waking up, but Kakashi only coughs a few times and keeps sleeping. The coughs make a rattling, wet sound. It’s not a sound that Naruto has heard him make before.

Worried, Naruto scoots over to him and holds out a hand towards his forehead. He doesn’t even need to touch him to feel the warmth that his skin is radiating. It feels like his fever is even higher than it was yesterday.

Naruto sits back, anxiously balling his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Kakashi said that he needed rest, but he’s been resting for the past two days straight and he’s only getting sicker. At this point, Naruto is terrified that Kakashi will just die if he doesn’t get some kind of medical attention or medicine.

He’d borrowed a few books about pneumonia from the library yesterday, so that he could maybe figure out what he’s supposed to do, but the books are filled with kanji that Naruto can’t read, and reading large difficult books feels like such a waste of time when Kakashi is getting sicker by the hour. It’s becoming more and more apparent that Naruto will have to ask someone for help – which is a massive risk that he doesn’t feel like taking, but he fears that he’ll have to.

At any rate, Naruto has to do something. Today.

He leaves for school with that worry weighing down on him, and he spends most of the morning trying to figure out who he can safely ask for advice. Naruto usually asks Iruka-sensei about stuff, but that’s not an option; Iruka is definitely smart enough to know the answers to Naruto’s questions, but he’d also be smart enough to figure out what Naruto is hiding. Also, he still thinks that Naruto is taking care of a dog instead of a person. So, Naruto can’t ask him.

Maybe he can ask one of his classmates? Sakura would certainly be smart enough to know, but she’s also kind of mean sometimes. And a tattletale. Ino would probably know some answers, too, but she’s also mean, and she always shares everything she knows with Sakura, so… nope. Shikamaru is smart, too, but he’s a little bit too smart. Asking him about stuff might lead to him wanting something in return, and Naruto is currently very short on things that he can give in return.

Which leaves… a whole bunch of idiots and assholes, honestly. The rest of Naruto’s classmates either wouldn’t help him or wouldn’t be able to help him. That thought leaves Naruto on the brink of panic for a good half hour before he realizes that there’s someone he’d overlooked.

Hinata. Who is neither an idiot nor an asshole.

Naruto formulates his plan as lunch break approaches. Hinata is really shy and easily startled into clamming up or running away, but fortunately Naruto has learned from his conversations with his also-easily-startled missing-nin friend. As long as he doesn’t make too many big movements or sudden loud noises, tries to be clear about what he means, and maybe asks questions that Hinata can just nod or shake her head to, he thinks he should be fine.

Lunch break rolls around, and Iruka lets his students out into the schoolyard. Naruto had intended to follow Hinata immediately, but he’s slowed down when some of his classmates find it necessary to shout at him that he smells like dirt. By the time Naruto has yelled back that they smell like shit, Hinata has disappeared from view.

He finds her again sitting behind a corner of the building, out of sight from the rest of the class. She’s alone, as she always seems to be.

Naruto approaches her with a grin and a wave of his hand, trying to seem as non-threatening as he can. Hinata’s shoulders tense up regardless, her eyes widening, but she doesn’t seem like she’s about to run away just yet. That’s good.

“Hey, Hinata,” Naruto greets her. “Is it all right if I sit with you for a sec? I need to ask you something.” When she hesitates, he adds: “I’m not trying to play a prank on you. I just… need some advice from someone who’s smarter than me, because it’s important but I can’t figure it out by myself.”

Hinata looks at the ground, and for a moment Naruto is terrified that she’ll ask him to leave, but then she shifts to make room for him behind the corner. “I’ll try to help as well as I can,” she replies in that soft voice of hers, and Naruto is so relieved that he feels a little lightheaded.

He gratefully sits down next to her. “So,” he starts, “this is kind of a secret, kind of a really big secret, so would you please not tell anyone? I mean, I assume you won’t tell anyone because you don’t talk very much anyway, but still.”

She nods. “Sure.”

Naruto gives her a nod back. “So, the thing that I need your help with,” he begins, pausing to try and think. How much should he tell her? He’d promised Kakashi that he wouldn’t tell anyone about him, so… “There’s, uhm, this friend I have. And, he’s really sick. And he can’t go to the hospital, even though he should. He said it’s probably pneu-- pneuno-- pneumonia, and he said he’d need to rest a lot to get better, but it’s not working and I don’t know what to do.”

He looks up at Hinata, and she looks away, her eyebrows nervously drawing together. “Sorry,” she says, and Naruto has to bite his tongue to conceal his anxiety. “We haven’t had a lot of classes about medical things, so I don’t… I don’t know very much about that… It sounds serious, so I don’t want to give you any wrong information…” She twists her hands together in her lap. “But… maybe I could go to the library after school and read up on it?”

“You’d be willing to do that?” Naruto exclaims, instantly forgetting about his strategy of not making sudden loud noises. “Ah-- Wait, you wouldn’t even need to go to the library! I have most of the library books on pneumomia in my backpack! If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll go grab them.”

A quick hop through the classroom window later, Naruto returns with his backpack. Hinata spends the rest of their break pouring over the books, and Naruto tries his best to answer the questions that she asks him about Kakashi’s health without giving away any information that could put anybody in danger.

As it turns out, it’s pretty complicated to figure out how to treat Kakashi’s illness. Hinata explains to Naruto that the hospital would normally run a bunch of tests to figure out what kind of pneumonia Kakashi is sick with – because apparently there’s multiple kinds of pneumonia – but since Naruto doesn’t know medical ninjutsu, they’ll have to make some guesses instead.

Hinata eventually decides that Naruto’s best chance at success is to get Kakashi some antibiotics from the pharmacy – she writes down what types of antibiotics would work – and to get him some medicine to help his fever.

“We don’t know what kind of pneumonia your friend has, but the most common kind is treated with antibiotics,” Hinata tells Naruto, her eyes trained on the book on her lap. “There’s a pretty big chance that that’ll work, and if it doesn’t work, not much harm should be done. And, uhm, even if I’m wrong, bringing down his fever should always help.” She gives him a smile; a nervous one, but a smile nonetheless. “I hope it works. I’m, u-uhm, I’m rooting for you, at least.”

Naruto beams back at her. “Hinata, you’re brilliant,” he tells her, and she hides her face behind her hands. “I owe you big time. Thank you. So much. Seriously.”

He was prepared to thank her a million times more, but at that point, the school bell rings, signalling the end of lunch break. Hinata ducks away with a “You’re welcome”, hiding her blush behind the hood of her vest.

Naruto stays behind to pack the library books into his backpack. He feels a lot less hopeless than this morning. He has a plan to help Kakashi, now – all he’ll have to do now, is execute that plan.

He doesn’t go back to class after lunch break; the quicker he can get the medicine to Kakashi, the better. Plus, he often skips school in the afternoons, anyway. It might even come across as suspicious if he suddenly had a perfect attendance record.

He makes his way to the village’s pharmacy, on the other side of the village. He’s never been inside the pharmacy before; he never gets sick, so he’s never needed to buy medicine before. He’s not certain how expensive it is. If he didn’t have enough money for both, would the antibiotics or the fever meds be more important? Maybe he should’ve asked Hinata about it.

Naruto hesitates in front of the pharmacy’s door, his hands tightening around the straps of his backpack. He’s always nervous about entering stores he’s never been to before. Whenever he enters a place like this, there’s always a fifty percent chance of getting kicked out and an eighty percent chance of getting glared at.

But, he reminds himself, no one has been particularly mean to him today. Maybe this is just a good day for him.

He bounces on his feet a couple of times to bounce away his nervousness, and then he enters the pharmacy.

A bell rings above the door, making the people inside look up; Naruto flinches automatically, but no one immediately starts yelling at him to screw off. A few of the customers narrow their eyes at him, and the guy who’s manning the counter frowns at him, but it seems that they’re tolerating Naruto’s presence for now.

With a relieved smile, Naruto takes out the list of meds that Hinata had written down for him and walks up to the counter. “Hi!” he greets the guy behind the counter. “Uh, I want to buy some medicine-- These ones, please.” He puts the list down on the counter.

The man studies the list, looks Naruto up and down, and takes out two small opaque glass bottles from underneath the counter. Naruto squints to read the labels, scanning to find the price, and he can feel the blood drain from his face.

He can’t afford it. He can’t afford either of the meds.

His fists clench at his sides. For a crazy, desperate moment, he considers grabbing both bottles and running, but he would never make it all the way to Kakashi without getting caught. He’d only land himself in trouble and make everything even worse.

He’ll need to find someone to borrow money from. For the third time today, he’ll need to involve other people and risk someone getting suspicious.

“This sucks,” he hisses, only realizing belatedly that he said it out loud. “Uhm, I’m sorry,” he tells the guy behind the counter. “I can’t pay for this right now. I’ll… come back later, I guess.”

He scrunches up the list in his fist and walks out of the pharmacy. One of the other customers whispers something to her friend, but Naruto can’t even hear it over the rushing of blood in his ears. As soon as he makes it outside, he kicks a streetlight, sends a vicious glare to a passerby who’s staring, and walks in the opposite direction with his hands in his pockets.

Damn it. How is he supposed to fix this? Who can he ask for money? That list of people is painfully short. The Hokage would probably find something to be suspicious about, and the same goes for Iruka-sensei. His classmates don’t trust him with any of their possessions, let alone their money, and he’s already asked far too much of Hinata. Would Kakashi carry money on him? Would it be all right to borrow some of his? But Naruto doesn’t know if he’ll be able to pay Kakashi back before he has to leave…

“Hey, Naruto. Shouldn’t you be in school right now?”

A girl’s voice pulls Naruto from his thoughts – when he looks up, he realizes that he’s standing right in front of Ichiraku Ramen. Huh. Apparently, he’s wandered here so many times when he’s feeling anxious that his subconscious just leads him here automatically.

It takes him a couple of seconds of looking around to realize that it was Ayame who just spoke to him; she’s standing at the side of the restaurant, apparently just returning from making a delivery.

He scratches his head sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess I should be,” he replies. “School just… isn’t the most important thing right now.”

It’s not an unusual thing for him to say; normally, Ayame would probably shrug at him and tell him to keep out of trouble, but there must be something different in his tone today, because she gives him a sympathetic smile. “Care to talk about it?” she asks, and nods her chin towards the entrance of the restaurant. “Go and sit down. Dad! One serving of ramen for Naruto, please!”

“Sure thing,” comes Teuchi’s voice from inside, and Naruto waves his hands around in protest.

“No, I can’t, I’m sorry,” he replies. “I can’t pay for it right now.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ayame replies with a wink, and she disappears through the back door of the restaurant. Naruto ducks into the restaurant, feeling like he might cry out of gratitude. Teuchi greets him with a friendly smile, and Naruto feels even more like he might cry.

It’s quiet inside the restaurant. Lunch rush has ended; right now, Naruto is the only customer inside. He prefers it this way. He picks a stool and sits down.

It smells nice in here; it always does. Naruto’s stomach grumbles in response, and he’s reminded that he didn’t eat breakfast, or lunch. With everything that’s going on, he’d completely forgotten to eat.

Teuchi boils up a portion of ramen, and then he turns to Naruto with an expression that’s a mix of stern and sympathetic. “Any particular reason you’re not in class, Naruto?” he asks.

Naruto swings his legs, thinking. He doesn’t need to think for long, though. There’s no doubt that Teuchi and Ayame can keep a secret – they’ve probably heard more secrets than anyone in the village, and they never run their mouths about it.

“Well,” he starts with a sigh, “there’s someone that I’m trying to help. He’s really sick, and he can’t go to the hospital, so I skipped school this afternoon to buy medicine for him.” He leans his chin on his hand. “It was a bust, though. I’m too broke to buy the meds. So now I have to figure out how to fix that.”

“How much was it?” Teuchi asks. “I could lend you some money again.”

Naruto stays silent. It’s a kind offer, of course – but Naruto has already borrowed so much money from Teuchi over the years, and he’s only rarely been able to pay it back. Sure, Teuchi has never held it against Naruto, he’s far too nice for that, but it still doesn’t feel good to borrow even more money from him that he might not be able to pay back.

Then again, this is Kakashi’s life they’re talking about…

“Which meds do you need?” Ayame asks him as she enters the kitchen; apparently, she’d overheard. “I’ll need to run some errands anyway, so I might as well do them now and swing by the pharmacy while I’m at it.”

Naruto bites his tongue. They’re being too nice to him, and he really can’t ask this of them – but he finds himself holding out the list of meds anyway. Ayame takes it from him, and Teuchi reads along over her shoulder.

“Shouldn’t be too complicated,” she declares, stuffing the list into her pocket. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Naruto thanks her, and his voice comes out a little choked.

He’s only just finished his ramen when Ayame returns, proudly holding up the two bottles of medicine. Naruto hugs her as soon as she comes in, too grateful for words.

He leaves a little while later, his spirits lifted, the bottles in the pockets of his jacket. Teuchi and Ayame wish him good luck, and Naruto waves at them until he can’t see them anymore.

His optimism has returned, at least a little. All he’ll have to do is bring Kakashi the medicine, and then things will work out. It had seemed hopeless there for a moment, but it seems like it’ll be okay after all.

He runs into a bit of trouble as he approaches Konoha’s gates, though: there’s a chuunin patrolling around there. Normally, Naruto would just be able to sneak outside without anyone noticing except the two guards. And the guards aren’t a problem – it’s always the same two guys, and they’ve said themselves that they’re not being paid enough to keep track of his whereabouts – but a chuunin on patrol would probably take note if he saw Naruto leave.

Naruto hides around a nearby corner. He’ll just have to wait it out. He hardly ever runs into patrols, but that’s probably just because he always leaves Konoha when school is over. Naruto’s just early today – by the time the school day has ended, the chuunin will probably have left.

But he waits, and waits, and the chuunin is talking to the guards and he’s taking his sweet time. The three of them spend a ridiculous amount of time complaining about the fact that the Hokage has made them go on more patrols since they found those two jounin, which-- well, Naruto supposes it’s useful information for him to know, but can’t they complain about it a little faster?

He’s just started considering causing a diversion when the chuunin checks his watch and tells the guards that he should get going. Naruto feels as though he could collapse with relief. Good. As soon as the chuunin is gone, he’ll sprint through the gates and all should be well--

“Well, if it isn’t Uzumaki Naruto,” a voice sneers behind him, and Naruto freezes.

A hand grabs the collar of his jacket and yanks him backwards. Naruto almost loses his balance, but he manages to stay upright and turn around.

Four of his classmates – the shitty ones – are standing behind him, smirking down at him. The fifth one is still clinging to Naruto’s jacket, undoubtedly trying to tear the fabric with his fingers. He’s snickering into his ear. “Let me go,” Naruto growls, clenching his fists at his sides. “I don’t have time for this today.”

One of the boys grins wider. “Hey, no need to be rude,” he replies. “We just want to talk to you for a bit. You seemed a special kind of weird today, and then you didn’t show up for class after lunch. We were just wondering what was up with you today.”

“None of your business,” Naruto replies, before he realizes that he’s just making this conversation last longer – the more he talks to them, the more they’ll find to be cruel about. He glares up at them. “I don’t have time for this,” he repeats, slowly. “I’m leaving now. Have a good day.”

But the kid behind him is still holding his jacket, and the kid in front of him grabs his sleeve, and all of a sudden Naruto’s impatience is boiling inside him. Before he’s fully realized what he’s doing, he’s elbowed the boy behind him in the stomach and punched the boy in front of him in the face.

The grasp on his jacket loosens, and the other kid stumbles backwards, holding his nose. Naruto turns and dashes for the gates.

“Get him!” one of the boys roars behind him – and the next moment, something hits the back of his head, hard enough to make his vision go white.

He stumbles, and he can feel his knees scrape against the ground, and then his hands. With a whine, he tries to scramble to his feet again, but he’s too dizzy to get up. Through the ringing in his ears, he can hear the footsteps of his classmates approaching, and he knows what’s coming. He curls in on himself on his side, trying to protect the glass bottles in the pockets of his jacket.

The first kick connects with his back, followed by someone stomping down on his side. Naruto tries to curl himself into a ball as well as he can, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s cowardly, and any good shinobi would be fighting back, but Naruto is dizzy and outnumbered, and he’s not sure whether he’d be able to protect the fragile bottles of medicine in a fight. It’s better to just endure this. He’ll heal, anyway.

The group of boys has surrounded him, now, and the kicks come from every side. The bruises they leave don’t hurt for long, but they hurt nonetheless. In the dizzy darkness behind Naruto’s eyelids, it feels like nothing exists except the unpredictable pattern of blows.

At some point, someone stomps down on the side of his head, and another wave of nauseating dizziness follows. Naruto uses the moment to his advantage; he lets himself go slack.

“Oh,” one of the boys reacts. “He’s passed out. Guess he couldn’t handle it. What a wuss.”

The other boys laugh, the barrage of kicks stopping. “Serves him right,” one of them says, and Naruto recognizes the voice of the kid that he just punched in the face. “Well, we’ve wasted enough time on him. Let’s go to my place and play some card games, yeah?”

A final kick to Naruto’s face follows – he can feel his lip start to bleed, but he forces himself not to react – before the footsteps start leading away from him. Naruto stays motionless for a while longer, just to make sure that his classmates are truly gone, and then he stays motionless some more so that the dizziness has a chance to go away. Ugh, his head really hurts. His own heartbeat feels too loud.

Apparently, he’s lying there for a bit too long, because at some point, he can hear one of the guards nervously clear his throat. “Kotetsu,” he asks the other guard, “is he--”

The other guard gets up, his footsteps approaching Naruto. “Uh, kid?” he asks. “Naruto? Are you good?”

Oh, so now they’re worried. The guards must’ve seen everything, but they only decided to butt in now that it’s already too late. Naruto knows he should be grateful that they decided to worry at all, but right now, he’s only hurting and dizzy and pissed off.

He gets to his feet, wobbling. Baring his teeth, he pushes past the guard that’s approaching him and dashes for the gates. Finally, finally he disappears into the forest.

He’s too dizzy to walk in a straight line, and he has to stop a couple of times along the way to catch his breath and to spit out a loose tooth – thankfully, that one was just a baby tooth. He manages to make it to Kakashi eventually, gratefully sliding down the tunnel.

The hole smells profoundly of sick person, even more so than this morning. Kakashi is right where Naruto left him, still sleeping, still breathing like his lungs are filled with gravel. “I’m back,” Naruto tells him, even though he knows that Kakashi won’t hear him. “I brought you medicine. You’re going to be okay.”

He takes the bottles out of his pockets – Naruto is relieved to see that they’re still whole – and opens them. He shakes two of the pills into the palm of his hand and turns to Kakashi.

It’s only then that he realizes his mistake. The medicine is pills. How in the Hell is he supposed to give pills to Kakashi when he’s unconscious? He hadn’t thought to consider that.

It feels like the world crumbles around him. Unless Kakashi wakes up right now, this medicine is useless. Naruto wasted an entire day. He took so many risks for nothing.

He should really start thinking up a new plan – but his head hurts so much, and he’s so tired.

With hitching breaths, Naruto curls up on the ground and cries.

Chapter Text

In a body that’s burning with fever, Kakashi dreams.

He’s never been the type of person to have peaceful dreams, but his nightmares are always even worse whenever he’s sick. There’s a specific kind of bizarreness that only fever dreams can achieve. Past blurs together with present, reality blurs together with dream, and it all becomes a strange mess in which the worst moments of Kakashi’s life are mixed together with a weirdness that he wouldn’t be able to come up with if he tried.

He dreams about his last day in Konoha, about the discussion he had with the Third, except everything the Third says is garbled and he inexplicably has Pakkun’s face. He dreams about watching himself rip through Rin’s heart, except when he looks up, it’s not Rin anymore; it’s Naruto. He dreams about going about his work day in a civilian village with a giant hole in his stomach, like the holes he’d seen on Minato and Kushina. He dreams about going home and finding his dad waiting for him.

He dreams about waking up to darkness and the smell of dirt and the soft sound of someone crying.

It’s not a dream he’s had before, and it takes a while before he realizes that the darkness that he’s seeing is the inside of his own closed eyes. Groggily, he cracks his right eye open. His eyelid feels heavy, like it hasn’t been open in a while. When he opens his eye, it takes a few seconds before he can actually see, and the darkness sticks around in the corners of his eye afterwards.

He’s lying on his back, staring up at a ceiling of tightly-packed dirt, roots sticking from the ceiling like hands that are reaching for his face. The bright light of a flashlight shines above him, casting warped shadows. Kakashi doesn’t immediately remember where he is, but he does notice that he feels safe. Which is weird. He hadn’t felt safe since--

The thought is lost underneath the sudden feeling of his breath catching in his throat. Kakashi forces himself upright and coughs, something rasping deep in his chest. It takes a while before he feels like he’s able to breathe again; by then, he’s out of breath and uncomfortably warm. His side is throbbing badly, and he can’t remember why, though he knows that it’s something that he should definitely remember.

With the palm of his hand, he wipes his sweaty hair out of his face. His forehead feels hot, and there’s a pounding headache pressing against the backs of his eyes; Kakashi presses his hand against his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. It helps a little bit.

“Holy crap,” someone suddenly exclaims next to him. “Holy crap, you’re awake.”

It startles Kakashi – he hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t alone here. With some effort, he manages to recall that he’d heard someone crying earlier. He’d completely forgotten about that. Shouldn’t his instincts be better than this?

He opens his eye to see a boy staring at him, his mouth dropped open, his eyes blinking rapidly. It’s a familiar face, but Kakashi has a hard time remembering who he is; he can’t focus his vision, and his head feels hazy. The part of his brain that’s still working immediately recognizes that the kid isn’t a threat, though, so that’s probably a good sign.

The kid seems to be waiting for him to respond, but Kakashi has already forgotten what he’s supposed to be responding to. He clears his throat. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he says – his voice is really rough. “What’d you say?”

The kid laughs – the sound is wet and vaguely hysterical. “I said, you’re awake,” he repeats.

Kakashi makes a groggy noise. “Am I?”

“Yeah!” the kid says, turning around to grab something. “That’s good, that’s really good, I was scared that you wouldn’t wake up again-- Here, you need to take these. Right now.”

He hands Kakashi two pills; Kakashi stares at them, moving them around in the palm of his hand. The possibility that he’s not actually dreaming right now has made him a bit more determined to push through the haziness in his head – the part of his brain that’s awake tells him that he should be suspicious about this. He’s just been handed two pills. What do they do? Why does he need them? Will they harm him?

He doesn’t seem to have access to the ability to actually voice those questions, though, so he finds himself just frowning at the kid, confused. “Huh?” is what comes out instead of an coherent question. “I don’t… get it.”

The boy snorts, though it sounds more like a sniffle. “It’s medicine,” he says. “One of the pills will hopefully help with your pneumonia, and the other one will bring down your fever. I know you said that you just needed to sleep it off, but it’s been two days and you were only getting sicker-- I got worried.”

Recognition sparks in Kakashi’s tired brain – he remembers getting sick, and he vaguely remembers overusing his Sharingan and passing out. Has it really been two days? He must be sicker than he realized. “Yeah, medicine is probably a good idea,” he agrees, looking down at the pills in his hand.

The kid watches as Kakashi raises his hand to his face and tries to smell whether the pills will kill him. They don’t smell suspicious. It should be fine.

He raises his other hand to pull down his mask, though he pauses with his hand halfway to his face. “Would you mind looking away?” he asks the kid.

“Huh? Uh, yeah, sure.” He sounds puzzled, but he turns away regardless.

Ignoring the sting of pain in his injured wrist, Kakashi quickly pulls down his mask, dry-swallows the pills, and pulls his mask back up. With a sigh, he lies back down. No matter how much it annoys him to need medicine, he’s glad to know that he’ll probably start feeling better soon. He’s sore all over, and he’s starting to get really frustrated about the fact that he can’t think.

“The meds should kick in in about half an hour,” the kid says quietly. “I hope they’ll help.”

Kakashi makes an agreeing noise – which makes him want to cough again – and closes his eye. “I hope so, too,” he murmurs.

He’s barely been awake for a few minutes, but he can already feel tiredness overtaking him again; three cheers for chakra exhaustion and fever. Despite how groggy and disoriented he is, though, he’s still awake enough to know that he hasn’t thanked the kid yet. He should do that, before he falls asleep again.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and he realizes absently that he still isn’t certain who he’s talking to. In an impressive moment of fever-born stupidity, Kakashi decides to sense the kid’s chakra signature and guess. “Thanks… Kushina-san.”

Which is grotesquely incorrect and Kakashi knows it the moment the name leaves his mouth, but he’s too sleepy to correct himself or to worry about the potential consequences. He’s already dozing off fast.

“Who the Hell is Kushina?” the kid asks with a snort, but Kakashi is already sleeping too deeply to respond.

When Kakashi opens his eye again, his head feels marginally less weird. His headache has receded somewhat, and it no longer feels like reality is happening kilometers away from him, which is a relief. It seems that the meds are working – at least the one that should bring down his fever, anyway.

Naruto is sitting next to him, and-- with some deduction, Kakashi concludes that the kid must’ve been here the entire time. The minutes before he fell asleep again are a bit of a blur in his memory, but Kakashi very distinctly remembers not recognizing Naruto – and calling him Kushina. A jolt of adrenaline follows at the realization that Kakashi just gave away something so personal, but he forces himself calm. Worst-case scenario, he’ll have to admit that he knew Naruto’s mother. If Naruto asks about it, he can keep it vague.

There was something weird about Naruto’s reaction, though… Maybe the fever is messing with Kakashi’s memory, but it almost sounded like Naruto didn’t recognize Kushina’s name. That’d be ridiculous, though. He probably just couldn’t hear Kakashi clearly, and Kakashi wouldn’t blame him; he was barely conscious when he thanked Naruto, and there’s barely anything left of his voice.

Well, anyway. Kakashi is probably overthinking everything. He should just try to clear his mind and appreciate the fact that his head isn’t hurting.

He watches Naruto, idly debating whether he should alert the kid to the fact that he’s awake or to appreciate the silence for a bit. It seems that Naruto hasn’t realized that he’s awake yet; he’s sitting against the wall, his eyes closed. His eyes seem a bit puffy, Kakashi notices, and he remembers suddenly that he’d heard someone crying earlier. He hadn’t been sure whether it was a dream or not, but the redness around Naruto’s eyes answers that question for him.

That’s not all, though, Kakashi realizes as his vision slowly focuses. There’s some blood underneath the kid’s mouth, smeared out like he tried to wipe it away, and there’s blood matted into his hair around his temple. It’s not that unusual for an Academy student to get hurt during sparring or something like that, but combined with the crying, it’s--

“Oh, hey, Kakashi-san, you’re awake,” Naruto says, rubbing at his eyes. “Feeling better? You seemed like you were pretty out of it.”

“I-- Yeah. I was. And, I’m feeling better, thanks.” He presses his hand against his forehead; it still feels a bit too warm, though it’s not nearly as hot as before. His skin isn’t stinging with goosebumps anymore, either. “Seems like the meds are working.”

Naruto beams at him at that, and Kakashi notices that there’s a tooth missing from Naruto’s smile. Once again, it’s not that unusual in and of itself – children lose teeth all the time, especially during Academy sparring – but combined with the crying and the head injury, it’s worrying. Kakashi feels a frown pulling at his brow.

Should he ask about it? He’d been so careful not to get too close to Naruto, because everyone he gets too close to dies – but for some reason, it really aches to think about what would be needed to make this cheerful kid cry. He’s Minato and Kushina’s son; his parents wanted him to be happy, and Naruto deserves nothing less.

If Kakashi did nothing about the fact that Naruto is sad, then he would’ve failed the kid’s parents even more than he already has.

“Kakashi-san?” Naruto asks him, a worried expression on his face. “Is something wrong?”

“Ah-- No. Just wondering.” Kakashi sits up, his back against the wall; for some reason, it feels better to be sitting up than to be lying on the ground during a conversation that might get emotional. He clears his throat, smothers a couple of coughs in his sleeve. This should not be this nerve-wracking. “You seem like you’ve been crying. Everything all right?”

“Huh?” Naruto reacts with a nervous laugh. “I wasn’t crying. I don’t cry. Ever.”

Kakashi sends him a skeptical look, and apparently that’s enough; Naruto looks away.

“Okay, fine, I was crying,” he admits. “I was worried you wouldn’t wake up. That’s why.” He plucks at the knee of his pants; there’s a fraying hole there that wasn’t there before. “It was a pain in the ass to get that medicine, and I was scared that it was all for nothing and also that you were going to die on me.”

It really catches Kakashi off guard to know that Naruto cried because he was worried about him. Apparently, Kakashi’s efforts to keep the kid at arm’s length were entirely futile.

“I’m sorry you had to go through so much trouble for me,” Kakashi replies, while he’d actually like to say “I’m sorry for making you cry”, or actually “I’m sorry, sensei, for making your son cry”.

Naruto shrugs. “Nah. All it took was asking a few people for help, borrowing money for the meds, and getting into a fight with my asshole classmates. I was doing it to help you, so I’m really not complaining. If I had to do it again tomorrow, I would.” He huffs a laugh. “Though I hope I won’t need to. Getting kicked in the head kinda hurt.” He sees Kakashi’s frown and adds quickly: “Still not complaining!”

Kakashi sits back, trying to think. Naruto has given him a lot to process – once again, he’s mentioning the fact that he doesn’t have enough money for something while that really shouldn’t be a problem with the Third taking care of him, and his classmates picking a fight with him is worrying as well. Judging by the missing tooth and the blood on the kid’s head, Kakashi guesses that these aren’t the same kinds of fights that Kakashi had with Gai when he was Naruto’s age. This seems far more serious.

Kakashi bites into his tongue, frustrated. He really wants to get some answers, because he’s increasingly sure that some of his assumptions about Naruto are grossly incorrect – but he can’t ask Naruto about the Third without admitting that he knows who Naruto is, and admitting that would open up a whole other can of worms. So for now, he files the thought away for later and focuses on the stuff that he can ask about without talking about himself.

He nods his chin towards the blood on Naruto’s head. “Has someone taken a look at your head yet?” he asks. “That doesn’t seem like something you should just be walking around with.” There’s only a very small chance that an Academy student would be able to kick Naruto hard enough to actually do significant damage, and the Nine-Tails’ chakra would heal him quickly on top of that, but still. Judging by what Naruto describes, he might be concussed, and Kakashi finds that he kind of hates that thought.

Naruto shrugs. “I don’t think it’s that serious,” he says. “It feels like it’s mostly healed already. Barely hurts anymore.” He reaches up a hand to touch the side of his head, scratching it thoughtfully. His eyes flicker up to the entrance of the tunnel; Kakashi follows his gaze and notices that it’s dark outside. “Maybe I’ll hole up in here again tonight, though, if you don’t mind. I’m not sure I’d be able to find my way back home. It’s dark and I’m still a little dizzy.”

The request surprises Kakashi – enough so that it launches him into a coughing fit. “I suppose it’s fine,” he manages in between coughs. He catches his breath, clears his throat, and gives Naruto a puzzled look. “But… What do you mean, you’ll hole up in here again?”

Naruto jumps a little, apparently startled by the question. “I, uh, I spent the past two nights in here,” he admits, a little sheepishly. “Keeping watch.” At Kakashi’s shocked expression, he adds: “I was worried, okay! I didn’t want you to get eaten by a bear while you were passed out, or something like that.”

The idea of someone keeping watch while he rested takes Kakashi right back to his time during the war, though he manages to push that memory to the back of his mind quickly. This isn’t a mission. Naruto isn’t supposed to be out here at night – he’s probably not supposed to be out here at all – and if someone noticed he was gone and came looking for him, that could really dangerous really fast.

And yet… And yet, no one has come looking for him.

“But hasn’t anyone missed you for the past days?” Kakashi is asking before he can stop himself.

To his alarm, Naruto scoffs. “You’re asking a lot of questions, Kakashi-san.” He looks down at his hands; they’re fidgeting with a hole in his jacket. “No,” he says eventually, “I don’t think anyone noticed that I was gone. I mean, my sensei would notice if I missed school, but I tried to avoid that as much as possible.” He looks up at Kakashi, his gaze surprisingly sharp. “Are you done asking questions now?”

Kakashi’s headache is definitely returning. He rubs a hand against his forehead, trying to figure out what he’s supposed to do. He can tell that Naruto wants him to drop the subject, and that this is going to be a really difficult conversation if he keeps talking now – but there’s something very wrong here, and if Kakashi doesn’t figure out what it is, he’s going to freak out.

“Just… one more thing,” he says cautiously. “Do you remember that I called you “Kushina” earlier? Right before I passed out?”

“What about it?”

Kakashi swallows difficultly. Is he strong enough to handle the answer he fears? “Did you… really not recognize that name?”

Naruto scrunches up his nose, thinking – the fact that he needs to think about it at all is enough of an answer. “I mean, not really… Is it someone that I should know?”

There isn’t the slightest indication in the kid’s chakra signature that he’s lying. Kakashi’s blood is rushing in his ears. “What about the name “Minato”? Does that sound familiar to you at all?”

“You mean the Fourth Hokage?” Naruto asks, and when Kakashi nods mutely, Naruto continues thoughtfully: “I don’t know very much about him… I know that he was pretty badass? And that he sacrificed his life to save Konoha when the Nine-Tails attacked?”

That’s not the answer Kakashi was looking for. He feels like the ground is crumbling underneath him – Hell, he feels a bit like he’s going to throw up.

Naruto doesn’t know his parents’ names.

He doesn’t even know his parents’ names, and with that realization, the fragile image that Kakashi had had of Naruto’s life finally shatters to pieces. It should have shattered a while ago, Kakashi realizes in hindsight.

He’d gotten it all wrong. He’d gotten it so wrong. All that time, he’d assumed that he’d left Naruto to a comfortable life; a life without his parents, sure, but there would at least be someone who cared for him. The Third had promised that the kid was in good hands.

Except, the opposite turns out to be true. There is no one who notices when Naruto is gone for three nights straight. There is no one providing for him, at least not enough. There is apparently not even anyone who helps him when other kids are beating the Hell out of him, which raises some horrifying questions about how the rest of Konoha views Naruto.

But the Third had promised that the kid was in good hands, and for ten years, Kakashi had believed him.

Why had he believed him? Because he was naïve? Or because it was easier? It was certainly easier to believe that Naruto was happy and cared for, and that Kakashi would not need to feel guilty for turning his back on him.

Did he leave Naruto entirely alone?

If he’d stayed, would he have been the only person Naruto had?

Is he… Is he currently the only person Naruto has?

Naruto leans to the side, trying to catch his gaze. “Uhm, Kakashi-san? You have a really scary look on your face right now, did I say something wrong?”

Kakashi forces himself to take a slow breath, and then another. He can’t solve all of Naruto’s problems, not without a lot of preparation, and not in the state he’s in right now. As a matter of fact, it would probably be for the best if he dropped the subject and went to sleep. He just woke up from being unconscious for two days. Working himself up certainly wouldn’t help his recovery.

Kakashi doesn’t give a damn about his recovery, though. Naruto doesn’t know his parents’ names. And Kakashi cannot allow that.

And so, he forces himself to take a final slow breath and focus his tired mind.

“There’s some stuff I need to explain to you, Naruto.”

Chapter Text

“There’s some stuff I need to explain to you, Naruto.”

After that, a silence falls. Kakashi turns away rather abruptly, his hand curling into a fist a couple of times. He seems oddly nervous, Naruto notes – Kakashi had seemed pretty determined just now, but now it looks like he’s hesitating. The scary look on his face, the spark of anger in his eye, has faded into uncertainty. Maybe he’s having trouble finding the right words. Naruto can sympathize with that; he decides to give Kakashi some time to figure it out.

Unfortunately, Naruto’s patience can only last so long. Before he knows it, he’s blurting out: “What kind of stuff do you need to explain to me?”

Kakashi gives an absent “hm” in response, his fist tightening so much that his knuckles go white. His shoulders tense up; he looks like he’s bracing himself for something. “I, uhm-- I wanted to-- There’s something you should know--” He sighs, the tension dropping from his shoulders again. “Actually, I think I should probably eat something first. And drink some water.”

Naruto wants to be mad at him for stalling, but Kakashi did spend the past two days knocked out, so it’s actually probably good if he gets something into his stomach. Naruto may be curious, but not curious enough to let Kakashi starve to death.

He turns around to grab his thermos flask and holds it out to Kakashi. “I don’t have any water, but there’s tea,” he offers. “Don’t know if it’s still warm, though.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Kakashi replies, seeming grateful that Naruto has accepted his change of topic. He takes the thermos flask, cracks it open and takes a long sip – Naruto automatically looks away when he pulls down his mask, and busies himself with finding a ramen cup and rolling it in Kakashi’s direction.

They both eat a cup’s worth of dry ramen; Kakashi finishes his portion much more quickly than Naruto does, both because he’s a fast eater and because Naruto has to figure out how to chew around a missing tooth. Kakashi drinks the last of the tea and then sits back with a sigh.

“So…” Naruto says, mouth filled with ramen. “Are you gonna tell me what you’re being so mysterious about, or what?”

“Yeah,” Kakashi replies. The tension in his shoulders has returned. “It’s… about those names that I asked you about.”

When he hesitates again, Naruto says: “You seemed pretty freaked out about that, yeah.”

“Yeah,” Kakashi says again. “So, uh-- Well-- Those names are--”

And he’s stammering again, and Naruto’s patience is starting to run sort of thin, and he exclaims: “Would you spit it out already?”

“It’s your parents’ names,” Kakashi blurts out, and the intensity of the words immediately launches him into a violent coughing fit.

Naruto frowns at him. “What?”

Kakashi muffles the last few coughs behind his teeth. His hand absently rubs his chest, like he’s trying to get rid of tension there. “Minato and Kushina,” he says, slowly. “Those are your parents’ names. They would’ve wanted you to know that.”

Naruto chews thoughtfully, the ramen crunching in his mouth. “Very funny, Kakashi-san,” he eventually decides. “You had me going for a second there, but you’ll have to think up something better to fool me.”

He’s only reacting so calmly because he’s heard this before; his classmates used to tell him all sorts of stuff about his parents, when he was still young and gullible enough to believe them. He’s heard it all before: “Hey Naruto, did you know your dad was the Hokage? Hahaha – holy shit, he’s crying, he actually believed that!”

He used to get really mad about it – once, his classmates kept insisting that his dad was a loser and his mom was a weirdo, and Naruto ended up biting the worst bully so hard it left a scar – but he realized at some point that his anger didn’t matter. His classmates don’t know any more about his parents than Naruto does; all they know is that he doesn’t know, and they like to be jerks about that.

For a brief, awful moment, he’s terrified that Kakashi is the same kind of jerk as everyone else. But then he looks up and sees how serious Kakashi is, and his fear subsides a little bit.

“I wasn’t lying,” Kakashi says softly, belatedly.

“But…” Naruto begins, grappling for questions to ask, because he refuses to be naïve about this. “How do you know that? No one else seems to know.”

Kakashi is quiet for a few seconds, the way he always is when he’s trying to decide what information to trust Naruto with. “I used to be a Konoha shinobi,” he replies eventually, “long ago. I worked with your parents.” After another long pause and a long, long sigh, he adds: “They were… important to me.”

There’s so much emotion hidden underneath the carefully-steady surface of Kakashi’s voice. Naruto can feel it, the words hanging heavy in the air. It’s almost enough to distract him from the content of the words – almost, but not entirely.

Kakashi knew Naruto’s parents. He knows their names. He used to work with them.

It feels like someone has plucked Naruto’s brain out of his skull and replaced it with a swarm of bees.

Eyes almost impossibly wide, he stares at Kakashi. “How many questions do I get to ask today?” he asks, his voice sounding relatively calm compared to the overwhelming buzzing inside his head.

Kakashi huffs a laugh, the sound followed by a cough. He’s looking away, but not in a dishonest way; instead, it looks like he’s trying to calm himself down, his breaths deep and exaggerated.

“As many as you need,” he replies, still not looking Naruto in the eye. “You went through a lot of trouble to get me medicine, after all. Letting you ask your questions is the least I can do.” He clears his throat, visibly trying to shake off that layer of anxiety that hangs over him. “So, fire away, kid. What do you want to know?”

Naruto pokes his tongue against the gap between his teeth, trying to put the buzzing questions in his head into words. “So…” he starts, slowly. “You said that my dad’s name was Minato, right? Was he the Fourth Hokage? Or was he some other guy named Minato?”

“He was the Fourth Hokage,” Kakashi affirms, though by the time he finishes his sentence, Naruto is already talking over him.

“My dad was the Fourth Hokage?” he shouts. They both wince at the sudden volume – in his excitement, Naruto forgot about his own headache – and Naruto continues slightly less loudly: “You’re definitely messing with me this time.”

“I’m not.” At Naruto’s grin, Kakashi continues: “Your dad was the Fourth Hokage, and your mom was the Nine-Tails’ Jinchuuriki.”

“What’s that?” Naruto asks. “I mean, I know what the Nine-Tails is, but what does that other word mean? Jinchu-- Jinchuiri—Whatever it was that you said.”

That spark of anger from before has returned to Kakashi’s gaze. “Jinchuuriki,” he says. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t know. It’s probably an S-rank secret.” He chews on the inside of his cheek underneath his mask. “I’ll explain it to you someday. It’s a whole other conversation. For now, you should know that it means your mom was a very strong jounin, and that she had to overcome more obstacles than most to get there. Especially when she was young.”

“Oh,” Naruto says. It’s weird to figure out how to feel about the fact that one of his parents had a difficult childhood, just like him. He’d never considered that he might be like his parents. That they might’ve struggled, just like he’s doing. “Was she bullied, too?” he asks, almost automatically.

Something complicated enters Kakashi’s expression, and Naruto realizes that the question might’ve come completely out of the blue for him. “Yeah,” he replies. “She told me about it, once. When she was still in the Academy, her classmates were mean to her because she was different. She didn’t let it get to her, though.”

Naruto hums thoughtfully, and he finds that the sound bumps into a lump in his throat and comes out crackly. He’s not sure what he’s being emotional for. The fact that his mom was bullied too shouldn’t matter, it won’t help him – but it feels important anyway. It suddenly feels like he’s a little less alone.

He clears his throat. “What about my dad? Was he…” …like me, is how Naruto had planned to finish that sentence, but that would be impossible for Kakashi to answer, so he rephrases: “Did he have a difficult life, too?” Naruto remembers bits and pieces from history class, but the lessons were always about the stuff that the Fourth had accomplished during the Third War and as Hokage. The history books always pretended that he just sprang into existence as a cool and successful adult.

Kakashi’s shoulders tense up; he raises a hand to rub at his neck in an attempt at playing it off as thoughtfulness. “I’m not sure what his life was like before I met him,” he says. “Kushina-san said that he was a good student – a “goody two shoes”, I think were her words – so I don’t think he struggled at the Academy all that much.” He looks away. “But, a lot happened during the war… He was put in charge of a genin team, and, well, things went wrong. Not his fault. It can’t have been easy for him, but he never complained.”

“Oh,” Naruto murmurs. “I didn’t know he was a jounin-sensei.”

Kakashi huffs a wry laugh. “That figures. I can’t imagine that Konoha would write about that period of his life in the history books. They’d have to talk about me, and Konoha doesn’t like talking about me.”

“What would they need to talk about you for--” Naruto starts, before turning to Kakashi with horrified eyes. “Did you kill his genin team?”

Kakashi gives him an equally horrified look back. “What? No, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant that I was-- I was one of his students. Konoha probably doesn’t want anyone to know that their legendary Fourth Hokage raised a missing-nin. It wouldn’t be very good for his reputation, even if it’s not his fault that I turned out this way.” The startled look on his face fades into something that’s less easy to read; more distant, more guarded. “But, your assumption wasn’t entirely wrong, actually.”

Naruto frowns at him. Kakashi is being vague, and Naruto doesn’t like the fact that he doesn’t know why. “Did you or did you not kill his genin team?”

“It’s…” Kakashi’s left hand plucks at the fabric of his mask underneath his chin, as if it’s too tight around his throat. “Minato-sensei’s genin team-- They are dead. Because of me. Not because I wanted them dead, but I-- I was responsible--” His words are oddly hurried, his sentences punctuated with quick gasps for breath. “I was responsible for keeping them alive, and I failed. His other two students-- My teammates-- They’re dead because of me. If that answers your question.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, chest heaving like he’s just run fifty laps around the village. He balls his good hand into a tight fist, a frustrated noise escaping from his throat.

Naruto studies him worriedly. “You okay?” he asks. “Can you breathe?” Kakashi had already had trouble breathing before; him suddenly getting even sicker is the last thing he needs.

Kakashi gives him a small nod, pushing his back against the wall behind him; it seems like he’s trying to ground himself. “I’m all right,” he says, after a while. “Physically, I mean. I’m just-- not used to talking about this. At all.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth, the sound whistling a little. “I just need a moment to catch my breath.”

Naruto nods at him, recognizing that this isn’t the moment to ask more questions. It comes so naturally to him to be considerate of Kakashi’s feelings, even though a part of him is impatient, impatient, impatient – Kakashi is the only person Naruto has ever met who could tell him stuff about his parents, and a part of Naruto wants to fire all the questions in the world at him, no matter how hard it is for Kakashi to talk about.

But on the other hand, Kakashi is a friend, and he’s also really sick, and he also seems a bit like he’s trying not to cry. Naruto does not want to make Kakashi cry.

Naruto sits a little awkwardly as Kakashi tries to get his breathing under control, his chest heaving and occasionally stuttering with coughs. He seems really upset, and it’s scary. Kakashi seems to always put a lot of effort into hiding any emotion underneath layers of sarcasm and difficult-to-read expressions, but now, all of those layers have been yanked away.

“I’m sorry I asked you about your teammates,” Naruto says quietly. “I’m sorry I assumed you killed them. I bet that kinda sucked to hear.”

Kakashi shakes his head, his eyes still closed. “I don’t blame you. I am a missing-nin, after all, though I wasn’t one at the time. There’s definitely missing-nin out there who would jump at the chance to murder the Yellow Flash’s twelve-year-old students. It’s a logical assumption to make.”

“You were only twelve?”

“Yeah.”

Only two years older than Naruto is. “That… That must’ve really sucked.”

“Yeah. You can say that.”

There’s a bit of quiet unsteadiness in Kakashi’s voice, and he’s still not breathing right, and wow, Naruto hadn’t considered that he could’ve had such a difficult past – and Naruto decides that he can’t just stand by awkwardly like this. He needs to do something to help.

He scoots closer to Kakashi, making sure that his movements are predictable and audible. Kakashi cracks his eye open and watches him idly, still out of breath. Naruto looks up at him for approval, before quietly settling against Kakashi’s left side. He remembers quite abruptly that Kakashi got stabbed in one of his sides – but Kakashi doesn’t seem to be in pain, so it’s probably his other side that’s injured.

Naruto had meant to hug Kakashi, though he realizes now that Kakashi probably wouldn’t appreciate that, hurt as he is. Instead, Naruto just squishes himself against Kakashi’s side and hopes that it has the same effect as a hug.

Kakashi doesn’t really react to it; just closes his eye again, which Naruto takes as a sign that Kakashi doesn’t mind his presence. Naruto closes his eyes as well. He can feel Kakashi breathe, quickly and shallowly, and he can hear the thundering sound of his heartbeat. Naruto finds himself instinctively breathing really slowly, hoping that that’ll help Kakashi slow down his breathing as well.

Naruto isn’t sure whether he’s of any help at all, but eventually, Kakashi manages to slow down his breathing somewhat. Naruto feels him sigh, and then, a warm hand ruffles his hair.

“Feeling a bit better, now,” Kakashi says quietly. “Sorry about that. It just… happens sometimes.” He slumps, leaning the back of his head against the wall. “You can ask me more questions about your parents in a little bit, okay? I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“It’s fine,” Naruto says. He draws his knees up to his chest and stares at nothing in particular. “I wouldn’t know what to ask, anyway. There’s so much I want to know that I don’t even know what to ask.” He leans his chin onto his knees. “And, also, I’m tired.”

It feels like some sort of betrayal, to not want to know more about his parents right now at this very moment – but even with the few things that he’s learned about them today, Naruto already feels like his head is overflowing. He needs time to process all of this. His brain is full, and if he tried to jam even more information into it right now, he’d forget some of it and that’d be awful.

“I suppose I get that,” Kakashi replies. He rests his hand on Naruto’s head, and Naruto leans into the touch. “We can talk about it later, if you’d prefer that.”

Naruto nods. “Yeah. Please.”

They sit like that for a while, not saying anything as Naruto tries to wrap his head around everything. All in all, he’s feeling happier than he could put into words, but there’s something nagging at him despite his gratefulness.

“Hey, Kakashi-san?” he asks.

“Yeah?”

“Say… You know a lot about my parents.” Naruto’s voice sounds small to his own ears. “All this time, I assumed they were just… mysterious, I guess. Because nobody ever seemed to know anything about them. Hokage-jiji said that they were shinobi, and that they died right after I was born, and I assumed that that was all there was to know.” His eyes sting furiously. He blinks a couple of times; it doesn’t help. “Why didn’t anyone ever tell me anything?”

“I don’t know.” Kakashi’s voice is hoarse and somber. “My guess is that the Third didn’t want anyone to know you’re the Fourth’s son because Konoha’s enemies might think that you’re important. It’s never a good thing if your enemies think you’re important. They might try to kill you, or kidnap you for ransom.” He sighs. “But, still… The fact that no one ever told you… It’s cruel. It’s a cruel thing to do to a kid.”

Naruto nods, a sob catching in his throat. “Yeah. It really is.” He sniffles. “So, uhm. Thank you. So much.”

Kakashi huffs a laugh. After a long moment of hesitation, he loops his good arm around Naruto and pulls him tighter against his side. Naruto hugs his knees against his chest and buries his face against Kakashi’s side, and cries.

It’s been a long and turbulent and difficult day, and it’s also been a day filled with relief and gratefulness and excitement. Naruto isn’t sure whether he cries out of gratitude or bitterness or pure exhaustion. He doesn’t really have any words yet for the overwhelming emotion that fills the spaces around his heart.

In the end, he falls asleep like that, tucked underneath Kakashi’s arm – and even though he’s still really upset, even though the remnants of his concussion still haunt his brain, even though they’re in the middle of the woods at night and shinobi or worse could find them at any moment--

The last thought he has before he falls asleep, is that he’s never felt this safe before.

Chapter Text

A few weeks after he’d left Konoha, Kakashi had a dream. He dreamt there was a circle drawn around him on the ground, a meter or so in diameter, a jagged black line like a seal he couldn’t read.

No other people could ever cross that line. They always had to stay back. Kakashi could talk to them, make friendly conversation – but they could never come close. They couldn’t touch him and he couldn’t touch them.

It was his first pleasant dream after weeks of nightmares. No one died. No one bled.

Even at fourteen, though, Kakashi was well-trained at not taking his dreams too seriously. He’d regularly been having nightmares for seven years, and there was no sign of them stopping anytime soon. If he had the habit of thinking too much about his dreams, he would’ve gone mad a long time ago.

But this dream stuck in his mind. His subconscious was onto something here. So much of his grief could’ve been avoided if he’d just kept his distance from the people he valued. If he hadn’t been so close to Obito, he wouldn’t have gotten fatally injured while trying to save his life. If he hadn’t been so close to Rin, she wouldn’t have died by his hand. If Minato had given less of a damn about him, he might not have given him the order to retreat when the Nine-Tails attacked, and Kakashi might’ve been able to save him and Kushina.

Maybe, if he just kept his distance from everyone around him… Maybe then, no one else would die.

It was a comforting thought. So he clung to it. There was an imaginary line around his heart, an absolute limit to how much he could care about someone, to how close he’d allow someone to get.

As long as he never crossed that line, everyone would live.

Tonight, for the first time in ten years, he’d crossed that line.

In the flashlight-lit hole in the ground, Kakashi sits with his knees drawn up to his chest, staring at nothing. Every muscle in his body is rigid, clenched tight in an attempt to keep himself from shaking. Naruto is curled up against his side, asleep, and the movement would surely wake him. Kakashi would like to let the kid sleep, at least until he can pull himself together. At least until he can control the crushing terror that has filled his chest.

He screwed up beyond a shadow of a doubt. There is no way this could ever turn out okay again.

He should leave. He should leave right now. He let Naruto get too close, but maybe things will still turn out all right if he just never speaks to him again. Maybe then, Naruto will survive--

He leans his forehead onto his knee, exhaling a shuddering breath. He can’t leave. That’s the whole problem, isn’t it? He can’t. If he followed his panicked instincts and left right now, Naruto would have to live with the knowledge that his village kept his own parents a secret from him, and he would have to live with that all by himself. And erasing his memories of Kakashi with genjutsu is completely off the table at this point – that would remove Naruto’s knowledge about his parents as well, and that’s just not right.

He shouldn’t have told Naruto about his parents. He shouldn’t have asked Naruto about his life. At this point, neither of their lives can return to the way they were before. Kakashi doubts he can function normally again, knowing that he’s left Minato and Kushina’s ten-year-old son to a life of loneliness and poverty.

He has started caring too much about the kid, and now there is no going back. Either he leaves and makes Naruto’s life even more miserable than it already is, or he stays and risks getting the kid killed.

There is no right answer. And, for Kakashi’s already-overwhelmed mind, that realization is entirely too much to handle.

He can feel himself start to tremble; he tries to stop it, but it’s too late. Naruto shifts against his side with a groggy “hmm?” and sits up to rub at his face.

Kakashi looks away from him. “Sorry.”

“What for?” Naruto asks – when Kakashi doesn’t immediately answer, he repeats: “Hey, what’re you sorry for?”

“Don’t know. Everything, I guess.”

Naruto’s brow furrows at that, a worried expression. “Okay, you’re being extremely vague,” he says. “You’re not, like, delirias again, are you?”

“Delirious,” Kakashi corrects automatically. “And, no, I don’t think so. Just…” He struggles to put his soul-deep panic into words that a ten-year-old could understand. He considers saying that there’s nothing wrong, but Naruto wouldn’t accept that as an answer anyway. “Just thinking about what to do next.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking about that,” Naruto says thoughtfully. “Clearly it’s not good for you. You’re shaking like an earthquake.”

Kakashi huffs a cough-laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t,” he agrees; ah, wouldn’t it be so much easier to just do things without either overthinking them first or regretting them afterwards, or both? “But I’m trying to do the right thing, so I have to do some thinking about it.”

Naruto considers that for a moment. “You said you were sorry,” he then says, “about everything, whatever that means. Does that mean that you don’t think you’re doing the right thing?”

“No,” Kakashi replies, and he finds that he means it. Telling Naruto about his parents was the right thing to do. He can decide that without regret. “No, I think I’m doing the right thing. I’m just not sure where to go from here.”

“I can try to help,” Naruto offers, rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes. “I’m not very good at thinking up strategies, but I can try.”

Kakashi shakes his head. “It’s not your responsibility. You’ve done enough for me today.”

“Aw!” Naruto crosses his arms. “No fair! I’m sure I can help.”

“It’s something I have to figure out for myself. You can’t help.”

“Kakashi-san,” Naruto whines, but he gives up when Kakashi doesn’t reply.

The kid sits back down, settling back where he’d been sleeping, a weight against Kakashi’s side. He plucks at the orange blanket that’s laid across the both of them. It covers Naruto almost completely, small as he is. Kakashi’s half only covers his legs. Naruto’s half has a hole in the hem.

“You’re thinking about leaving,” Naruto says eventually, quietly, “aren’t you?”

The fact that the kid saw through him so easily catches Kakashi off guard – so much so that he forgets to lie. “Yeah. I am.”

“Why were you shaking?”

“Because I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“You said that already, and I still have no idea what you mean.”

“I’m trying to…” Kakashi automatically cuts himself off, startled about his own reflex to tell the truth – but, well. Keeping Naruto at arm’s length isn’t any use anymore, anyway. “I’m trying to think of a plan that ends with neither of us dead or miserable. So far, I’ve got nothing.”

Naruto chews on the inside of his cheek, thinking. “Well, it’s nice to know that you don’t want me dead, or sad,” he says. “Likewise, I guess.”

Kakashi laughs, the sound wet in his throat. “Thanks.” He sighs, sitting up and rubbing his hand across his chest. He’s not sure whether the discomfort there is physical or emotional. Both, probably. “If you think of a good plan, let me know – but don’t feel bad if you can’t think of anything. I don’t think a perfect plan exists.”

It’s quiet, for a long time, as they both think. They end up staring at the flashlight that’s hanging from the ceiling, at the gentle way it rocks back and forth in the draught. Kakashi thinks he might fall asleep like this; maybe he should, maybe he should save the thinking for tomorrow, when he’s less exhausted--

“What if you took me with you?” Naruto’s voice breaks the silence.

Kakashi almost breaks a rib with the coughing fit that follows.

Naruto makes a startled little sound and sits up on his knees, slapping Kakashi’s back. “Okay, so I’m guessing that was a bad idea-- I’m sorry!”

“That,” Kakashi manages in between coughs, “would be exactly-- the kind of scenario that’d get you killed-- Ah, ow.” He presses his hand against his side, trying to ease the throbbing of the stab wound there.

Once he’s able to breathe again, Naruto gives a little laugh. “Sorry for suggesting such a stupid idea,” he says, sheepishly scratching at the back of his head. “Forget I said that. That was dumb.”

“Don’t apologize. I get where you’re coming from.” Hell, of course he does. He gets what it’s like to want to leave, to accept the danger of being an outlaw for the chance of finding a better life. Considering what he’s learned today, Kakashi really can’t blame Naruto for wanting to leave Konoha and never come back. “But… I don’t think you understand how dangerous it would be. You’re just a kid.” And the Nine-Tails’ jinchuuriki, too, though it’s entirely too late at night to get into that explanation now. “The world would eat you raw.”

“But, like…” Naruto says tentatively. “You’re supposed to be pretty strong, right? You said you were.”

“I can’t protect you, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Emotion rises in Kakashi’s throat; he swallows it down. “I’m awful at protecting people. I’d get you killed.”

“No, I mean…” Naruto shakes his head. “What if you taught me to be just as strong as you? What if I just don’t die?”

There’s so much hope in the kid’s voice. That same hope insists on rearing its head inside Kakashi as well, so strong he can taste it, bitter on his tongue like tears.

What if Naruto really did survive? What if Kakashi had a chance to get him out of that village that is so unfair to him? What if – maybe, just maybe – the kid could be happy, like his parents intended for him?

At Kakashi’s lack of response, Naruto quickly adds: “Hypothetically, of course! I’m not saying you should take me with you. I get it if you don’t want to.”

Kakashi does not think that it’s the right choice, or the safest one. He also does not think that he’s in the right frame of mind to make a decision like that right here and now – he’s just been unconscious for two days, and he’s sore and feverish and emotionally exhausted.

But he hears the raw hope in Naruto’s voice, and he knows one thing: he can’t make a choice that will make Naruto miserable.

So he closes his eye, so that he doesn’t have to see Naruto’s reaction, and replies: “I’ll consider it.”

Naruto reacts with a surprised gasp. “Really?” he asks, so quietly, and Kakashi is glad he’s not looking because he’s sure that the expression on Naruto’s face would’ve been too much for his frayed nerves.

“I’m not saying I’ll take you with me,” Kakashi says quickly. “Don’t get your hopes up yet. I need to think it over, and at the moment, I can barely think at all.” He muffles a cough behind his teeth. “But, even if I decide that I can’t take you with me, I can still teach you some things.” That would be good, he thinks. Everything he could teach Naruto would improve his chances of surviving.

“Cool!” Naruto exclaims. “When do we start? Right now? I’m not tired at all, you can try to teach me some stuff if you want. Know any cool jutsu?”

“I know a lot of cool jutsu,” Kakashi deadpans, “but they would fry your young chakra pathways into oblivion. Also, please consider that I won’t be able to show you any complicated hand signs anytime soon.” He holds up his splinted wrist, and Naruto makes a disappointed noise. “But I can teach you one thing right now, I guess.”

“What’s that?”

Kakashi cracks his eye open to give Naruto an exasperated look. “I can teach you not to go with strangers until you’ve done a background check on them,” he says drily. “You’re far too trusting, kid.”

Naruto sticks his tongue out at him. “I’m not!”

“Are too.”

“I’m a great judge of character,” Naruto counters. “If I weren’t, you’d be dead.”

Touché. “Just… keep in mind that I could’ve been some sort of assassin, or a mercenary, or someone looking to kidnap you – and you’re just offering to come with me.”

“This village sucks so bad that I would’ve come with you even if you were a kidnapper,” Naruto mutters, though he changes the subject quickly. “So, but, if you’re not the type of missing-nin who assassinates or kidnaps people… Then, what do you do?”

Kakashi shrugs, closing his eye again. “Pretty much anything I can get paid for,” he replies, “as long as it doesn’t involve death.”

“Like stealing or something?”

“Sometimes, or smuggling, or acquiring information for people. The illegal jobs are few and far between, though. I spend most of my time in civilian villages, in disguise, helping out with whatever job I can get.” He snorts. “If you want to come with me, be prepared for lots of henge, living in inns and doing a lot of farming.”

“Sounds boring,” Naruto comments, settling himself against Kakashi’s side again. “And pretty nice.”

“It is. Both boring and nice. The Academy used to make it sound like missing-nin were always on the run, but they failed to consider that missing-nin are only on the run when shinobi are after them. If you keep your head down, you can go weeks or months without even seeing a shinobi, let alone them finding out that you’re a missing-nin.”

“I’m not really good at keeping my head down,” Naruto says. “But I can try.” He yawns loudly, pulling the blanket over himself. “So… Since you can do pretty much whatever, what’re you planning to do when you leave?”

“Don’t know.” He hadn’t really thought about it; his own survival has been so uncertain so far that he hadn’t dared think ahead more than ten minutes. “I guess… I came here to visit my friends, so I’ll do that first. And after that, I think I’ll have to take it easy for some time. Get my strength back.” He smiles a bit to himself. “There’s a city in the Land of Rivers where I worked as a librarian for a little while – maybe I can return there, with a different disguise. They were always understaffed, so maybe that position is still open.” Maybe there’d even be room for an assistant. The thought scares the Hell out of Kakashi. “What do you think, kid?”

Naruto doesn’t reply; he’s dozed off, heavily leaning against Kakashi’s side. “Too boring, huh?” Kakashi comments softly.

Well, maybe it’s for the best that this conversation has ended. The exhaustion is making him sentimental, and he really shouldn’t be sentimental when it comes to decisions that could lead to a child’s death. He fears that if he’d kept talking a little longer, he might’ve promised Naruto that he’d take him with him, and that wouldn’t be good. Everyone around him dies. He needs to remember that.

His brain keeps labeling the idea of Naruto coming with him as peaceful instead of bound to end in bloody tragedy, though, so Kakashi decides with a sigh that he should stop thinking for today.

Carefully, he pulls his half of the blanket over himself, reaches up and quietly turns off the flashlight.

Chapter Text

“I don’t want to go to school today.”

Naruto has barely been awake for five minutes, and he’s already freaking out.

Kakashi blinks at him sluggishly, still half asleep. Last night’s dose of the fever meds has worn off; they’re waiting for the next dose to kick in. The fever has made him a little bit groggy. “What?”

“I don’t want to go to school today,” Naruto repeats, scratching at the new scar on the side of his head, agitated. “School sucks. Actually, I don’t wanna-- I don’t wanna go back to the village at all. I want to stay here.”

It scares him, actually, how unfamiliar his village suddenly seems to him. He’d thought things were simple – unpleasant, but simple – but now, he’s learned that he doesn’t know what the people in Konoha are thinking at all. Apparently, they’ve been lying to him about his parents all his life. The thought of having to look them in the eyes with that knowledge--

It’s a lot, is all. And Naruto doesn’t like it. And also, he got the crap beaten out of him the last time he was in Konoha. Going to school means seeing those kids again. Which also sucks.

Kakashi makes a non-committal noise. “I guess I get that.” He smothers a yawn behind his hand. “But you have to go anyway.”

“What for?” Naruto demands. “You said you were going to teach me stuff, Kakashi-san!”

“Mm. I will.”

“So why do I have to--”

“Because I need to be alive in order to teach you stuff,” Kakashi says, “and you need to not be in prison. Which means that we need to not run the risk of someone coming to look for you. Which means…”

“Which means I have to go back,” Naruto finishes his sentence begrudgingly. “But I skip school all the time! It wouldn’t be that suspicious.”

Kakashi looks at him, calculating. “If you go to school today,” he says, “we can practice your ninjutsu afterwards.”

Naruto knows he’s being manipulated, and he hates that it works. “Fine,” he replies, crossing his arms; Kakashi smirks at him.

“You might want to get going, if you want to be on time,” Kakashi says, closing his eye. “There’s still blood in your hair and on your clothes. You may want to wash up before you go to school.”

Naruto exhales a long sigh, then gets up and drags his heavy backpack onto his back.

“Good luck,” Kakashi tells him as he leaves. “I know this isn’t easy. I’m sorry you have to go back.” He gives a huffed laugh. “If it means anything: you’re braver than I would be in your position.”

It means something. “Thanks. See you later.”

Naruto watches the sun rise as he makes his way back to Konoha. The forest is a nice shade of dark orange, and he finds that focusing on that eases his anxiety a little.

It stops working as the gates come into view, though. He can see a handful of shinobi from here, all adults. Involuntarily, he wonders: did those shinobi know about his parents? Was it easy for them to keep that a secret for ten years?

He instantly feels nauseous. He hides behind a bush, grimacing. Kakashi said that Naruto is brave, but Naruto suddenly isn’t sure if that’s really true. He feels like he’s going to cry.

He shakes his head and sucks in a deep breath, puffing out his chest. He’ll just run home in a straight line, he decides. He won’t talk to anyone. He won’t look at anyone. Maybe when he’s home and has taken a shower, he’ll feel calmer.

Before he can change his mind, he leaps out of the bushes and sprints towards the gates.

His plan is interrupted almost immediately. The moment he enters Konoha, someone grabs his wrist.

Already agitated, Naruto yells out and uses his momentum to blindly send a punch towards the person’s crotch. The person dodges with a curse and grabs Naruto’s other wrist as well.

“Seems he’s okay enough to fight,” the person says to someone else, and Naruto recognizes his voice: he’s one of the guards, the same one that tried to check on him after his classmates beat him up. Kotetsu was his name, he thinks?

The other guard was standing a bit ahead, but he approaches now and kneels down to Naruto’s level. Naruto bares his teeth at him. “The Hell do you want with me?” he snaps.

The other guard raises his hands in a placating gesture. “We’re under orders to bring you to the Hokage,” he says. “That’s all.”

Naruto’s stomach goes cold. No. No, he can’t face Hiruzen. Not now. Kakashi said that Hiruzen was probably the one who decided that nobody could tell Naruto about his mom and dad. Naruto cannot be in the same room as him and act like he doesn’t know that.

“I’ll talk to Hokage-jiji some other time.” Naruto gives the two guards a challenging glare. “I promise, all right? Right now, I just want to go home and take a shower and then go to school. So let me go.”

The two guards share a look, and then, Kotetsu shifts his stance to lift Naruto off the ground by his armpits.

Naruto kicks at him, yelling. “Get your hands off me, you dickbag--”

“Sorry, kid,” Kotetsu says, and he kinda does sound genuinely apologetic but Naruto is past caring. “Hokage’s orders. Izumo, would you--”

The next thing Naruto knows, he’s being carried like a sack of potatoes underneath Izumo’s arm, butt forward. His brain quickly offers some ways to fight back – grabbing his leg and making him fall, punching him in the back of the knee, trying to hit the chakra point in the thigh – but each method involves being dropped, having to make a run for it and then continuing to not get caught. The Hokage wants the guards to bring Naruto to him. They’d always find him again.

Begrudgingly, Naruto lets Izumo carry him.

He’s taken to Hiruzen’s home instead of his office, which is actually a huge relief, because the Hokage’s office is above the Academy and Naruto does not want his classmates to see him being dragged around like this.

Naruto has been to Hiruzen’s home before. He knows that it’s massive on the outside, but that most of the rooms on the inside are mostly filled with secret documents and stuff. Since those rooms are always locked up, the space that Hiruzen actually lives in is relatively small. Still massive, still ten times as large as Naruto’s apartment, but small enough to be cozy. Naruto never felt intimidated by the huge building.

As the looming shape of the building comes into view, Naruto realizes that he feels intimidated now.

His only solace is that the guards seem intimidated, too. As they reach the front door, they nod their chins at each other in turn with increasing intensity, before Izumo sighs loudly and knocks. “Hokage-sama!” he calls. “Uzumaki Naruto has returned.”

“The door is unlocked,” Hiruzen’s voice comes from one of the open windows. “Come in. I am in my office.”

Izumo carries Naruto inside, Kotetsu leading the way. The hallway smells strongly of food. Hiruzen’s cook must be busy making breakfast, then. He has a few staff members: a cook and someone who cleans the place, and the rest are ANBU who guard the forbidden documents. There’s probably about a dozen of them in total, though Naruto has never been certain of the number of ANBU. The staff all work hard to keep the Hokage mansion safe and clean, and to make sure the Hokage exclusively eats fancy-ass food. Naruto tries hard to pretend he’s not hungry.

The Hokage’s home office is a familiar place as well. The first door to the left leads to a room that’s covered in bookcases on one side and drawers with scrolls on the other side, with a desk in the middle of the room. It looks impressive, but Naruto knows that nothing in here is valuable. It’s just Hiruzen’s personal collection of historical fiction.

Hiruzen sits at the desk, watching the guards enter. Izumo quickly puts Naruto down, and Naruto immediately turns around to scowl at the guards. When he turns to look at Hiruzen again, he’s smiling fondly.

It feels exactly as horrible to see him as Naruto had expected.

Hiruzen opens his mouth to speak, but Naruto can’t let him. His brain would probably explode. “Why do you want me here, old man?” he snaps before Hiruzen has the chance to say anything. “I’m gonna be late for school.”

Hiruzen looks surprised, but the expression turns into a smile again almost immediately. “I wanted to see for myself whether you’re all right.” Hiruzen turns to the two guards. “Would you go and inform Iruka-sensei that Naruto will be late?”

The guards give a bow to Hiruzen. They leave with an awkward look towards Naruto. Naruto sticks his tongue out at them as they close the door behind themselves.

Hiruzen watches him, looking vaguely amused. “They are sorry for what happened yesterday, you know,” he says.

“They told you?” Naruto asks. He’s not sure how to feel about that.

“They told me that you ran out to the forest.” Hiruzen leans back in his chair. “And that you were hurt, and that they didn’t keep you from getting hurt.”

“Well, I guess it’s not their job to give a crap about me,” Naruto allows with a grumble.

“It is not,” Hiruzen agrees with a nod. “Still, it would be nice if the people in this village helped other people in this village, regardless of whether it was their job to do that, wouldn’t it?” He turns to the window. “I told Izumo and Kotetsu that, too. The looks on their faces were quite amusing.”

Naruto realizes abruptly that he’d normally laugh at that comment, so he quickly does. It sounds forced. It sounds like he doesn’t want to be here.

Hiruzen doesn’t seem to notice, though; he turns back to look at Naruto. “I assume you haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”

Naruto shakes his head. Damn it, now he’s hungry again.

Hiruzen smiles and continues: “Good thing I asked for extra food this morning, then. Eat with me, would you?”

Naruto thinks about protesting – it’s torture to even imagine continuing this small-talk with Hiruzen like he didn’t keep a crucial secret for ten years – but his stomach growls before he can get a word out of his mouth.

Hiruzen laughs. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says. “Unfortunately, it’ll be another few minutes before the food is ready to eat. Why don’t you take a shower first? You can use the guest bathroom.”

Naruto plucks at the front of his jacket, which is covered in dirt and specks of blood. “Maybe after breakfast,” he says. “I should put on some clean clothes at home.”

Hiruzen gives a mysterious smile and walks over to his desk. From a drawer, he takes a bundle of blue-and-yellow fabric. When Naruto raises an eyebrow at him, he explains: “These are for you. Some new clothes. I had intended to give them to you at the end of the month, along with your allowance, but I suppose now is as good a time as any.”

Naruto walks over slowly, feeling like he should be suspicious. He needs to consciously remind himself that, until last night, Hiruzen was always one of the only good guys of Naruto’s story. He’s always been kind like this. He’s never mistreated Naruto. Naruto shouldn’t feel on edge.

Somehow, that knowledge makes it worse.

“Thanks,” Naruto murmurs, and he takes the clothes from him. The fabric feels clean and sturdy and new.

He knows where the guest bathroom is, so he hurries to lock himself in there before he has to look Hiruzen in the eyes again. Once the door is closed, he leans against the door and clenches his jaws. Now that he’s alone, the whole ordeal is catching up to him – his sudden distrust towards Hiruzen, the energy it costs to not let his betrayal show, the realization that he’ll never view one of the least awful people in his life the same way he did before. It makes him want to escape through the window and sprint back to the forest and hide and cry.

He can’t, though. He’s already decided that running away is not an option. He’ll just have to play along.

He cranks the shower’s temperature up as high as it’ll go, because if he can’t yell at Hiruzen’s face, the least he can do is use up his hot water out of spite. The water immediately runs pink with dried blood, though it takes a lot of scrubbing before he’s washed all of the blood off. Even when he feels like he’s washed himself pretty thoroughly, he still finds blood in the creases of his palm, underneath his nails, in his eyebrow, in his ear. Naruto decides to use up Hiruzen’s stupid flowery soap as well.

Naruto takes his time, enough so that the entire large bathroom is filled with steam by the time he’s done. He wraps himself in a fluffy towel and sits on the floor, to examine his new clothes and to procrastinate actually putting them on.

It’s a dark blue hoodie and dark blue pants, a matching set. The hoodie has yellow sleeves, and little yellow leaves embroidered along the back.

The clothes are… nice. Far too nice. Naruto touches the little leaves on the hoodie with his fingertips and sighs. He can already imagine himself ruining these clothes. He’ll have to go home and put on different clothes after this, he decides. He can’t wear this to school.

He’s still sitting on the floor, hesitating, when Hiruzen knocks on the door and tells him that breakfast is ready. Despite everything, Naruto manages to force himself to put on the clothes.

They’re nice. He thinks he would’ve preferred it if they were lined with poison ivy.

Hiruzen waits in the kitchen, where the table is covered in different dishes. It feels like a punch to the gut to be faced with Hiruzen again, but--

But some sort of ravenous instinct completely overrides his rage and suddenly his mouth is filled with egg and warm rice and his head is filled with nothing but contentment.

“Eat slowly, or you’ll give yourself a stomachache,” Hiruzen says with a smile, but he doesn’t butt in further than that. He doesn’t even tell Naruto to mind his manners when he puts down his chopsticks and eats his rice with his hands.

He hadn’t even realized he was this hungry. Maybe he’s just been using up more energy than usual, lately. Maybe the emotions he’s been through these past days – almost losing Kakashi to his illness, finding out about his parents – pushed away his hunger.

It’s really good food. Naruto doesn’t dislike the food he normally eats, not at all, he likes ramen a lot. But there’s something about eating the same food every day – even food that he likes – that makes food like this taste even better. He even eats the vegetables.

Hiruzen decides he’s eaten enough before Naruto does, probably to leave more food for Naruto – which is nice, why does he have to be so nice? – and lights his pipe. Thoughtfully, he sits back and exhales a cloud of smoke.

“If you hadn’t come back when you did,” he says, “I would have sent someone to look for you.”

Naruto looks up at the comment, considering. In a way, it’s good that nobody came after him – they would’ve found Kakashi, and that would’ve been ugly. But, on the other hand--

“Why not send someone after me immediately?”

Hiruzen gives Naruto a wry smile. “I am certain you’re clever enough to figure that out by yourself.”

How wonderfully cryptic. Naruto crosses his arms and stares up at the ceiling, thinking. Because nobody gives a damn, that’s the short answer – but even if nobody wanted to come look for him, they would’ve had to if the Hokage ordered them to. Some unwilling shinobi would’ve been forced into the forest to look for a kid they didn’t like.

It’s uncomfortable to imagine how that would’ve ended. If they’d found Naruto, they probably would’ve manhandled him all the way back to the village. Probably would’ve held him upside down like that guard did this morning, or something worse. That would’ve been unpleasant, with that nauseating headache that he had for most of the night.

“Yeah, well,” Naruto admits, “maybe it’s for the best that no one came looking for me.”

Hiruzen gives a nod. “I had faith you’d be all right,” he says. “You have spent the night in the forest before, and you heal fast. For the sake of your wellbeing, I figured it would be best to trust your abilities.”

Something doesn’t feel right about that. Naruto chews slowly, suddenly feeling like he can’t swallow.

“How did you know I’ve spent the night in the forest before?”

Hiruzen smiles mysteriously. “There is little that happens in this village without me knowing about it,” he replies.

Naruto’s brain connects the dots fast. The guards must’ve been keeping track of when he left and came back after all. They said they weren’t, but of course they were lying, how did Naruto not realize before?

“You’re not in trouble,” Hiruzen continues. “Academy students are supposed to stay in the village for their own safety. But I know you can keep yourself safe out there, and I know the forest is a place you like to be. I don’t want to take that from you.”

Naruto half expects him to follow that up with a “but”, but he doesn’t. “That’s nice of you.”

“Your happiness is important to me. If spending time in the forest is what’s needed to make you happy, then you should be allowed to spend time there.”

There’s something hanging between them, some sort of tension, a question Hiruzen meant to ask but hasn’t yet. Naruto has started getting really good at sensing when someone is keeping something from him.

“Hey, jiji?”

“Yes?”

Naruto swallows his mouthful of food. “You never really answered my question.”

Hiruzen raises his eyebrows. “What question?”

“I asked you why you wanted me to be here.”

The old man smiles. “I said that I wanted to see for myself whether you were all right, remember?”

Naruto makes a grumbling noise. Not the right answer. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you’ve been lying to me my whole life,” is what Naruto wants to scream, but he doesn’t. “Just ‘cause.”

Hiruzen takes a drag from his pipe, watching Naruto thoughtfully, and exhales a cloud of smoke. “Very perceptive of you, Naruto,” he says eventually, and Naruto’s breath freezes in his chest. “Though you’re not fully right. I did want to make sure you’re okay. That wasn’t a lie.” He takes a sip of his tea. “But I also called you here because there was something I wanted to ask you.”

Naruto steels himself. “What did you want to know?”

“Again, you’re not in trouble,” Hiruzen repeats. “Nothing bad will happen if you answer me, and nothing bad will happen if you don’t.”

“Spit it out, would you?”

Hiruzen takes another drag from his pipe. Naruto realizes abruptly that he’s preparing himself to speak. He seems hesitant to ask.

What the Hell kind of question would--

“Does the name Hatake Kakashi sound familiar to you?”

Chapter Text

On the afternoon of October 23^rd, Naruto lost a fight with his classmates and disappeared into the forest. Izumo and Kotetsu reported as much to Hiruzen.

The two of them left with sheepish apologies and with the order to take the night shift as punishment for their inaction. Hiruzen sat in silence in his office for a moment after the door shut behind the chuunin, before rolling his desk chair over to a bookcase on the right.

He unlocked a lock with a burst of his chakra and opened a drawer. Returning to his desk, he set down his crystal ball.

Automatically, he moved to wipe the dust off the surface before realizing it wasn’t necessary. The crystal ball often went long periods of time without being used, but Hiruzen had used it just a few days prior, when those two dead jounin were found in the forest. The jutsu allowed him to find the locations of everyone he knew the chakra signature of, so he had checked which known missing-nin were nearby enough to be responsible for the jounin’s deaths.

He had found nothing. The only peculiar thing was that one chakra signature was nowhere to be found at all. That could just mean that the chakra signature was hidden, though, or that the missing-nin was dead. It didn’t have to mean something.

He folded his hands into the proper signs and focused on finding Naruto’s chakra signature. It was nearby, the orb showed him; Naruto, with already-drying blood in his hair, was running through the woods, alone. He was well enough to run, and he was safe. That was good to see.

Hiruzen watched over him for a short while, making sure he remained safe. He did so more out of sentimentality than because of a real reason for concern; if there was some unknown missing-nin in the woods, they would’ve already had many opportunities to harm Naruto. He’d been in the forest every day, even before Konoha found the jounin’s bodies – if a missing-nin had wanted him, they would have taken him already. Very few missing-nin would dare to be so bold, though. Getting this close to Konoha at all was a risky decision for missing-nin.

Hiruzen was torn from his musings by the crystal ball; quite suddenly, it went entirely blank again, Naruto’s image disappearing. The jutsu had lost Naruto’s chakra signature.

Hiruzen sat back in his chair, eyebrows raised. It was clear that Naruto was not dead – Hiruzen had seen shinobi die through his crystal ball, and the change was much more gradual, the image fizzling out rather than just disappearing – but rather, that his chakra signature had suddenly become hidden.

Very odd. Naruto was certainly not able to do that. Perhaps he had entered some space where his chakra was hidden.

But such spaces didn’t occur naturally this close to Konoha. Seals – fresh seals, which Hiruzen didn’t know about – must be hiding this spot away. Someone other than Naruto must have drawn those seals, someone whom Naruto knew about and was intentionally running towards. An ally of his.

An ally, who was clever enough to use chakra concealing seals… Someone whose own chakra signature was also currently nowhere to be found… Someone who was familiar with the woods around Konoha, and who consistently quietly visited around October 11^th, and who would have no intention of harming Naruto…

Hiruzen was increasingly certain about that gut feeling he’d had before. He was increasingly certain that Naruto had struck up a alliance with Hatake Kakashi.

Hiruzen folded his fingers. Out of all the missing-nin he knew of, Kakashi was the least bad one Naruto could have come across. He was quiet, and he was only violent when threatened. Hiruzen had known for years that Kakashi visited Konoha each October, and he had allowed it because Kakashi never started trouble. Perhaps he also left Kakashi alone because he felt like he had failed him; allowing him to visit the graves of his comrades was the least Hiruzen could do. Kakashi was quite like Uchiha Itachi in that sense.

Of course, there was a difference between tolerating Kakashi and letting a ten-year-old Konoha citizen be friends with him… Kakashi may not cause trouble, but missing-nin did still always attract a lot of trouble.

Well, as for what to do with Naruto, Hiruzen would think of later. For all he knew, there was something entirely different going on; it sounded like a pretty story inside his head, but he was aware he was making a lot of assumptions. The sudden disappearance of Naruto’s chakra signature was a good lead, though.

The next time he spoke to Naruto, he would try to confirm whether his assumptions were correct.

“Does the name Hatake Kakashi sound familiar to you?”

The sensation of being kicked in the head is still fresh in Naruto’s mind. The way his vision went white, the way his ears rang, his stomach turned. The way the rest of the world seemed to disappear a little bit, leaving him with nothing but disoriented terror.

Hiruzen’s question feels much the same way.

He knows. He knows about Kakashi. He knows Naruto knows him.

Naruto screwed something up somehow, and now--

And now, he has to talk his way out of it. He’s not sure what will happen if he fails – Hiruzen said that nothing bad would happen if he answered him and nothing bad would happen if he didn’t, but he could very well be lying. The possibility of losing his only friend claws its way up Naruto’s throat.

He needs to pretend he doesn’t know who Kakashi is. He promised Kakashi he wouldn’t say anything, and keep that promise he will.

In a moment of clarity and sheer luck, he manages to recall how he reacted when Kakashi told him his mom’s name. How he genuinely didn’t recognize it.

Naruto looks away, narrowing his eyes at a nearby plate of salmon and scrunching up his nose. “I mean,” he says slowly, “I don’t think so… Is it someone I should know?”

Hiruzen’s face is friendly and entirely unreadable. “Not necessarily,” he replies. “I was just curious.” He takes a drag from his pipe. “Iruka-sensei tells me you’ve been taking care of a sick dog in the woods.”

Hey, what? “You’re just dropping the subject now?” Naruto blurts out. “You got all intense about this Kakashi guy and now you don’t care anymore? Why’d you even bring him up?”

“Because I have reasons to believe that Kakashi is also in the woods around our village right now.” He turns to the window, looking outside. “And I wondered, just as a thought experiment: what if Kakashi and that dog of yours were one and the same?”

Naruto’s fancy new jacket is slowly getting soaked with sweat. Lying once wasn’t enough. He gives a shaky laugh. “Your brain is weird, jiji.”

“It certainly is. And my thought experiment wasn’t even correct; you don’t know Kakashi at all.” At Naruto’s cautious nod, he continues: “Still, would you mind joining me in my thought experiment for a moment?”

Of course he minds, but he can’t say that. “Okay.”

“Let’s say that, hypothetically, there isn’t a dog,” Hiruzen says. Naruto can tell that he’s watching him for a reaction from the corner of his eye. It makes the hairs on his arms stand upright. “And that it’s, instead, Kakashi whom you’ve been helping.”

“Which isn’t the case,” Naruto says, voice carefully steady.

“Thought experiment,” Hiruzen reminds him kindly. “So, Hatake Kakashi is a missing-nin.” Naruto nods thoughtfully, trying very hard to seem like this is new information for him. “I know Kakashi,” Hiruzen continues, “and I know he means our village no harm. In this hypothetical scenario, I know there’s a missing-nin outside of our village, but I don’t know whether it’s Kakashi. It could be someone else, who does want to attack our village.”

He pauses, and Naruto realizes he’s expecting him to respond. “That’d be bad,” he says belatedly.

“I, as the Hokage, want to keep our village safe,” Hiruzen continues. “If I can’t verify whether the missing-nin outside of our village wants to harm us or not, I will consider them a threat.” He turns to look at Naruto; his expression is serious. “Do you understand what that means?”

“It means you’ll send shinobi to kill the missing-nin.”

It means that, if Naruto doesn’t tell Hiruzen that the missing-nin is Kakashi, then Kakashi will be killed.

Hiruzen gives a nod. “Correct. And if it then turns out that I gave the order to kill Hatake Kakashi, I would be quite sad. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for his death.” He turns towards the window again, taking a drag from his pipe. “What a complicated thought experiment, don’t you think?”

Naruto balls his fists. It frustrates him that Hiruzen keeps calling it a thought experiment, because they both know it’s not. It’s a trick. Or maybe it’s not a trick: maybe it’s an opportunity for Naruto to save Kakashi.

“So what would you do if I did tell you it’s Kakashi?” Naruto asks, and adds a bit too intensely: “As a thought experiment.”

“Interesting question,” Hiruzen says thoughtfully. “I would leave him alone.” At Naruto’s questioning look, Hiruzen clarifies: “I would stop the extra patrols around the forest, because their purpose was to find out whether the missing-nin was still around and who it was; you would’ve answered those questions. I would keep his presence a secret – I don’t want him dead, but there are people who disagree with my views, and they would hunt him for the price on his head. And I would discreetly keep our shinobi away from him as much as possible, because the law says missing-nin are to be killed on sight but I’m afraid he’d kill our shinobi first.”

“Couldn’t you change the law or something?”

A corner of Hiruzen’s mouth twitches, a wry smile. “I cannot simply decide that some missing-nin are good and some aren’t. There happens to be a political opponent of mine who would find that very weak,” he says, “and he would use that to turn Konoha against me. Chaos would follow, and that’d put our village in danger. Danzou could become Hokage, and you should trust me when I say that would be the downfall of Konoha.” He gives Naruto a warm smile. “But that might be a bit advanced for our thought experiment. I suppose my answer is that I can’t actively offer Kakashi protection, but I won’t give the order to harm him, either.”

It sounds good. It sounds like a really good offer – at the very least, it sounds way better than letting Hiruzen give the order to kill Kakashi.

But… But Naruto promised Kakashi he wouldn’t tell anyone about him. He doesn’t break promises, he never does.

Except Naruto suddenly isn’t sure anymore that lying is the best thing to do here. Damn it. Damn it, he really doesn’t know what to do.

He stays silent, staring defiantly up at Hiruzen.

Hiruzen smiles at him, kindly, and puts away his pipe. “If it’s truly a dog you’re taking care of,” he says, “then, forget everything we talked about. But if it’s Kakashi, this would be a good time to tell me. I’m headed to my office, now.”

He starts to get up. Naruto’s skull fills with panic. He tightens his fists so tightly he can feel his nails dig into his palms.

Hiruzen has already turned around when Naruto speaks, through gritted teeth.

“It is Kakashi. Why would you make me rat out my friend like that?”

Chapter Text

Breaking promises has always felt physically painful to Naruto.

He’s not very good at pinpointing why. Maybe he’s tired of being seen as a liar. Maybe he wants other people to realize that his words mean something. Maybe it’s because the other people in the village are so intent on disliking him – he wants them to have this one thing that they like about him.

This promise in particular hurts like a bone fracture.

The moment he tells Hiruzen about Kakashi, pain erupts in his ribcage. He does not show it. He keeps staring at Hiruzen, as though his stare could make him burst into flames and end this horrible conversation.

It does neither of those things. Hiruzen turns around to face him, his expression complicated. “So it is Kakashi,” he says. “Are you certain?”

Naruto knows he can’t lie convincingly enough to take back his words, and he despises it. “Yeah.”

Hiruzen gives a thoughtful hum and, to Naruto’s horror, sits back down at the table. “It has been a long time since I last spoke to Kakashi,” he muses. “Has life been treating him well these past ten years?”

Naruto files that knowledge away for later, for when he’s less angry. “That’s none of your business,” he growls. “I’m not telling you anything else.”

Hiruzen gives a mild smile in response. “I was just curious about it.” His smile turns sympathetic. “Although I suppose the fact that he’s accepting your help already answers that question. He’s not doing very well, is he?”

Naruto crosses his arms. “I’m not saying anything.”

“He must be grateful for your help,” Hiruzen says. “It’s an admirable quality, to go out of your way to help others.”

Naruto almost lets down his guard at the compliment. “Shut up.”

Hiruzen nods at him like he said something insightful that he needs to think about. The silence that falls after that is uncomfortably long. Whatever Hiruzen is thinking about, he’s thinking about it really hard. Naruto squirms in his seat, frowning at him.

“Can I go?” Naruto demands after a while, impatient. “I told you what you wanted to know. I’m late for school.”

His attempt at leaving proves futile. If anything, it just snaps Hiruzen out of whatever thoughts he’d been mulling over. With a sigh, he turns towards Naruto. “It pains me to do this, Naruto,” he says, “but there is a certain law I need to remind you of.”

Naruto’s blood freezes in his veins. He keeps quiet; he has enough experience with breaking rules to know that keeping his mouth shut is usually smart.

“As I’m sure the Academy has taught you,” Hiruzen continues, slowly, “helping missing-nin is highly illegal.”

Naruto nods slowly. They’re back doing this conversational game, whatever it is. He likes it even less, now.

“I will overlook the fact that you’re breaking the law this time,” Hiruzen continues, “but it’s not something I can condone forever. That law exists for good reasons. Missing-nin attract trouble. Helping them will also land you in trouble.”

Kakashi said something similar. Naruto grits his teeth. “I know, and I don’t care.”

“I care.” He seems entirely sincere.

Whatever words Naruto had meant to snap in response die on his tongue. Hiruzen has always been protective of him. Not for the first time today, Naruto realizes that that may not be as good a thing as he always assumed.

Hiruzen’s expression is sympathetic. “The entire world is Kakashi’s enemy,” he says. “If one of his enemies tries to fight him, you could get caught in the crossfire. I don’t want you to end up hurt, or worse.” He sits back. “And if someone finds out you’re breaking the law, it will get messy, and the consequences for your future could be serious – I don’t want that for you, either.”

Naruto has a bad feeling about this. “What are you getting at?”

“I don’t want you to go outside the village anymore.” Hiruzen’s gaze is coolly pragmatic behind his sympathy. “I hope you understand this is for your own good.”

Naruto’s ears ring. He rises to his feet and slams his hands down on the table. The empty plates rattle. “You said,” he yells, pausing to gasp for a desperate breath, “you said nothing bad would happen if I said anything.”

“I am trying to keep you safe,” Hiruzen says calmly. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Without my help, Kakashi will…” Naruto balls his hands into fists in his hair, baring his teeth. “He’ll die!”

“Kakashi is resourceful. He will survive.”

“He won’t, he’s hurt, he’s--” Naruto can’t finish that sentence; he can’t give away even more information than he already has.

Panting, he snarls at Hiruzen’s calm face. There’s no way he’ll ever convince Hiruzen, he realizes. They’ve played his game and Naruto has lost. From now on, Naruto won’t be able to go outside the village anymore.

This is what he gets for getting his hopes up, a little voice in his head says. This is what he gets for letting himself believe he could have a happy future, just because he happened to stumble across the one person in the world who could give him that future. This is what he gets for believing he was just that lucky.

He got naïve, he got hopeful, and now it’ll be that much harder to accept that Kakashi is going to die.

His throat feels raw. “Fine,” he chokes out. “Would you at least up my allowance, then? I got part of my food from the forest.”

Hiruzen nods his head. “That is an acceptable compromise.”

“Yeah. Well, whatever.” Naruto wipes his nose on the sleeve of his new jacket. “I’m going to school.”

He does not go to school. Not right away, at least. He stops by his apartment first.

It’s the only place he has where he can scream in peace.

Naruto is five hours late to school, and when he finally arrives, he arrives with a frown that could put Iruka himself to shame. He walks in mid-lesson, stomps to his seat and takes out his books. He doesn’t speak. Iruka makes the wise decision to just continue his lesson; he doesn’t know what caused Naruto’s mood and he doesn’t feel like aggravating it.

Throughout the entire afternoon, the kid continues to look upset. Not restless. Not bored. Genuinely upset, trembling lower lip and everything. When one of his classmates points it out and Naruto throws his history book at him, Iruka can barely bring himself to scold Naruto for it.

When the day ends and Iruka’s students are released from the classroom, Naruto stays behind. He stays in his seat, blankly staring at his history book. He’s probably having a hard time making sense of Iruka’s lessons, considering he skipped school this morning and yesterday afternoon. Iruka informs him that he has another twenty minutes to ask Iruka questions before he goes home; Naruto doesn’t really react, so Iruka leaves him to his devices in favor of cleaning the blackboard.

After a while, Naruto sighs through his teeth and asks quietly: “Iruka-sensei? Can I ask you something?”

He’s slumped in his seat, chin propped up on his hand. He looks exhausted. Iruka doesn’t comment on it; instead, he just nods and walks towards Naruto’s seat.

“What is it?” he asks. He’s expecting Naruto to point at a section of his book and ask “What the Hell does this mean?” like he’s done many times before, but Naruto just looks away.

“Do you remember that I told you about that dog I’m taking care of?”

Iruka blinks. “Yeah.” As if he would forget about the first time he realized that Naruto does other things than causing trouble in his spare time. He’d seemed so serious about helping that dog; Iruka feels a pang of sympathy at the kid’s upsetness about it now. “Did something happen to it?”

Naruto looks at the floor. “Well, kind of. He’s still alive, but…” His frown deepens. “Hokage-jiji won’t let me take care of him anymore.”

“Oh.” Iruka can tell that this is going to be a long story. He leans his hip against the nearest table. “And why is that?”

“It’s not my fault,” Naruto insists, and he seems so desperate about it that Iruka immediately feels bad for assuming. “It’s because the dog is in the forest, and Hokage-jiji thinks it’s too dangerous for me to go out there.”

“It is true that Academy students aren’t allowed to go outside the village walls,” Iruka reminds him.

“I know!” Naruto reacts, but he seems too tired to actually get mad about it. His shoulders slump. “Anyway. That’s what I wanted to ask you about.” At Iruka’s silence, he continues: “Would you… please… check on the dog and bring him food?”

In his head, Iruka weighs the possibility of this being a prank. That doesn’t seem to add up, though. Naruto first mentioned the dog four days ago. If he were planning on pranking Iruka, he wouldn’t have had the patience to wait for that long. Plus, this upsetness… it’s not something a ten-year-old could fake.

He shouldn’t be considering saying yes. He hasn’t managed to make himself forget about the demon sealed within the boy yet – keeping his distance from Naruto, both literally and emotionally, is the only coping mechanism he’s found so far. He doesn’t want to feel compassion towards him. His mind doesn’t know what to do with it.

Despite that, he finds himself nodding.

The hope in Naruto’s eyes makes it worth it, a little bit. “Are you sure?” he asks. “It might be dangerous. And Hokage-jiji probably won’t like it.”

Iruka is sure that Hiruzen will have mercy on him, if he’s caught at all. “Dangerous how?”

“Well,” Naruto replies, shifting in his seat, “you’ve got to be really careful with the dog, otherwise he’ll, uh, bite. You have to announce that you’re there, and that I sent you. And you have to call him Dog-san.”

“Dog-san,” Iruka echoes. “That’s… a creative name.”

“I’m not the one who gave him that name,” Naruto says, crossing his arms. “Not that it matters. Do you think you can do it?”

Iruka doesn’t need to give it much thought. “I think that should be all right, yeah.”

There’s something quietly gnawing at him, telling him that the possibility of danger is greater than Naruto says. Iruka acknowledges the feeling, but chooses not to act on it. He always feels a bit on edge whenever Naruto is involved.

Naruto’s face lights up. “Thank you,” he says, pressing his backpack into Iruka’s hands. “This is Dog-san’s food.”

The backpack rattles with the unmistakeable sound of plastic and uncooked ramen. Iruka raises an eyebrow at Naruto. “I did tell you not to give ramen to dogs, didn’t I?”

Naruto’s ears flush red. “Would you just give it to him? Please?”

Iruka gives a hesitant nod and makes a mental note to buy some proper dog food later.

After that, Naruto tells him the details of the dog’s location. It’s farther away from the village than Iruka expected. He hasn’t the slightest idea how Naruto even found this dog; in a way, he’s glad about that, because he knows that the knowledge would just give him a headache.

Naruto leaves soon afterwards, looking considerably less tense. Iruka stays and stares at the door for a bit, before getting up and heading towards the market.

Kiba said there’s a few things sick dogs should eat… What was it again? Chicken, rice and eggs?

Chapter Text

With a backpack filled with food, Iruka steps outside the village gates after sundown.

It’d taken him longer than expected to get ready to leave. Preparing the food wasn’t the issue – he’s not all that capable in the kitchen, but he knows how to cook rice, chicken and an egg – but he realized halfway through that this task was more complicated than just bringing the food to the dog and leaving. If Iruka left the food out in the open in the middle of the forest, it would expire quickly, or get eaten by other animals. Iruka could put it in a container of some sort, but the dog wouldn’t be able to open that.

His solution was to figure out a seal that would open a container automatically if it was touched by a living animal, and then – because apparently he loved giving himself headaches – combine that seal with a different seal to keep the food fresh for longer. That seal then needed to be made small enough to apply onto the top of the food containers.

He’d still been figuring out a way for the dog to close the containers again when he realized how late it was, so he’d left that for what it was. Even without that function, it truly is a pretty ingenious seal. It’s just a shame no one will see it apart from Naruto’s stray. He might’ve overdone it, but then again, he doesn’t like half-assing things.

At a brisk pace, he follows the instructions Naruto gave him for finding the dog. “From the gate, follow the path to the left until you’ve walked halfway around the village – do you remember that one tree where Choji puked when we were running laps around the village? You leave the path there and walk straight, uh, in the direction of the sunset? East? Sorry, West. You walk West for about fifteen minutes and then you’ll see a really ugly plant with purple leaves. One of the bushes around it is loose. The secret hiding spot is behind it. If you hear the creek, you’re too far.”

Iruka had been a bit concerned about how vague Naruto’s instructions were, but they make a surprising amount of sense once he’s actually out in the forest. He has a bit of trouble finding the “really ugly plant” in the moonlight, but he happens to spot it when he’s busy pulling his pant leg from a thorny vine.

As Naruto said, a loose bush nearby hides the entrance of a tunnel. He rolls the bush aside and crouches, looking into the tunnel.

Awkwardly, he clears his throat. “Excuse me, uh, Dog-san?” he calls. He’s not used to talking to animals, but Naruto said the dog would bite if he didn’t, so he supposes he’ll just have to get over himself. “Naruto sent me.”

He doesn’t realize that he’d been waiting for a response until seconds later, and he shakes himself. There’s just something in the air here that makes him think he’s talking to a person. Just in case, he takes out a kunai.

“I’m coming in,” he adds absent-mindedly, before taking a breath, mentally preparing himself for the possibility of this being a prank, and entering the tunnel.

He descends the tunnel slowly, squinting in the darkness. It brings with it a sense of déjà vu; the feeling of the vaguely-damp dirt underneath his hands, the smell of old blood and whatever it is that sickness smells like. He can’t remember anything like this happening before, though. Maybe a childhood memory. He used to spend a lot of time in these woods when he was young, too.

As he nears the end of the tunnel, Iruka hears a new sound: heavy breathing. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand upright. He tightens his grip on the kunai. Of course he wouldn’t just stab a dog – but he feels increasingly certain that whatever is waiting at the end of this tunnel isn’t a dog. Something’s wrong here.

…Naruto wouldn’t actually put him in danger, right? Iruka can’t be fully certain. Carrying a weapon seems only natural.

The light of a flashlight illuminates the end of the tunnel, and Iruka pauses, hiding in the shadows. Every muscle in his body is tense. He’ll risk a look, he decides, and if he doesn’t like what he sees, he’ll turn around and get backup and make Naruto write “I won’t put my teachers in danger” on the blackboard until his fingers fall off.

Cautiously, slowly, he leans forwards.

There’s…

A large white dog, lying on its stomach on the ground, covered by an orange blanket.

“Huh,” Iruka finds himself saying. He suddenly feels really guilty for not believing Naruto. Quickly, he puts his kunai away and crawls into the light.

The dog watches him, one dark eye open. Its body language gives off the impression of laziness, but it’s watching Iruka’s every move. Iruka gets the sense that it’s assessing whether to attack or not.

He sits down on his knees and holds out his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he says. “I brought food.”

He shrugs out of the backpack, making sure not to make any sudden movements, and zips the backpack open. The dog tenses up when Iruka reaches his hand into the backpack; it doesn’t relax when Iruka pulls out food containers instead of a weapon, but it doesn’t tense up further, either.

Iruka spreads out the containers on the ground, careful not to touch the seals on the lids. With an exasperated sigh, he also sets down the ramen cups Naruto packed, and the bottle of water. The dog idly watches him empty the backpack, then shifts its gaze to Iruka.

Iruka studies the dog in turn, wondering. Would this dog be sufficiently used to shinobi to know how a seal works? He can’t really tell based on looks. At the very least, it doesn’t look like any of the Inuzuka’s dogs. If Iruka didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that this was an actual wild animal – a wolf of some kind. It’s certainly big enough to be a wolf.

It could be used to seals, but Iruka would rather not assume. “These are seals,” he explains. He feels slightly less awkward about talking now; if he’s right and this is a ninja hound, it can understand human speech a little bit. That makes him feel much less stupid. “If you touch them, the container will open. Like this.” He takes one of the dog’s front paws, intending to touch it to the lid to demonstrate the seal. The dog immediately bares its teeth with a growl, and Iruka quickly backs off. Not a fan of being touched, then.

With a muttered apology, Iruka instead touches the seal with his own hand. The seal summons exactly the right amount of pressure underneath it to pop the container open, but not enough to splatter the food everywhere. It took a couple of tries to get it right. Iruka’s eyebrows are still sticky from when he got a face full of scrambled egg.

“So,” he says, “that’s how it works.” He puts the opened container – filled with cooked rice – as close to the dog’s head as he dares. The dog doesn’t look at the container; it doesn’t take its eye off Iruka.

Iruka watches the dog for a while, waiting to see whether it will eat, but it doesn’t. Eventually, the dog raises its head to wheeze loudly, then glares at him.

Iruka gets the impression that he’s overstaying his welcome. He quickly zips Naruto’s empty backpack closed, swings it onto his back again, and gets his feet underneath him.

“It was nice meeting you, Dog-san,” Iruka says, more as a joke than anything else. “Hope you feel better soon.”

The dog gives a huff in response, as if to say “thanks” or perhaps “hurry up and screw off”.

As soon as Naruto’s teacher moves beyond where Kakashi can sense him, Kakashi dispels the henge, rolls himself onto his good side and coughs harshly into his sleeve. His bad side smarts; he’d hidden his weapons pouches and the medicine underneath his stomach, and it put pressure on the wound. He allows himself to groan now that there’s no one around to hear it.

He managed to pass for a dog for just barely long enough; a few more minutes and his control on his chakra would have slipped, or he would’ve made a sound that was just a bit too human.

He leans his forehead against the ground, panting. That entire henge was a wild damn guess – a gamble based purely on the fact that Iruka called him “Dog-san”, and apparently he lucked out. Naruto must’ve thought up a cover story. Kakashi would’ve appreciated it if he’d told him about the cover story, but, well. More pressing matters are on hand.

His head throbs sharply from the adrenaline. Something must’ve happened to Naruto. He wouldn’t just send someone else out here for no reason. Something must have happened--

Despair is already crawling up his throat, but he swallows it back down. There’s no use panicking just yet. Iruka said Naruto sent him, which at least means he’s not dead. Maybe the kid left a message somewhere hidden, like the Academy teaches its students to do.

On the inside of the wrapper around the cup of ramen, he finds a message in messy handwriting, written almost entirely in hiragana and filled with misspellings. He hasn’t seen Naruto’s handwriting before, but he can absolutely imagine that it would look like this.

Dear Dog-san:

I’m sorry. I messed up. The Hokage knows you’re here and he said he was going to kill you if I didn’t admit I was helping you. So I told him. Even though I promised you I wouldn’t tell anyone about you. I’m really sorry. I get it if you’re mad at me.

Anger does well up inside Kakashi, but it’s not directed at Naruto. He doubts it’s Naruto’s fault that Hiruzen knows he’s here. The kid seems to take his promises seriously, and he seems careful; if he’d been careless, they would’ve already been in trouble days ago.

Naruto must’ve been on the receiving end of Hiruzen’s interrogation skills. Kakashi can only imagine how devastating that conversation must’ve been. He knows of other Kage who have lost verbal battles to Hiruzen. Naruto, ten years old and a terrible liar, didn’t stand a chance at all.

With that anger buzzing underneath his skin, Kakashi continues reading.

The Hokage said he’ll keep his shinobi away from you, so that’s good, but I’m not allowed to go outside the village anymore. That’s why I sent Iruka-sensei. Sorry for the surprise.

It’s probably safe for you to stay where you are, but I won’t be able to help you anymore. If you decide to stay there, I’ll ask Iruka-sensei to bring you food once in a while.

Kakashi chews on the inside of his cheek. That plan could work for a while, but it won’t work forever. Academy teachers aren’t just any chuunin; they’re smart. It’s only a matter of time before Iruka figures out who “Dog-san” is. Keeping him in the dark would use up far too much energy and chakra. Hell, successfully making anyone think Kakashi is an actual dog for longer than five minutes would be dangerous and exhausting.

But even if nobody found out who he is, he still wouldn’t feel comfortable staying here. Hiruzen knows he’s here and Kakashi can’t know for certain that he won’t use that information against him eventually.

Naruto must’ve considered the same things – his note continues:

I tried to think of some plans that would allow me to help you again (safely), but I couldn’t think of much. Maybe you could hide in my apartment? It’s pretty safe: I don’t have any visitors or direct neighbors, and I’ve set a lot of traps around the place to make sure nobody mean can get in.

Well, that certainly raises some horrifying questions.

Getting to my apartment would be risky, though. It’s not very far, but you’ll have to sneak around a lot of people. But you’re smarter than me; maybe you can think of a way to make it less risky.

You could also just leave and hide somewhere else. If you do that, I probably won’t see you anymore.

…I was going to write “goodbye” here, but I kinda hope it’s not.

- Naruto

Almost like an afterthought, Naruto has added his address at the bottom of the note. Maybe it’s Kakashi’s imagination, but it almost seems like the kid expects Kakashi not to need his address. Like he’s assuming he’ll just leave.

With a sigh, Kakashi puts the note down. He has much to think about, and such a bad headache. He presses his palm against the space between his eyes.

Whatever he decides, one thing is clear: he cannot leave Naruto behind. Leaving by himself is not an option. And staying here is also kind of not an option – it could be a week before the antibiotics start working, if they start working, and it’ll be even longer before he’s well enough to face the risks of his normal life again. Staying here all of that time is a gamble he doesn’t really like taking.

All things considered… Maybe Naruto’s apartment could be a less dangerous place to stay than the forest has become. They’ll have to take a lot of precautions, though. He’s hidden himself in Hidden Villages before, but he was always alone and healthy. Even then, being a missing-nin in a Hidden Village is an endeavor with a high probability of ending in chaos – chaos that he really wants to keep Naruto out of.

But Konoha is a village he knows, and Hiruzen is a Kage he knows, and Kakashi thinks that if he prepares this well enough, it could work.

Kakashi wraps the blanket around his shoulders and settles into a cross-legged sitting position so that he can write in the dirt on the ground with his finger. He has a lot of plans to think up, a lot of worst-case scenarios to mull over.

Tomorrow, he will leave this hiding spot for the first time in almost two weeks.

Chapter Text

Kakashi aims to reach Konoha by six in the morning. He wakes up much earlier than that, woken by the sound of thunder, after a grand total of four hours of sleep.

Groggily, he stares at the ceiling for a bit, debating going back to sleep, before deciding he’s slept enough and pushing himself up on his elbows. Rising early gives him some more time to prepare, and on days like these, over-preparing is impossible.

He eats some rice and egg for breakfast – a cold and bland meal, but he welcomes it regardless – and takes his meds. He does not feel awake yet, but he doesn’t waste energy on forcing himself awake. Each bit of energy he can spare now is energy he can use later.

As he waits for the fever meds to kick in, he seals all of the stuff in the room – including his backpack – into a scroll. It costs a bit of chakra, but the result is worth it: he’d much rather carry a scroll than a heavy backpack. He remembers how much pressure the backpack put on his side, and how much that hurt.

He takes his time warming up his stiff muscles; stretching his legs, rolling his shoulders, digging his thumb into the knots on either side of his spine. His back especially is far more sore than he’d realized. Spending two weeks bedridden is an experience he’s familiar with, but it seems that spending two weeks lying on the ground is another thing entirely.

He’s starting to properly feel awake at this point, and with the wakefulness comes anxiety. His brain insists on running each and every risk of what he’s about to do by him again, each flaw in his plan. Last time he tried to enter Konoha, he ran into two jounin, got stabbed and almost died as a result. There’s a significant chance that something like that will happen again today – and this time, he has the disadvantage of being in even worse physical condition.

Exasperated, Kakashi closes his eyes and sits in the middle of the empty room for a moment, trying to calm the rising wave of adrenaline. Sure, he’s about to waltz directly into dangerous territory while he’s in terrible shape, again – but the reason why that didn’t work last time, was because he’d overestimated himself. He denied that he was sick, and he insisted on trying to enter Konoha the way he always did, even though he was far too weak for that.

This time, he won’t make those same mistakes. This time, his plan is built with his current weaknesses in mind. There are still risks, of course – no plan survives contact with the enemy, after all – but he’s at least being realistic. He knows he won’t be able to fight or run or maintain a jutsu for very long. The fact that he can’t breathe well and hasn’t moved in weeks, combined with the pain in his side and the lingering chakra exhaustion, will make him slow. The broken wrist will make it hard to sign quickly, and the fever will make it hard to think fast. He can’t force those weaknesses to disappear, but he can try to work around them.

He’s taken the time to prepare. In theory, this shouldn’t end as badly as last time. He’s ready. He’s ready to set his plan into motion.

With careful, slow movements, he folds his hands into the signs for a henge. Normally when he visits Konoha, he transforms into some nondescript civilian – but that might be too risky now, since the shinobi are trying to find out who killed their jounin and would probably be suspicious of a civilian they don’t know. He needs to transform into someone they already trust.

Thankfully, Kakashi has recently copied a Konoha shinobi’s face with his Sharingan: Naruto’s Iruka-sensei would make a pretty good disguise. The greatest risk would be running into Iruka himself, but since he’s an Academy teacher, he likely wouldn’t be on duty this early in the morning.

The henge doesn’t take up much chakra; the more you change about your body, the more chakra it costs, but Iruka is roughly the same height and body shape as Kakashi. His chakra signature is different, though, which could be a problem if Kakashi runs into someone who knows Iruka and who is able to sense chakra.

Trying to imitate Iruka’s chakra signature during the whole walk to Konoha would be dangerously tiring. Kakashi decides to only hide his own chakra signature instead. If someone actually gets nearby enough to sense the lack of chakra, he can still put effort into imitating Iruka’s chakra signature then.

He sighs and opens his eye. He should get going, before he loses his nerve.

It’s easier than he’d expected to crawl through the tunnel. His side complains and he’s a bit short of breath, but it’s manageable if he takes it slow.

A flash of lightning and the rushing sound of rain greet him at the top of the tunnel, and he pauses to catch his breath and to stretch out his senses in search of anyone nearby. There’s no one here, he concludes. Just him.

Finally, he crawls out into the darkness.

The rain hammers down on him. His clothes are soaked in seconds. It’s cold, but he doesn’t mind; the adrenaline and the effort of moving have already left his skin far too warm. He’ll have to make sure he dries his clothes afterwards, though. He learned his lesson after Rain.

He braces his hand on his knee and exhales. Time to get up, carefully. He’s more than familiar with the weakness that comes with spending weeks lying down; he knows to take it easy if he wants to avoid falling over.

Slowly, he pushes himself upright. He knows to expect the headrush; when his vision starts to blur, he braces a hand on a nearby tree and turns to lean his back against it, panting. His legs are trembling and his side is complaining, but at least he’s on his feet.

He stands there for a while, breathing in the cold air through his nose and out through his mouth. He hadn’t realized before how stifling the air had been underground. The fresh air clears his head a little.

He straightens up, letting his shoulders relax. With practiced ease, he lets all signs of visible weakness melt away. He is not Kakashi, missing-nin, who is barely able to stand on his feet and whose side hurts like Hell. He is Iruka, Academy teacher, who is perfectly healthy and who is maybe a little tired from getting up this early to check on Naruto’s dog.

With a confident nod, he bids his hiding spot farewell and sets off towards Konoha.

The storm, as it turns out, is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, the pouring rain washes away his tracks and scent, and the near-deafening claps of thunder offer a much-needed cover for his coughing fits. On the other hand, though, his lungs pretty quickly decide that they do not like all of this moisture in the air, and his brain pretty quickly decides that it does not like all of the noise that’s happening around him, and his feet keep slipping in the mud. He keeps his breaths slow and his steps heavy, and he stands still as often as he dares to wipe his hair out of his face and rub his aching head.

Distantly, he’s glad he knows these woods. He knows exactly where he is at any given moment, and how much farther it is to Naruto’s apartment. He knows that Konoha’s wall is the halfway point; from there, he’ll only need to walk around the outside of the village to the front gate, and from the gate, it’s only a few minutes to the kid’s apartment. He keeps his gaze on the wall with every flash of lightning.

He’s almost made it to the wall when a wave of lightheadedness comes over him. It’s nothing new, and it’s nothing he can’t handle – but it makes his focus waver, and his foot slips out from underneath him. The next moment, he’s sitting flat on his butt in the mud.

The impact jolts the wound in his side; the pain makes the rattling of the rain sound suddenly distant. Kakashi curls his hand into a tight fist, trying to shake off the daze. His vision won’t quite focus and it’s freaking him out.

He’s still busy trying to ground himself when he spots something out of the corner of his eye. It’s immediately gone again, and it’s tempting to think that he imagined it, but Kakashi knows his instincts better than that. Carefully, he releases his best imitation of Iruka’s chakra signature; if whoever that was comes nearby enough, they’ll sense it. The strain on his chakra makes his limbs feel a bit numb.

Lightning flashes. Kakashi squints, trying to catch another glimpse of what he just saw.

It’s a Konoha ANBU mask, staring down at him from the trees above.

He clamps down on his panic, keeping his shoulders relaxed. He’s Iruka, he reminds himself. He’s Iruka, Academy teacher. ANBU don’t usually interact much with other Konoha shinobi. If he’s lucky, the ANBU will just continue on their way.

The ANBU shifts a bit, seeming out of their element now that they’ve been spotted. To Kakashi’s horror, they then hop down to the ground and walk towards him. Their body language is cautious, though ANBU tend to be cautious about everything.

“That was a nasty fall,” a woman’s voice says from behind the mask. “You okay?”

Despite everything, Kakashi manages a convincing embarrassed laugh. “Uh, yeah, I’m all right,” he replies, forcing everything he’s observed about Iruka to the front of his mind. “Thanks for your concern, ANBU-san.”

The ANBU gives a non-committal hum and steps closer, holding out her hand. Kakashi takes it and lets her pull him upright, because rejecting the polite gesture would just make him look suspicious.

He’s already on his feet when he realizes he made a mistake.

He was not ready to get up yet.

His vision dims immediately, the rushing of the rain fading. His knees buckle underneath his weight. Damn it, he’s overestimated himself again-- He’s made the same damn mistake as before--

He can feel his consciousness slipping. Pure willpower and nothing else keeps him from passing out immediately.

In the struggle, his control over his chakra loosens.

The henge stays.

The fake chakra signature does not.

Next thing he knows, he’s throwing himself backwards to dodge a Water ninjutsu. Somehow, he has the clarity of mind to roll across his shoulder when he lands, ending in a crouch instead of on his back. His side hurts. His vision won’t focus. He shoves it all to the back of his mind.

Another Water ninjutsu – another blade made of rainwater, broad like a sword – rushes diagonally towards his face. He jerks his head to the side just in time. The water misses his ear by a hair’s breadth.

His left hand has grabbed a kunai by now, just in time to block the ANBU’s tantou. She’s hurled herself at him, using her ninjutsu as a cover.

They stand face to face now, both straining against each other’s blades. A flash of lightning illuminates the ANBU’s eyes, behind her mask. She’s staring into Kakashi’s eyes, defiant.

She’s staring into Kakashi’s eyes.

She doesn’t know about the Sharingan.

Kakashi has put her under genjutsu before the flash of lightning has ended.

He loses his balance with the sudden drain on his chakra, and drops backwards into the cold mud. The ANBU stares at him blankly for a moment, then puts away her tantou, turns around and leaves.

Kakashi lowers his head to the ground, his chest heaving and his left eye throbbing sharply. He’s dizzy and his entire body hurts, but he could genuinely cry from relief. For a moment there, he’d been terrified he was going to die. It’s an unfamiliar feeling; apparently, he dislikes the idea of leaving Naruto by himself so much that his brain has invented a new emotion for it.

He pushes his relief to the back of his mind; he has no use for it, not yet. He’s not in Konoha yet. He could still run into trouble on the way there.

…With that in mind, he should probably catch his breath before he continues.

He applies a quick chakra-concealing seal to a nearby tree and hides himself in the undergrowth for a while, letting go of the tight control he’d held over his chakra. The fight – however short it was – took more out of him than he’d initially realized, and it takes some time before he no longer feels like he’s on the verge of passing out. The nauseating pain around his left eye stays, as does the throbbing in his side, but he should be able to handle that. It’s not very much farther to Naruto’s apartment. He can push the pain to the back of his mind for a bit longer.

As soon as he feels somewhat confident in his ability to stay upright, he transforms into Iruka again and continues on his way. His legs feel numb, but he keeps his balance by bracing his hand against the wall. He feels like crap, but it could be worse. This was never going to be easy. He knew that beforehand.

The front gate comes into view sooner than he’d expected, and he realizes that he’s been zoning out for the past ten minutes. Out of sight, he pauses to catch his breath. This is either going to be the easiest or the hardest part of today, and it all depends on his ability to focus.

If the guards believe he’s Iruka, they’ll just let him walk in. If they don’t, well… either he’ll be killed on sight, or he’ll be arrested, at which point he’d be at Hiruzen’s mercy. Judging by what Naruto said, Hiruzen wants him alive, but Kakashi isn’t sure whether he trusts that enough to risk it.

He takes a breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He knows this village, and that will help him. He knows the guards’ night shift ended a little while ago. If he can convince the day shift that Iruka went out to the forest about an hour earlier, they’d probably assume the night shift saw him leave and just didn’t report it – which is a perfectly reasonable assumption to make, since it’s early in the morning, it was the end of their shift and it wasn’t crucial to report that one of their own shinobi had gone outside.

He knows this village. He has a plan. He uses henge all the time.

Quickly, he releases his imitation of Iruka’s chakra signature and walks towards the gate.

Two guards are sitting in the small building off to the side of the gate, chatting with each other. They’re not really paying attention – for a moment, Kakashi thinks they’re just going to let him walk in, but then, one of the guards looks over and spots him.

“Morning, Iruka,” he says around a yawn. “What’re you up so early for?”

“Are they making Academy teachers do patrols now, too?” the other guard asks. “That’s brutal.”

They know Iruka, then. Possibly, they’re friends – the guards seem around Iruka’s age, so they might’ve even been Academy classmates. The familiarity makes Kakashi’s heart skip an anxious beat, but he doesn’t let it show.

 “Ah, no, no patrols for me,” Kakashi replies easily, walking over to duck underneath the roof of the building and lean his hip against the wall. “One of my students asked me to take care of something, and I wanted to get it done before school.”

The guards raise their eyebrows. “Was it Naruto?” one of them asks. At Kakashi’s wary nod, he muses: “Guess that makes sense – we’re under orders to keep him inside the village right now. We’ve been so curious about what he was doing in the woods.”

“It’s probably just some sort of mischief,” the other guard says with an indifferent wave of his hand. “Since the Hokage stepped in, it’s probably pretty serious mischief, too. Just be careful the kid doesn’t drag you into his trouble, Iruka.”

Hot fury rises in Kakashi’s chest, so intense it briefly blurs his vision. When he speaks, his tone is clipped.

“He’s been taking care of a stray dog for the past weeks,” he replies, “and he’s been risking his safety and his financial stability to do so. The Hokage simply thought it was too dangerous. If Naruto hadn’t asked me for help, the dog would’ve died.”

Kakashi has no idea whether Iruka would defend his student like that. He hopes he would, both for the sake of Kakashi’s disguise and for Naruto’s sake.

He has startled the guards into shutting up, though, so at least his minor outburst was effective in that sense. He clears his throat. “I’m going back to sleep for another hour,” he says, stepping back into the rain. “I’ll see you later.”

The guards murmur goodbyes as well, and they let Kakashi walk into the village.

The relief makes his head feel like it’s filled with static; he makes his way to Naruto’s apartment building in a daze. When he’s able to focus again, he’s on the top floor of the apartment building, standing in front of a door. Naruto’s door.

He knocks.

The long silence that follows makes his stomach feel cold with dread, but then, he hears footsteps shuffle up to the door. Kakashi rests his gaze on the peephole in the door, imagining Naruto standing on his toes to look through it on the other side.

“Iruka-sensei?” he asks, his voice still crackly with sleep. “What’re you doing here?”

Kakashi smiles at him with Iruka’s face. “Not Iruka,” he says. “This is Dog.”

There’s a long pause. “No way,” Naruto decides.

Kakashi very carefully releases the henge around his left eye – just enough to reveal the Sharingan and wink at Naruto with it.

The door flies open, revealing Naruto, barefoot and in his pajamas. He stares at Kakashi for a moment, his mouth open.

“No way!” he exclaims, and the next moment, he’s clinging to Kakashi in an ecstatic embrace. Kakashi rests his hand on the kid’s head, closing his eyes with a tired relief.

His mind is quiet, he notices, and he finds that that surprises him. Every interaction with Naruto so far had been accompanied by some sort of negative feeling: guilt, sorrow, fear about messing up and getting this kid killed. Right now, though, those feelings are absent. It’s very tempting to find that scary in its own right, but Kakashi doesn’t let himself care about that right now.

He’s sure he’ll find reasons to be anxious again later on. Hiding in the middle of a Hidden Village won’t be without danger. It’s inevitable that he’ll worry about Naruto’s safety, and his own.

But for now, he simply holds Naruto close and appreciates this small victory.

Chapter Text

The two of them stand in the doorway for multiple minutes, neither of them willing to move. Naruto clings to Kakashi like he’ll disappear if he lets go; Kakashi leans his shoulder against the doorframe, too exhausted to properly stay upright but determined not to interrupt the embrace.

His legs are trembling a bit with the effort, and because of that, it takes a while before he realizes that Naruto is trembling, too. He looks down at the top of the kid’s head, alarmed. “Are you crying?”

Naruto buries his face further into Kakashi’s sweater. “No,” he replies, voice cracking. “It’s happy tears, so it doesn’t count.”

Kakashi smiles to himself and ruffles Naruto’s hair. “I’m glad to see you too, kid.”

“Thanks.” He looks up at Kakashi, tears squeezing from his eyes with his smile. “You have no idea how much that means.”

Kakashi thinks he does kind of know how much that means to the kid. The thought makes his heart ache. He doesn’t know how to translate that ache into comforting words, though; he hopes Naruto can read his mind a little, in that sense.

Naruto wipes at his eyes in the silence, apparently already distracted. “All right, that’s enough tears,” he decides, scrubbing his sleeve across his face. “Do you want to come in, Kakashi-san? You kinda look like you’re going to fall over if we keep standing here much longer.”

So the kid can read his mind. Kakashi huffs an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, I-- Yeah. Thanks.”

He takes off his boots – which are covered in mud – at the door, and shuffles barefoot into the apartment. Naruto has run off to make sure the curtains are fully closed; when he gives Kakashi a thumbs-up, Kakashi drops his henge with a relieved sigh.

Naruto critically looks him up and down. “You’re taller than I’d expected.”

Kakashi raises an eyebrow at him, amused. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Just a thing.”

“All right, then.” Holy shit, he’s missed this kid. That realization is just about enough to knock him over right then and there, but he manages to stay on his feet. There’s still stuff he needs to do before he gets to pass out. “Hey,” he says, turning to Naruto, “would you mind helping me out with something? I need to make some seals to hide my chakra signature, but I don’t think I’ll have enough chakra left to make all of them.”

Naruto nods. “I’ll try,” he says tentatively. “I’ve never made a seal before, though.”

“It’s not difficult,” Kakashi reassures him. “I’ll show you. Consider it your first ninjutsu lesson from me; I did promise I’d teach you stuff, remember?”

They grab some sheets of paper and sit down on the floor. Kakashi draws one seal as an example, his left index finger dipped in ink; Naruto meticulously copies every single stroke with a brush, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. It’s hard not to think of Kushina as Kakashi watches him work.

“I think I’m done,” Naruto says, interrupting Kakashi’s thoughts before they have the chance to spiral into something dark. He looks between his and Kakashi’s sheets of paper a couple of times; “Did I do it right?”

“Pretty much. You missed a stroke right there.” It’s a tiny squiggly line; a detail easily overlooked by beginners who haven’t learned how to read a seal yet. Kakashi adds the missing stroke himself. “There. These are done; now, we need to make two more identical seals.”

The last two seals are finished much faster than the first ones, now that Naruto understands what he’s doing. He seems to be getting the hang of it fairly quickly, and Kakashi isn’t surprised; the talent for fuuinjutsu is in his blood, after all. His penmanship is sloppy as Hell, but Kakashi is in no position to criticize that, not when he’s writing with the fingers of his non-dominant hand himself.

When all four seals are finished, Kakashi folds his hands into a sign above one of the sheets of paper. Naruto automatically copies him with his own sheet of paper.

“Have you learned how to focus your chakra on an object yet?” Kakashi asks him. He realizes he genuinely doesn’t know. He graduated the Academy in a single year’s time. He doesn’t have a clue when normal Academy students learn the stuff he learned at age five.

“Uhh…” Naruto gives him a hesitant shrug. Probably not, then.

Kakashi chews on the inside of his cheek, trying to remember how he was taught to focus his chakra. He might’ve not even learned it at the Academy, now that he thinks about it, though the memory has been locked away for so long that he’s not sure whether it’s real or imagined. He thinks that his dad taught him, in the garden, on one of those rare days when they were both home. He thinks that he got it right on his first try and that his dad said he was proud of him, and that Kakashi called him weird over it because he got everything right on his first try. He thinks he can still remember the way his dad laughed at that.

Well, he sure is full of memories today. He feels too tired to be upset about it.

“Do you know how to start a fire with a magnifying glass?” he asks Naruto, drawing in a slow breath. Despite his efforts to ground himself in the present, he finds that his own voice and his dad’s voice overlap in his mind.

Naruto grins at him. “Of course.”

“Just… imagine you’re holding a magnifying glass, and that you’re trying to set the center of your seal on fire.” At Naruto’s nod, he continues: “Imagine the dot of sunlight on the seal. Stare at it really hard, and make sure you keep your hands in the sign. Imagine that soon, your paper will burst into flames.”

“Nothing’s happening,” Naruto says, staring intensely at the paper.

Kakashi remembers saying the same thing himself when he was young. “Be patient. You’ll notice that the seal will disappear gradually--”

The seal does not disappear gradually. The sheet of paper is wiped clean at once.

Every sheet of paper is wiped clean.

Naruto flails, startled, and turns to Kakashi with wide eyes. “Did I screw up?”

“Uhm.” Kakashi lets out an incredulous laugh, immediately launching himself into a coughing fit. “No. As a matter of fact, you did better than I expected.”

“I did?” Naruto sounds genuinely surprised. “Iruka-sensei always says my chakra control sucks.”

“It does, but I’m not surprised you have a hard time controlling your chakra. You do have a lot of it.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. Much more than the average person,” Kakashi affirms with a nod. “It throws off your intuition, so you instinctively used far more chakra than you needed for this jutsu. In some cases, like with these seals, using more chakra will just make your jutsu more effective. We’ll still need to work on your control, though, because it’s not very good for your body to use up a lot of chakra all the time.”

Naruto stares at him, his mouth dropped open. “How do you know all of that?” he exclaims. “And why has nobody else ever told me that stuff?”

“I know because your mother was the same way. She said she struggled with controlling her chakra when she was young, too. The lessons at school didn’t really help her, because her teachers didn’t know how to teach her how to control her chakra. Chakra reserves that large are, uh, kind of rare.”

“Huh,” Naruto says, one corner of his mouth curling up. He seems thoughtful for a moment, but then he shakes himself and grabs the now-blank pieces of paper. “What do we do with these?”

The four seals need to be applied to the outer corners of the apartment, so that they form a rough rectangle. All chakra within that rectangle will be hidden. Naruto and Kakashi split up for efficiency, each with a roll of tape.

In his search for the correct corners, Kakashi takes the chance to look around the apartment a bit. Objectively, it’s a pretty nice apartment, though it’s clear that nobody has offered Naruto any help or advice in maintaining it. The kitchen sink is filled with dirty dishes. The bathroom window is boarded up, broken and never repaired. There are a couple of dark spots along the ceiling that Kakashi thinks might be mold.

He’s still staring at the missing blanket on the bed when Naruto calls that he’s done, and Kakashi quickly shakes himself and finishes taping the last seal to the wall. Finally, he gets to let go of the tight control he’s kept over his chakra. Automatically, he also lets go of the tension in his muscles, lowering himself to the floor with a sigh.

He’s safe here, at least for now. He’s safe.

Naruto pokes his head around the doorway, raising his eyebrows when he sees Kakashi sitting on the floor. “You okay?” he asks, padding over and sitting down as well.

“Yeah. Tired, though. Getting here wasn’t easy.”

Naruto winces. “Sorry you had to come all the way here. If I hadn’t messed up somehow, the Hokage would’ve never found out you were here.”

Kakashi hums thoughtfully. “I doubt he found out because you messed up. I think he just found out. There’s very little that happens in this village--”

“--without him knowing about it, yeah, I know.” Naruto pulls his knees up to his chin. “Still. I’m sorry you had to go through the trouble of getting here.”

“It could’ve been worse. I got here alive and in one piece; my energy is a small price to pay for that.”

“I guess I get that.” Naruto gets up. “You can go to sleep, if you want,” he says. “Take the bed. I’m not tired anymore, anyway.”

As good as that sounds, Kakashi knows he shouldn’t yet. “I should probably wash my clothes first,” he says, plucking at the front of his sweater; it’s soaked with rain and covered in mud. “And I should probably wash myself, too, honestly. Do you mind if I take a shower?” His illness has messed with his sense of smell a lot, but the last time he took a shower was back in Rain so he can imagine that he’s not doing too great on the body odor front. The rain he walked through can’t have washed away two weeks of that.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Naruto agrees easily. “You kinda stink. Really bad.”

“I know, I know. You’ve said that before.” It was one of the first things Naruto had said to his face. “I smell like a corpse, right?”

Naruto’s face flushes red. “I don’t remember saying that,” he replies wisely, and he quickly leaves the subject behind. “Anyway, the shower’s broken, but the bath works. I can wash your clothes in the meantime – I’m an expert at getting dirt out of clothes.”

Kakashi takes a moment to unseal the stuff he’d sealed in his scroll; Naruto takes the blanket so that he can wash it, and Kakashi takes the first-aid kit with him to the bathroom. It takes him more effort than he’d expected to walk there. It seems his body is finally starting to protest against everything he’s done today. Kakashi accepts the wave of exhaustion passively, and he accepts the helping hand Naruto offers when he sways on his feet.

He heavily sits down on the bathroom floor to peel off his rain-soaked clothes. Naruto has left him alone; Kakashi can hear him puttering around on the other side of the apartment.

Kakashi wrestles himself out of his clothes, careful not to jolt his side or let his clothes catch in the splint around his wrist. He leaves the heap of clothes outside the door so that Naruto can grab them.

Bare-faced and in his underwear, he peels off the bandage on his side, which has been loosened in the rain. It’s a small mercy; the last time he changed the bandage, it was stuck to the wound, and it hurt like Hell.

He heaves himself to his feet to examine his wound in the mirror above the sink. It’s the first time he properly looks at himself since he left Rain, and the first thing he notices is that he visibly lost a lot of weight. Logically, it makes sense, considering he almost starved to death and also spent two days unconscious – but it kind of startles him regardless. He’s suddenly really grateful for the weight he’d put on during the more peaceful months he’d had earlier this year. Without those fat reserves, he would’ve probably been dead. He’ll have to build those up again as soon as he gets the chance.

With a shake of his head, he shifts his attention to his wound. It’s his first time seeing it in proper lighting; the stitches are a lot sloppier than he remembered them being, but they manage to keep the wound closed regardless. The skin around the wound is a little red, irritated from today’s journey, but it looks okay otherwise. He’s been healing slowly, though. Which, again, makes sense because his body has been devoting all of its energy to keeping him alive, but it’s annoying anyway.

Well, at least it hasn’t gotten worse. With that reassurance, Kakashi steps away from the mirror and turns on the faucet to fill the bathtub.

He fills the tub about halfway, so that he can sit in it without soaking his wound in water. The water is blissfully warm against his skin; he hadn’t noticed how cold he’d been feeling up until now. He takes his time washing the dirt and dried blood off himself.

He’s washing his hair when there’s a knock at the bathroom door, followed by Naruto’s voice. “Kakashi-san?” he asks. “I’ve got some clothes for you. I’m coming in, I’m not looking.”

He opens the door with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, holding a bundle of blue fabric that Kakashi immediately recognizes as a Konoha jounin uniform.

“I once took these off someone’s clothesline as a joke,” he admits, putting the clothes down on the closed toilet lid, “and then they never came looking for it, so I kinda just kept them. Not sure if they fit, but you can try.”

“Thank you,” Kakashi replies. Naruto gives a polite nod in the wrong direction, his eyes still closed, and leaves the bathroom. He bumps into the doorframe on his way out. Amused, Kakashi watches him fumble the door closed behind himself.

As soon as the door is closed, he gets out of the tub, towels himself off and dresses his wound with fresh gauze. The jounin uniform turns out to be a size too large, which thankfully means that it’s very easy to put on. There’s no mask, but Naruto has given him a scarf to tie around his face. Kakashi appreciates the thoughtfulness in that gesture.

This is his first time wearing a Konoha jounin uniform, he realizes. It’s ironic, in a sense – he was a jounin long before he left Konoha, but he left before he was tall enough to wear the uniform. If he’d stayed, maybe this would’ve been what he’d looked like. He tries not to linger on that thought for too long. This day is already weird enough as is.

It’s starting to get seriously difficult to keep his eye open, so he leaves the bathroom and shuffles back into the apartment, leaning his hand against the wall. He finds Naruto at the kitchen sink, washing Kakashi’s clothes, apparently one by one. Half of the clothes are drying across the backs of the kitchen chairs; the other half has yet to be washed and is lying in a muddy pile on the floor.

Naruto looks up when Kakashi walks in and smiles at him. “Long time no see,” he says. “Do the clothes fit at all?”

“Yeah,” Kakashi says with a nod. “I’m not fully sure that blue is my color, though. What do you think?”

Naruto snorts. “Well, it’s better than dirt-brown,” he says, nodding his head towards the mud-covered unwashed clothes. “That wasn’t your color, either.”

“Hey now, that’s a little mean, don’t you think?” Kakashi replies, mock-hurt, and Naruto snickers. Kakashi lowers himself onto one of the kitchen chairs and leans his elbows heavily on the table. He said he was going to go to sleep, but in a way, he kind of prefers sitting here a bit longer. He came all this way for Naruto; he might as well spend some more time with the kid, even if that time is spent in silence.

The time is not spent in silence; Naruto soon turns to Kakashi with a very bewildered look on his face. “Question for you,” he says, holding up a piece of clothing. “What the crap is this?”

“It’s chainmail,” Kakashi replies drily. He’d been wearing it underneath his sweater.

“Yeah, no, I know that,” Naruto shoots back. “I meant this.” He puts his hand through the hole in the side of the chainmail. “There’s a hole in it! How?”

Kakashi gives him an amused look back. “Did you think the stab wound in my side just appeared there out of thin air?”

“Well, no, but-- It’s chainmail! Did you get stabbed through chainmail? Isn’t chainmail supposed to keep you from getting stabbed?”

“You know, I agree with you there,” Kakashi replies easily, and he makes a mental note to introduce Naruto to the dangers of strength-enhanced attacks later.

Naruto shakes his head. “You’ve got to be the unluckiest bastard on the entire planet,” he mutters, returning to his task, and Kakashi barks a laugh that leaves him breathless.

Naruto finishes up washing the clothes, and then he bullies Kakashi into lying down. Kakashi gives in; he’s started having trouble keeping his head upright, and his entire body feels heavy. He doesn’t realize until he lies down on the mattress that his head is swimming. Yeah, it’s probably for the best if he lets himself go to sleep soon.

He props the pillow behind his back, lying half upright because it’s easier to breathe that way. Naruto apologizes for the fact that there’s no blanket. Kakashi doesn’t mind. The uniform is warm enough.

As his eye falls shut, he’s quite suddenly overwhelmed by gratefulness. He’s safe, clean, warm and not dead, all thanks to Naruto. And that’s not all: although he’s too tired to properly examine the thought, he thinks he’s been feeling less… stuck, he supposes, since he met the kid. He’d locked away so many parts of himself because they were too painful to even think about – it seemed easier to never care about anyone again and to never think about the past again and to only ever plan ahead for the next week or so. He’d thought those parts would stay locked up forever, and he was okay with that.

…He’s not okay with that anymore, because of Naruto. And it’s terrifying. But he’s willing to bear that terror, and he’s willing to bear it for the rest of his life if he has to – because he is not willing to leave Naruto behind in this village that hates him.

He thinks he’s made a decision, actually.

“Hey,” he murmurs, cracking his eye open to look at Naruto, who is sitting at the foot of the bed, staring at his homework. “Remember what you said earlier? About me being the unluckiest bastard on the planet?”

Naruto looks up. “What about it?”

“I don’t think you’re right about that. I’ve been pretty damn lucky lately.”

Naruto huffs a laugh. “Yeah? In what way?”

He sounds like he genuinely doesn’t realize. Kakashi shakes his head in disbelief. “Kid,” he says. “If you hadn’t stumbled across me when you did-- If you hadn’t decided to help me, I would’ve been dead ten times over.” Is that the first time he’s acknowledged that out loud? He realizes with a stab of guilt that it probably is. “Thank you.”

Naruto’s eyes widen, and then he grins at Kakashi, bright as the sun. “No problem.”

“I’m glad I got to meet you, Naruto.”

The kid’s smile has taken on a shaky edge. “You’re kinda talking like you’re going to die.”

Kakashi shakes his head. “I’m-- No. I was trying to say that I’m going to live.” It makes sense in his head, but Naruto is giving him a puzzled look, so he clarifies: “I’ve… decided that I’m willing to take you with me when I leave.”

Naruto is clinging to him again, burying his face in Kakashi’s shoulder.

“But,” he says, patting Naruto on the back, “I also want you to make an informed decision about it. Because leaving your village isn’t going to be as easy as you think it is. So I’m going to tell you all the worst parts about leaving your village, and then I’m going to tell you the best parts, and then we can figure out how to keep you safe out there, and then I’ll let you decide whether you still want to leave.”

Naruto nods against his shoulder. “Okay. Thank you. So much.”

They sit there a while longer, before Naruto sits up and wipes at his eyes. Kakashi gives him a sympathetic smile. “What a morning, huh?”

“You can say that again.” Naruto gives a watery laugh. “Man, I really don’t want to go to school today.” At Kakashi’s hesitant look, he continues: “I’m serious! I think it’s better if I stay here. I think I might be getting sick, too.” He coughs in a way that sounds disturbingly similar to the real thing.

Kakashi narrows his eye at him, and Naruto smirks at him. “Please don’t joke about that,” Kakashi sighs, exasperated. “You actually had me worried for a second there.”

Naruto’s smirk widens. “It’s probably realistic enough to convince Iruka-sensei, then, if he asks,” he decides. “Not that he’ll come by to ask. He doesn’t care that much.”

Kakashi gives him another stern look, then sighs. “Fine. But I will give you homework, then. If you want to come with me, there’s a lot you’ll have to learn in a short amount of time.” And even if he doesn’t come with Kakashi, it would be good if he learned those skills anyway.

Naruto gives him a grin that’s equal parts nervous and excited. “I’ll do my best,” he replies. “What do you want me to do?”

“Go to the library, and find a book about henge for genin. You’re going to read it and write down all the questions you have. It’ll probably be a bit advanced for you, since you’re still an Academy student, but I’ll help you with the stuff you don’t understand.”

Naruto nods. “Okay.”

“And I’ll need every book about hiding chakra that you can find. The more complicated, the better.” It’d be a ridiculous task to teach Naruto how to hide his massive chakra signature in a week’s time, if they even have that long, so Kakashi will have to look into alternate possibilities. “We’ll discuss specific plans when I’ve rested a bit.”

It’s terrifying, all of this. It’s terrifying to see the hope in Naruto’s eyes. It’s terrifying to realize that that same hope has made its home in Kakashi’s own heart.

But there’s peace in the fact that his decision has been made. Now, it’s up to Naruto to decide what their future is going to look like.

The sudden silence in Kakashi’s brain makes him suddenly lightheaded, and he closes his eye. He’ll pass out soon, he knows.

He falls asleep to the sound of Naruto’s “have a nice nap, Kakashi-san”, and with a sense of peace he hasn’t felt in decades.

Chapter Text

As soon as the rain has stopped, Naruto grabs his backpack and heads towards the library. He runs all the way there; his brain literally won’t let him walk slowly. He’s jittery with energy and he has to use that energy for something, otherwise he’ll explode.

Kakashi wants to take him with him. It almost doesn’t feel real. Naruto will have to ask him again when he wakes up, just to confirm that he actually said that. Is he sure he wants Naruto around? Is he really sure? Is he really really sure?

Will he still be sure when he realizes how bad Naruto is at ninjutsu? And at lying? Iruka-sensei once said he wouldn’t trust Naruto to take on an undercover mission, or any type of mission. Pretending not to be a missing-nin sounds like an undercover mission, but harder and more dangerous. What if Naruto just sucks at it?

Well, worrying about it won’t solve anything, he tells himself sternly. He’ll just have to study like crazy.

He tightens his hands around the straps of his backpack, feet splashing in puddles as he sprints through a busy street. He almost bumps into a couple of people; someone snaps at him to watch out, but he finds that it doesn’t sting like it normally would. Pretty soon, he’ll never have to see any of these people again. He’s going to disappear and never come back, so it doesn’t matter what they think of him.

They’d probably be happy about him leaving, too. That idea does sting, a little. He doesn’t care about the opinion of some passerby on the street, but it’d be kind of sad if nobody missed him at all. Will Teuchi and Ayame think of him from time to time? Will his classmates – the ones that aren’t annoying – give a damn that he’s gone? Will Iruka-sensei? Or the Hokage? Or will they just be glad to be rid of him?

The library is within sight now, and the thoughts dissipate when he tries to remember where he put the list of books he’s supposed to get. He finds it in the pocket of his jacket. Holding the list in his hand, he steps into the library. The librarian raises an eyebrow at him and looks pointedly at his sandals; Naruto quickly backtracks to wipe the mud off his shoes, and the librarian’s disapproving look disappears after that.

There aren’t any other people within sight, though Naruto can hear a couple of voices whispering in the back. One of them is talking pretty loudly – he’s about to get an earful from the librarian for sure. Naruto makes sure to steer clear of them, before he’s caught in the crossfire and gets yelled at too.

He goes over to the section about chakra first, because it’s the farthest away from the group. Kakashi asked for “every book about chakra he could find”, “the more complicated, the better”. Naruto takes one look at the bookshelves and decides that all of these books are complicated; he can’t read most of the titles. It’ll take a while to figure out which books will be useful to Kakashi.

With a sigh, Naruto dumps the most complicated-looking books onto a table and flips through them one by one. If he can vaguely understand what the book says, it’s probably not complicated enough for Kakashi. If he doesn’t have the slightest clue what the book is about, then it’s good.

He’s about halfway through when the loud whispering on the other side of the library becomes loud normal-talking – something about how you can only work hard if you like the goal you’re working towards – and the librarian walks over to scold the guy. Naruto listens, grinning to himself. It’s kind of rare that someone else gets in trouble, instead of Naruto himself.

There’s some snickering in the group as the librarian walks away again. “Told you so, sensei,” one of them teases, and the guy who was talking loudly makes a bit of a defeated noise. Maybe the group is a genin team? At the very least, Academy teachers wouldn’t be okay with being teased like that, so this guy must be some other kind of sensei.

Naruto shakes his head and returns his attention to the books. It doesn’t matter who those people are. He’ll probably never see them again after this.

He finishes up sorting the books by their usefulness, and he returns the least useful books to the shelves. By then, the group still hasn’t left, and they’re sitting smack in the middle of the section for genin, where Naruto needs to be. Naruto eventually decides not to wait it out, and he resigns himself to the task of dealing with people.

Surprisingly, the group greets him politely – once again loudly, but politely – as he walks by, and leaves him alone otherwise. Naruto’s assumption about them being a genin team seems mostly correct; there’s three kids and one adult, and the kids are a couple of years older than Naruto is. One of the kids is wearing a Konoha uniform, though, so she must already be a chuunin.

As he looks for the books about henge, Naruto watches the team from the corner of his eye, both out of habit and out of curiosity. He doesn’t see genin teams very often, but the ones he does see always have an undeniable air of coolness about them. They’re skilled enough to graduate from the Academy and to survive their first few missions, and that changes something in their vibe somehow. They carry themselves like they know they should be looked up to.

This team… does not have that air of coolness at all.

One of the genin is doing one-handed push-ups on the floor; the other genin is sitting at a table. Both of them are intently looking up at their teacher, who is still in the middle of his whispered speech. The chuunin is reading right next to them, in the middle of a mountain of books, completely stone-faced, her glasses slowly slipping down her nose. Judging by the fact that her teammates aren’t distracting her at all, this must be a regular occurrence.

It’s their teacher that draws Naruto’s attention the most. Naruto might’ve found him cool, if he wasn’t so distracted by the guy’s eyebrows and blindingly-green clothes.

Naruto is still staring, trying to figure out what the Hell to make of this, when the teacher notices him looking. Naruto automatically flinches back underneath his gaze, but the teacher only gives him a blinding grin.

“Hello there,” he says, and he has such a booming voice that Naruto has to do his best not to flinch back further. “Did my words inspire you, young man? You’re welcome to sit and listen.”

Naruto is already looking for the nearest exit. “Uhm.” He has no idea what to say to that. “I wasn’t, uh…”

“Don’t let him intimidate you, kid,” one of the genin says – she doesn’t stop doing her push-ups. “Gai-sensei is just being intense because we’re trying to choose our jutsu specialties, and he’s trying to catch us up on all the preparation the Academy should’ve taught us.”

“He doesn’t want us to pick something that’ll make us unhappy,” the other genin adds. The chuunin just keeps reading. It seems she’s already picked her specialty; from up close, Naruto can see that all of her books are about medical ninjutsu.

“Exactly,” Gai-sensei agrees with the genin. “It’s never too early to learn about the importance of mental health for shinobi. If you’d like to join in, please do.”

Naruto somehow feels like he’s being mocked, but the guy seems so sincere – he has no idea what kind of answer he’s expecting. Naruto picks the safe option and tries to get himself out of this conversation as quickly as possible. “I think I’ve already mastered the art of not doing stuff that makes me unhappy, thank you very much,” he says. “Anyway, I don’t have time. My teacher sent me to get some books for him, so I’ll be going back to the Academy as quickly as possible.”

Gai thankfully seems to believe him, or at least he’s perceptive enough to see that he doesn’t want to talk. “Very well!” he says. “May I give you just one piece of advice?”

Naruto shifts on his feet. “Uh, sure.”

“It is very difficult to see the difference between choices that will make you happy for a short period of time, and choices that will make you happy for longer,” Gai says, “especially when you’re as young as you are. Try to make choices that will make you happy in the long run, would you?”

“I’ll… try?” Naruto says, and Gai nods approvingly, and Naruto grabs his books and gets the Hell out of there.

He sits on the library’s roof for a while after that, to try and wrap his head around what just happened. He’s not really the type to reflect a lot, but Gai’s advice is stuck in his brain the way popcorn kernels get stuck in teeth. He stares out at his village, at the familiar rooftops, the busy street, the faraway Hokage Rock with his dad’s face on it.

“Make choices that will make you happy in the long run…” Will leaving Konoha make him happy for a short time, or for a long time? Will it be better than staying, or does it only seem that way? He was wondering whether Konoha would miss him if he left – would he miss Konoha? He’s not happy here now, but is there a chance he could be eventually? Is there a chance he could find his place in this village, where the Hokage lies to him and almost everybody hates him? Is there a chance they could forgive him for whatever it is that he did? Could he forgive them?

He doesn’t have any answers to that, so he heaves himself to his feet and dusts off his pants. There are a lot of things he doesn’t know, but Kakashi said he would help him put together the pros and the cons of leaving. For the first time, Naruto sort of understands why Kakashi insisted on having that conversation.

With that, he grabs his library books and gets down from the rooftop.

Chapter Text

Kakashi is woken up by the clicking of the front door’s lock, followed by a thump and Naruto hissing “oh, crap, that’s loud”. Groggily, he cracks his eye open, just in time to see Naruto poke his head around the doorway.

Naruto laughs nervously. “Sorry, did I wake you up?” he asks. “I got the books you wanted, but they’re kind of heavy. I dropped the bag by accident.” He holds up a plastic bag with both hands. Judging by the way he’s leaning backwards, his backpack is filled with books as well.

“It’s okay. Thanks for-- getting the books.” Kakashi yawns in the middle of his sentence, his eyes squeezing shut. It doesn’t seem like his nap helped his tiredness. Every muscle in his body is sore, and the throbbing behind his left eye has turned into a fierce headache. He’d been on his feet for barely an hour this morning, but it feels like he just fought an army.

As though reading his mind – again – Naruto rummages around in the bag. “Also, I figured these would come in handy,” he says, holding up a box of painkillers. “And I got more tea, ‘cause I ran out. And I got more ramen. The fancy kind.” He grins and tosses the painkillers at Kakashi. “The things you can do with a better allowance, am I right?”

“You’re a saint, kid,” Kakashi says, catching the painkillers. “Hang on, I’ll pay you back.” He hadn’t had the chance to think about it much, but Naruto’s been spending quite a bit of money just to keep him alive. The painkillers, the food, the medicine – Kakashi does some quick math in his head and instantly feels guilty.

He rolls onto his side to reach for his backpack, which is lying underneath the bed, and unseals one of the side pockets with his chakra.

“Ah, no, you really don’t have to,” Naruto tries, but Kakashi is already holding the money out to him. At Kakashi’s unimpressed stare, Naruto hesitantly takes the money and pockets it. “Thanks.”

“You should make a habit of counting the money you receive,” Kakashi says, lying back down. “The world is full of people who’ll try to take advantage of you.” He gave the kid too much money, but that’s beside the point.

Naruto sticks his tongue out at him. “I don’t want to make a habit of being suspicious of people I trust.” He sets his backpack down on the floor and sits down at the end of the bed. “Anyway,” he says, “you said you wanted to talk when you’d slept a bit. Are you feeling up to it or do you want to go back to sleep?”

It sounds tempting to sleep some more, but unfortunately, Kakashi gets the impression that he would’ve felt just as tired after twenty hours of sleep as he feels after two. He shrugs. “We can talk,” he says. “Though it’s probably for the best if we wait for the painkillers to kick in first, okay?”

They pass the time by eating the food that Iruka gave “Dog-san”, and by going over the books Naruto brought. He picked out a simple book about henge that should have enough information for now, and he found a bunch of books about different techniques to hide chakra. The information in most of those books is already familiar to Kakashi, but there’s a handful of books that look interesting. One of the books isn’t about chakra at all, but about seals, and Naruto sheepishly admits he brought it because it was in the section about chakra and he thought the title looked complicated. Someone else in the library must’ve put it back in the wrong section by mistake.

Naruto dangles his legs over the edge of the bed as Kakashi examines the books, chewing on some chicken. “I had a really weird conversation with some stranger in the library,” he says, mouth full.

Kakashi looks up from the book he’s flipping through. “Did they seem onto you?”

“Nah, not that kind of weird conversation. Just… weird.” Naruto swallows his chicken and picks at his front teeth with his fingernail. “He told me to make choices that’ll make me happy in the long run, instead of doing stuff that’ll only make me happy for a little while. I guess it was some sort of don’t-be-impulsive-or-you’ll-regret-it lecture.”

Kakashi hums. “I agree,” he says. “You shouldn’t be impulsive.”

“Well, yeah, I get that,” Naruto retorts. “But how do I know whether I should leave or stay here? How do I know which is the right choice?”

“You don’t.” Kakashi closes his book. “It’s complicated to choose between leaving and staying. It was complicated for me as well, and I was four years older than you are. I’m still not fully sure I made the right choice. All I know is that staying in Konoha would’ve killed me. That made the decision easier.” He gives Naruto a wry look. “But for you, it’s more difficult. And I’m afraid I’m about to make the whole thing even more difficult for you. I said before that leaving wouldn’t be as easy as you thought it’d be-- I should explain what I meant by that.”

He should explain why Konoha won’t let him go like they let Kakashi go. Why Naruto is more valuable to them than Kakashi was. Kakashi doesn’t even know if the kid will believe him when he tells him that.

Naruto just nods at him expectantly, and Kakashi looks down at his lap, trying to figure out where to start. There’s so much Naruto doesn’t know. He’ll have to start this story at the very beginning.

“When you were a baby,” Kakashi says eventually, “you had a seal on your stomach. You still have it, don’t you?”

Naruto nods. “Yeah.”

“Did anyone ever explain to you what it was for?” Kakashi asks. He’s sort of hoping the kid will say “yes” – Naruto didn’t know what a Jinchuuriki was when Kakashi had used the word before, but maybe the long word was just confusing him. The kid did have a concussion at that point, after all.

Naruto shakes his head. “Nope,” he says. “I’m assuming that you’re about to explain it to me?”

“Assumption correct,” Kakashi replies – his tone is lighthearted in a reflexive attempt at hiding the shaking in his voice. Neither of them is going to like this conversation. “You may want to brace yourself for what I’m about to tell you. It’s going to be a lot to process.”

Naruto physically braces himself, digging his heels into the floor and clenching his hands around the corner of the mattress, and Kakashi laughs involuntarily but he can’t manage to keep his nervousness out of the sound.

“So... I don’t know the story from start to finish. I’ll tell you what I know, though.” He finds himself physically bracing himself as well – he’ll really have to revisit his memories of that night again. He’d prepared himself for the possibility. It sucks regardless. “I know that ten years ago, on the night you were born, Konoha was attacked by the Nine-Tailed Fox.”

A grimace pulls at his mouth. He’s there again, underneath that full moon, his feet carrying him desperately towards his sensei and Kushina and his senses filled with the Nine-Tails’ oppressive chakra signature. He’d made the mistake of following orders at first, of retreating with the other young shinobi like he was told, instead of running straight towards his sensei and Kushina immediately. He was already blaming himself for that then, before he knew he was too late.

Naruto hums thoughtfully, and it pulls Kakashi back to the present a little but not entirely. “I know a little bit about the Nine-Tails,” he says. “I know the bastard killed my parents.” He sounds quietly bitter, and Kakashi feels something clench around his heart. Naruto isn’t going to like where this story is going.

Kakashi unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth; his mouth is suddenly dry. “It did,” he says softly. “But before it killed them, your parents managed to seal the Nine-Tails away. They saved Konoha.”

He’s back on that field, the stench of blood in the air and bile rising in his throat. He swallows against the phantom sensation, blinks against the images behind his eyes.

While he’s busy composing himself, Naruto is staring at him, his expression complicated. “You asked about the seal on my stomach,” he starts, his voice flat with shock. “Did they--”

“Yes. Yes, they did.”

“Oh.” Naruto digs his fingernails into the edge of the mattress. His knees are shaking.

Kakashi tries hard not to start shaking himself. “I’m sorry--”

“Don’t say anything.” Naruto is staring down at his legs. “Sorry, I can’t-- I need--” He draws in a trembling breath. “I need to figure out a way to make sense of this. Just-- give me a minute.”

“Okay,” Kakashi says quietly. “Do you… want some tea?” He needs to find something to do, something that’ll get him out of his own head. He needs to stop focusing on the hurt of the past; there’s more than enough hurt sitting right in front of him.

Naruto’s chin dips down in an almost-unnoticeable nod. With a soft reminder of “deep breaths, okay?”, Kakashi heaves himself up on unsteady legs to limp over to the kitchen. He leans against the kitchen counter as he waits for the water to boil, resting his forehead against the cabinets, out of breath.

He’s doing this all wrong, he fears. Naruto needs to know the truth in order to make an informed decision about whether to leave or stay, but the way this is going, the kid will make a decision based on his emotions. Kakashi doesn’t know if that’s a good thing. He wishes he knew how to calm Naruto down, but he barely knows how to calm himself down. His chest hurts and he wishes it didn’t.

He’s managed to slow his heartrate down to a somewhat-reasonable speed when the kettle whistles, and he plants his feet firmly in the present and picks up the kettle to pour the tea. He turns around to see Naruto shuffle into the kitchen, quietly taking a seat at the kitchen table. His eyes are red-rimmed.

“I have a question,” Naruto whispers, his shoulders pulled up to his ears.

Kakashi sets the kettle down and leans against the counter. “What is it?”

“The stuff you just told me…” Naruto balls his fists in the front of his jacket, like he’s afraid to finish his sentence. “Is that… Is that why they hate me? Because of the Nine-Tails?”

The question doesn’t surprise Kakashi – with everything the kid has told him, he has a pretty clear idea of how this village has been treating Naruto. The question doesn’t surprise him, but that doesn’t make it easier to answer.

“I can’t know for sure,” he says, truthfully, softly. “But… probably.”

He can’t tell whether the tension in Naruto’s shoulders decreases or increases at that. “So it’s… not my fault they hate me?”

“No. It’s not.”

Naruto sniffles. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know. It doesn’t, but it’s how people are sometimes, unfortunately.” Kakashi sighs. “They hate the Nine-Tails, but the Nine-Tails isn’t around anymore, so they pick on you instead. It gives them something to do with their hatred. They would’ve blamed your mother if she were still alive; if she hadn’t wanted a child, all of this wouldn’t have happened. But she’s dead, so the villagers blame you and the demon that’s sealed in you.”

“The attack happened because I was born?” Naruto asks, his tone fragile and his eyes wide. Kakashi looks away from his expression. He wishes he could just stop talking – he’s making it worse and worse and worse – but he can’t stop talking now, otherwise Naruto will come up with his own conclusions and make things even worse inside his own head.

“Yes and no,” Kakashi says, quietly. “The Nine-Tails was sealed in your mother, but the pregnancy weakened the seal. She was aware of the danger, and so was your father. They chose to have you anyway. You were that important to them.”

His attempts at making it sound less horrifying go right over Naruto’s head. The kid’s gaze looks flat with sorrow. “So if I hadn’t been born, none of that would’ve happened,” he says. “My mom and dad would’ve still been alive, and the village would’ve been okay.”

Kakashi’s chest is hurting again. “Please don’t say that.”

“But it’s what the people in the village think, isn’t it?” Naruto stares down at his lap, his jaw clenched. “It’s the only thing I could’ve done to not make them hate me. There’s nothing else I can do--” He cuts himself off and looks up at Kakashi, his eyes redder than before. “My parents died that night,” he says, his voice almost steady but not quite. “You said they were important to you. Do you--” His voice catches in his throat, and he tries again, more quietly: “Do you hate--”

“No.” Kakashi interrupts him, because he can’t stand to let this kid believe that nonsense for a second longer. “No, I don’t hate you. And I’m sure there’s other people in the village who feel that way, and I’m sure you’re not irredeemable in the eyes of the ones that do blame you. You’re only ten, and you’ve done nothing wrong. If you decide to stay, you’ll have a lifetime ahead of you to show them that you’re the great kid that you are.”

Naruto only shrugs, staring at the tabletop. Kakashi decides to let him have a moment, and he quietly sets the cup of tea down in front of him. Naruto shakily takes the cup with both hands and stares at it blankly, steam rising towards his pale face.

Kakashi sits down as well and silently sips from his own cup. It’s some sort of minty tea. He hardly registers the flavor through his bitter-tasting worry.

Kakashi’s cup is half empty by the time Naruto wipes at his eyes and gives him an unsteady smile. “Okay, so,” he says, his voice cracking. “Everyone hates me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. In a way, that’s good, right? It should make leaving easy. At least they won’t miss me.”

Kakashi tightens his hands around his cup. He doesn’t want to say anything, but he has to. “I wish it were that simple,” he says, pausing to swallow difficultly, “but it’s not. That’s the point I’ve been getting to.”

Naruto exhales a shaky laugh. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m… unfortunately serious.” Kakashi muffles a cough behind his scarf. “The thing is that the Jinchuuriki – which is what you are – are always very powerful shinobi when they grow up. They can do things other shinobi can’t, because of the Tailed Beasts sealed inside them.”

“That should make it even easier to leave,” Naruto argues. “If we’re in danger, I can protect us.”

“You’re not wrong,” Kakashi replies, “but there’s someone else who would like your protection: the Hokage. He’ll want to keep you here, so that you can protect Konoha when you’re older.” He clears his throat. “If you leave, he’ll try to get you back by any means necessary. It’s possible he’ll never stop trying.”

Naruto’s gaze is fierce. “Is that why he’s nice to me?” he demands. “Because I could be useful to him when I’m older?”

“I don’t think that’s the only reason,” Kakashi says. “The Hokage isn’t heartless, and he cares about the people in his village. It’s very possible he just likes you as a person.” He sighs. “But if you leave and he tries to get you back, it won’t be just because he likes you, no.”

“Got it. Loud and clear.” Naruto shakes his head, rubbing a hand across his face. “Kakashi-san, I want to get out of here.”

There isn’t the slightest bit of hesitation in the kid’s breaking voice. This is what Kakashi had been afraid of – he’s already made his final decision, before Kakashi has properly finished talking. He swallows down his rising panic.

“Are you sure?” he tries. “It’ll be dangerous--”

“I want to get out of here.”

“--as soon as we leave, you have to assume everyone will be your enemy--”

“I want to get out of here.”

“--I’m not sure if I can protect you--”

“I want to get out of here.”

“--it’ll be a lot of work to prepare--”

“Kakashi-san. Please.” Naruto is breathing hard. “I don’t want to stay here. I can’t. I th-- I think it would kill me.”

He may very well be right. The look on Naruto’s face makes Kakashi’s chest hurt.

“Okay,” Kakashi breathes. “Okay, I understand. You want to come with me and there’s nothing I can say to make you change your mind. But I’d like to warn you about some things regardless, and I need you to let me speak.”

A beat passes before Naruto grimaces and nods. Kakashi speaks quickly, hoping that it’ll help to get this over with fast.

“I know it sounds impossible to stay in Konoha,” he says, “but… if I said that the life of a missing-nin was easy, I’d be lying. You can assume that everyone is your enemy: shinobi have to kill you on sight, other missing-nin will hunt you for the price on your head, civilians could snitch on you to either of those groups. There’s a lot you can do to avoid conflict, but if your enemies get their hands on you, you will get hurt.” He exhales slowly. “I’ll… try my best to keep you from getting hurt. But I’ve been truly awful at that in the past, and I’m not in the best shape on top of that. If we run out there with nothing to rely on except my ability to protect us-- The best-case scenario is that you’ll be dragged back to Konoha and I’ll be locked up here for the rest of my life. The worst-case scenario is that we’re both captured by other missing-nin and tortured to death – or that they’ll try to take your power for themselves. The Hokage isn’t the only one who would want to use the power of a Jinchuuriki, after all.”

“So now what, then?” Naruto demands, staring at him. “You’re telling me that staying here would be terrible and leaving would be terrible – what are you trying to say here?”

“I’m trying to get you to realize what you’re getting yourself into,” Kakashi says softly. “I needed you to know the truth about both options before you made your final decision. We’ll need to be careful out there and I needed you to know why. If we want to survive, we’ll need to hide your identity at all times. You’ll need to get really good at henge really fast, and at lying, and I’ll need to find a way to hide your chakra signature. We’ll need a lot of luck to pull it off. I can’t say for certain that we can do it.” He exhales a long sigh at that, and sits back. “There. I’m done being pessimistic.”

Naruto gives him a tiny nod, still frowning, and he lifts his cup to drink his tea. When he’s finished his tea, he sets the cup down on the table and looks Kakashi straight in the eye. “But,” he says, and his voice wavering, “if we do manage to do all of that – if we work hard, if we can leave without anyone coming after us, if we’re super lucky – we’ll… We’ll be okay, right? We’ll do lots of farming and we’ll live in inns and work in a library and we’ll get to do all of the boring-and-peaceful crap you talked about before. Right?”

“That’s right.” Kakashi leans his chin onto his hand. It’s a relief, in a way, to know that this answer won’t disappoint Naruto. “Once I’ve gotten my strength back some, we can travel. We can pretty much go wherever we want and do whatever we want, as long as we keep our identities hidden – one of the perks of not being loyal to a Hidden Village is that you don’t have to follow orders. It’s one of the things I like the most about it.”

Naruto nods. “I think I’ll like that, too,” he replies, quietly optimistic again. “I’m not all that good with rules.”

“Me neither.” He already sees the daydream in Naruto’s gaze, and he quickly adds: “I do hope you’ll follow the rules I make, though? It’s true that missing-nin can do whatever they want, but if you don’t listen to me from time to time, we’ll both kind of end up dead.”

Naruto laughs, the sound hoarse from his earlier emotions. “Yeah, no, I get that.” He also leans his chin onto his hand with a sigh. “I really look forward to leaving. With everything I know now… I really can’t imagine staying here.”

Kakashi looks away. “I’m so sorry I had to tell you all of that.”

“No, it’s…” Naruto smiles wrily. “Well, it’s not fine, but I’m glad I know the truth, now. You don’t happen to have any more lifechanging truths I need to know about?”

Kakashi huffs a laugh. “Nah. You’re all caught up.”

“Good. I have enough to think about today.” He stretches his arms above his head and then gets up. “Guess it’s time to get to work, then, huh? We both have a crap ton of reading to do before we’re ready to leave.”

Kakashi is sure Naruto will need some time to wrap his head around all of this later, but for now he’s willing to let the kid find some distraction. They’ll have plenty of time to process everything when they’re not under the time pressure of trying to get the Nine-Tails’ Jinchuuriki ready for desertion.

With a nod, Kakashi gets up and prepares his still-racing mind for an afternoon filled with research.

Chapter Text

The hours afterwards are spent quietly. Kakashi reads until he can’t focus his eye anymore, takes a nap, and continues reading. Naruto doesn’t stop reading at all, his brow furrowed but his shoulders relaxed. The emotional turmoil from the morning has died down some. Kakashi gets the sense that they’re both calmer now, now that it’s clear what they have to do. Naruto seems more determined than upset, at this point. He still seems pretty distracted, though; there’s a few times when Kakashi catches him re-reading the same page or staring into space. Kakashi supposes he can’t blame him for that.

It’s late in the afternoon when Naruto closes his book and makes a face at it. “Can’t read anymore,” he decides, rocking back on the kitchen chair he’d dragged into his bedroom. “I already know most of what the book says. It’s starting to get annoying.”

Kakashi hums thoughtfully and looks up from his own book. “Well, that’s good,” he replies. “Did the Academy teach you a lot about henge?”

Naruto rocks back and forth on the chair a couple of times. “Yes and no,” he says eventually. “I wasn’t any good at doing henge during class, for some reason, so I taught myself a bunch.”

That’s a bit concerning for multiple reasons, and it also tells Kakashi nothing about how much Naruto actually knows. He closes his book and hides it underneath the bed with the rest of the books. He doesn’t mind taking a break from reading; the pages were starting to go blurry again anyway.

“Can you show me?” he asks. “Try to change into me. Just so that I can see what your skill level is.”

Naruto’s face goes red, and he looks away. “I can’t do that.”

“You… could change into someone else, if you’d prefer that?”

He laughs nervously. “I can’t do that either.”

“Right.” Kakashi blinks at him, confused. “So you don’t know henge?” Shit, this may be more difficult than he originally thought. Living on the run with a ten-year-old who doesn’t know henge… They’re going to die.

Naruto scowls at that. “I know one henge. Learned it all by myself.”

Maybe they won’t die. “Well, we can work with that. Would you show me?”

The kid immediately over-balances on the chair and almost tips the back of his head directly into the wall. When he’s managed to put all four of the chair’s legs back on the floor, his face is even redder than before.

“I don’t think you want to see that henge,” he says, a bit out of breath. “It’s for pranks.”

Kakashi isn’t sure what he’s being so dramatic about. “Show me anyway. It’ll give me an idea of what you can do.”

Naruto shuffles nervously. “I really don’t think you want to see, but…” He sighs and gets up. “All right, fine. If you insist.”

He folds his hands into two sloppy signs, all the while staring at Kakashi with a frown. It makes Kakashi a bit nervous. He’s suddenly not sure whether he wants Naruto to finish those signs.

With a third sign and a massive release of chakra, Naruto transforms into something with pigtails and lipgloss and a lot of bare skin--

Kakashi turns away with a yelp – that is not something he wants seared into his brain for the rest of his life. Naruto quickly dispels the jutsu and scowls at Kakashi. “I told you it’s only good for pranks.”

“I… Yeah. I get it now.” He rubs a hand across his face. “Well, all of that aside… I do think we can work with this. The form you change into stands out too much as is, but at least it doesn’t look like you. With some more practice, you could probably leave the village in that form without anyone knowing it’s you.”

Naruto looks at him like he just said something vulgar. “I’m not sure I want to leave the village as a girl.”

“Well, you decided to teach yourself this jutsu,” Kakashi reminds him with a grin. “Might as well make it useful, don’t you agree?” At Naruto’s unconvinced look, he adds in a more serious tone: “It’s probably our best shot. You won’t be able to master henge before we have to leave, but perfecting the one henge you already know is an achievable goal. We can work on expanding your repertoire later.”

Naruto crosses his arms. “Fine,” he grumbles.

“Good.” Kakashi sits up straighter on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. “Can you try to change into that form again? Try it with clothes, this time. We need to figure out how to keep you from standing out as much.”

Naruto bounces in place a couple of times, thinking, before signing again. The girl he changes into is wearing clothes this time around, to Kakashi’s relief.

“Pretty good,” he tells Naruto. “It’s a bit chilly for a summer dress, though, isn’t it?”

Naruto quickly changes the henge again. This time, the girl is wearing a beige vest and blue pants. “Is this better?” Naruto demands, frowning, and Kakashi snorts.

“Well, you’re convincing enough as long as you don’t open your mouth,” he replies. Naruto has managed to change his voice, but not the way he speaks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It’s something we can work on later.” Kakashi huffs a laugh at the face Naruto makes in response. “Anyway. Our biggest priority is to make sure you can keep up this jutsu for a long time. Do you know how long you can maintain it for?”

Naruto shrugs. “I usually only use it for a couple of seconds at a time,” he says thoughtfully. “Though I once kept up the jutsu for, like, half an hour while I was playing a prank on one of my teachers, and I wasn’t tired afterwards or anything. I can probably keep it up for longer.”

It’s a relief to hear that Naruto at least has good stamina going for him, though Kakashi supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. “I want you to try and maintain this form for as long as you can,” Kakashi tells him. “We need to figure out what your limit is.”

Naruto grumbles a bit about it at first, but he settles down eventually and picks up his book again. Kakashi continues reading as well, watching him over the edge of his book.

Naruto keeps up his henge very consistently, though it seems to be taking up a lot of his concentration. He’s got his book in his hands but he’s just staring at the page, frowning deeply.

Kakashi observes him for about twenty minutes, then clears his throat. “You’re not reading,” he says, and Naruto jumps. “You should try doing something else.”

Naruto gives an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry about that, I’ll just try harder--”

“No, I meant that it’d be better to practice your henge while you’re doing something that you find easy,” Kakashi says. Kakashi himself had practiced his henge while reading when he was young, but that was because reading was easy for him – he could do just about anything while reading. That doesn’t seem to be the case for Naruto, though. “You seem to be doing fine with your henge while you’re focusing on it really hard, but ideally you’d try to make it something you can do subconsciously. It’ll take up less of your energy and chakra that way. If trying to read only makes you focus on the jutsu harder, then try something else.” He gestures with his book towards the kitchen. “Go do that mountain of dishes or something.”

Naruto scrunches up his nose at him. “Why? I’ll be leaving soon anyway.”

“For training purposes. Just do it.”

Naruto gives him a skeptical look, but gets up with a sigh and walks over to the kitchen. Kakashi keeps an eye on him through the doorway as he turns on the faucet and looks for the dishsoap. He seems to be keeping up his henge okay, so Kakashi picks up his book again.

He’s been reading for about ten minutes when the ever-present itch in his throat increases, and he puts down his book to cough into his hand. Immediately, something sticky blocks his airway – he doubles over, coughing harder. His side protests fiercely.

He registers Naruto at his side before whatever is in his throat dislodges with a wet noise. Turning away, he pulls down his scarf, spits into the empty teacup that’d been on the nightstand, and covers his face again. He takes a quick glance at what he just coughed up – just mucus, though more of it than he’s ever seen in one place before – and immediately covers the cup with his hand because that’s disgusting.

Too late; Naruto already saw. He wrinkles his nose at Kakashi. “Ew,” he says.

“Yeah,” Kakashi agrees. He’s struggling to catch his breath. “It’s not a bad thing, though, I think. Either the meds are doing this, or my body’s getting rid of the crud in my lungs by itself. At any rate, it’ll be great to get all of this grossness out of my lungs. Then maybe there’ll finally be some room for air in there again.”

Naruto studies him, automatically frowning when he sees the tension between Kakashi’s eyebrows. “You don’t seem very happy about it,” he observes.

Kakashi shrugs, his shoulders hunching further. “Well, I do look forward to breathing again,” he says. “It’s just that my side already hurts when I’m sitting still – coughing makes it hurt more. So I’m not all that excited about coughing more, no. I guess I’ll just have to deal with it, though.” He gestures with the cup and starts to get up. “Anyway, I’ll go and clean this, now.”

Naruto quickly takes the cup from him. “I’m doing the dishes anyway,” he explains, and he’s off to the kitchen again.

Kakashi idly stares into the kitchen as he lowers himself onto his back and rests his hand on his side. The wound is throbbing deeply; he has to breathe shallowly, high up in his chest, to avoid aggravating it more. It makes him feel a bit lightheaded. Naruto probably made the right call by not letting him get up.

He waits for the pain to ebb away a bit before he clears his throat. “Hey. Naruto.”

“Yeah?”

“You forgot about your henge.”

Naruto stills, startled, and looks down at himself. “Hey, that’s not fair!” he exclaims, turning to scowl at Kakashi. “You distracted me!”

“Not on purpose,” Kakashi shoots back, also scowling. “It’s good that you got distracted, though. There’s a lesson in that.” He gives Naruto a serious look. “Unexpected things will happen when we’re out there. They happen all the time. You’ll have to learn to keep up the henge anyway.”

Naruto stares at him for a moment, mulling that over, before signing and activating the henge again. Kakashi feels like the kid understands.

It turns out that Naruto is able to keep up his henge for far longer than Kakashi anticipated. He makes it well into the evening before he changes back into himself – and then he promptly falls asleep in the middle of dinner, almost spilling his half-empty cup of ramen all over the kitchen table. Kakashi quickly checks his temperature, worried about chakra exhaustion, but his temperature is normal. Naruto’s just tired, and Kakashi can’t blame him at all. It’s been quite the day.

Kakashi isn’t strong enough to carry him to his bed, and Naruto only grumbles instead of waking up when Kakashi shakes his shoulder, so Kakashi just leaves him at the kitchen table, putting the ramen away and draping the orange blanket over him.

With nothing else to do, Kakashi resigns himself to some more reading. He’s starting to get tired as well, but he’s not that tired yet, so he supposes he should use his precious energy for something useful. As he gets up from the kitchen table, he coughs wetly into his sleeve – after some consideration, he ends up emptying the bucket Naruto was using for trash and taking it with him.

He settles back down on the bed, on his good side, and flips open the book he was reading. It’s the fifth book he’s skimmed through, and it’s looking like it’s going to be the fifth book he doesn’t have any use for. He hadn’t been expecting to easily find a solution – most of the techniques are either only for short-term use or incredibly ridiculously advanced with horrific drawbacks, and Kakashi knew that beforehand – but he’d hoped he’d at least find some techniques he hadn’t considered yet.

He’s already halfway through the seventh book when his breath catches in his throat again. Quickly, he tosses the book aside and curls in on himself, trying to take the strain of the coughing fit off his injured side.

With a grunt, he leans over the side of the mattress and spits into the bucket. One of the books has fallen off the bed in the commotion, he notices. It’s the book about seals, the one Naruto brought by accident. Kakashi picks it up again.

More out of habit than anything else, he flips through it as he catches his breath. As expected, there isn’t much of use in there – it’s a dry book about the history of fuuinjutsu – and Kakashi is just considering putting it away when he flips into a section called “A Brief History of Imperfect Fuuinjutsu”, and his curiosity is promptly piqued.

Naruto pads into the bedroom while he reads, rubbing at his neck. Kakashi’s coughing fit must’ve woken him up. “You alive?” he asks, his voice crackly with sleep. At Kakashi’s distracted nod, Naruto narrows his eyes at the cover of the book and huffs a laugh. “I think you should probably go to sleep, Kakashi-san. You’re reading entirely the wrong book.”

Kakashi gives an absent-minded hum, his eye still zipping across the text. “I don’t think I am.”

Naruto frowns at him. “You don’t think you’re alive?”

“No,” he replies, “I don’t think I’m reading the wrong book.”

Naruto looks down at the cover of the book, then back at Kakashi, and walks over to put his hand against Kakashi’s forehead.

Kakashi lets him, then swats his hand away. “Yeah, I know, the fever meds wore off, but I’m serious anyway,” he says. “I think I might’ve found something. At the very least, it’s something to consider.” He holds up the book at Naruto, to show him an illustration of a seal. “This seal was developed by the Uzumaki clan, and apparently it can hide a person’s chakra permanently.”

Naruto scrunches his nose at the illustration. “Yeah, no way it can actually do that. If it was that easy to hide your chakra, everyone would do it.”

“You’re not wrong. I’m skeptical, too. The thing is, it’s not easy to use this seal to hide your chakra. Apparently it uses up so much chakra that it sends any normal person to the ICU. That’s why it was never used in the field.”

Naruto’s eyes widen. “You said I had much more chakra than the average person,” he says. “Do you think--”

“Maybe.” Kakashi closes the book. “But I refuse to apply a dangerous seal to you based on two paragraphs’ worth of information. I’d have to read up on it more, which will take time. Time that might be wasted, because I could just find out that it won’t work anyway.”

Naruto gives that some thought. “Do you think you’ll find an easier jutsu in one of those books?” he asks, nodding at the pile of books Kakashi hasn’t read yet.

“Not sure.” Kakashi stares at the books. “So there’s two things we can do: either I read those books to see what else I can find, or we focus on the solution we already have. Either way, we could be wasting our time.” He shrugs. “I don’t dislike the idea of using a seal. Once the seal is activated, it stays activated until it’s deactivated. Which means you wouldn’t have to focus on keeping the jutsu active all the time, and you’d be able to hide your chakra without having to learn new ninjutsu. I just need more information about it to decide if it’d be safe enough.”

Naruto sits down on the edge of the bed, looking thoughtful. “I’ll stop by the library again tomorrow morning,” he replies. “To pick up some books about seals. And if you think the seal’s too dangerous, we’ll have to think up some other plan.” He yawns loudly and flops onto his back at the foot of the bed. “For now, let’s go to sleep. I’m tired.”

Kakashi can’t disagree with that. He puts all of his stuff away underneath the bed, hides a kunai underneath his pillow, and closes his eye. They’ll need their rest; they have a bunch of work ahead of them. They have a lot of things to figure out before they’re ready to leave.

Kakashi feels like they’ve made pretty good progress today, though.

With that thought, he falls asleep.

Chapter Text

Two days later, Naruto is sitting on the floor of his bedroom, trying to sit still while Kakashi applies the chakra-concealing seal to his back.

It’d taken some time, but Kakashi has managed to figure out a seal that should work. He feels pretty confident about it, too – he’s given up quite a lot of sleep these past days, just so that he could continue his research. He’s very grateful for the medicine; if he’d still been feeling like absolute shit, he wouldn’t have been able to figure all of this out. His headache has been steadily decreasing, which helps a lot, and he’s considerably less exhausted all the time. His body really insists on using that extra energy to force the crud out of his lungs, which is both good and really annoying. It’s good that it’s steadily getting easier and easier to breathe. It’s really annoying that he’s coughing more, and that his chest and side hurt like Hell because of it. He’s pretty sure the stitches on his wound are loosening from the force of the continuous coughing fits.

Despite the disconcerting amount of pain in his side, he’d managed to work out a way to hide Naruto’s chakra without putting him in the hospital. In the end, he’d rewritten most of the seal, only keeping the parts he knew would work. The resulting seal doesn’t work the same way the Uzumaki clan’s did.

He’d explained the concept to Naruto with cups of water. The water in a cup equals the amount of chakra a person has. The seal needs a certain amount of water to stay activated. The Uzumaki clan’s seal would continuously drain water from the cup every second it was activated – not unlike Kakashi’s Sharingan, actually – and eventually the water would be gone and the cup would be in the hospital.

Naruto’s cup is bigger, and there’s more water in it. The seal doesn’t know what to do about that. It’ll still drain all of the water – which will take longer when the glass is big, sure, but the glass’ll still end up empty, and the seal will end up with more water than it needs.

Kakashi’s solution is to trick the seal into thinking Naruto has less chakra than he actually does. Essentially, he wants to split the water in Naruto’s cup into two separate, smaller cups. The seal gets to drain one of the cups to its heart’s content – the other cup is left alone, which means that Naruto can use that water for jutsu. The kid would have less chakra to use for himself than he has now, putting his chakra levels closer to the average jounin’s. That would probably help his issues with his chakra control as well.

So here he is, sitting on the bedroom floor, meticulously finger-painting his version of the seal onto Naruto’s back. They’ve been here a while already, and Kakashi can tell that the silence is starting to freak Naruto out. His shoulders are steadily getting more and more tense.

“How about you practice lying some more while I work?” Kakashi asks, breaking the silence. They’ve been working on a cover story of sorts, one that Naruto can use with the henge he’s been perfecting. “This seems like a good moment for some practicing.”

Naruto almost shrugs, but stops himself in time. “Sure, fine by me.”

“All right,” Kakashi says, drawing another array of characters onto Naruto’s back, “so, imagine you’re using your henge and I’m some random person who wants to make conversation with you.”

Naruto snorts. “Well, first of all, stranger danger,” he says. “Second of all, good afternoon, sir.”

“Good afternoon, kid.” Kakashi finds himself automatically speaking in an old man voice, with an accent like he’s from Iwa. It’s silly on purpose, and Naruto huffs a laugh again, the tension in his shoulders decreasing. “What do they call you?”

“Hinata, sir.” Naruto’s tone is relaxed, and his chakra signature doesn’t betray his lie.

Kakashi hums. “Sounds like a name from the Land of Fire.”

“Yeah. I’m from a tiny town near the border. I don’t expect you to know it, really.”

“Why’d you leave? Shouldn’t you still be in school?”

“Yeah, well…” This is a more difficult question, one they hadn’t practiced yet, but Naruto improvises fine. “My older brother’s been homeschooling me, but he travels a lot, so I’m traveling with him. Does it count as homeschooling when you don’t really have a home?”

“I suppose it does, yes.” Brother, huh? Kakashi supposes they can add that to their cover story. “And, what did you have for breakfast?”

Naruto looks back at him over his shoulder, frowning. “The Hell kind of question is that?”

Kakashi frowns back at him. “Don’t let me throw off your focus,” he chides him. “People are weird. They’re going to ask weird questions.” He finishes up another line of the seal. “You were doing good until now.”

It does worry him; Naruto’s progress hasn’t been bad at all, and he’s been working very hard, but he’s only had a handful of days of practice. Kakashi has no idea how much longer they’ll have before Naruto needs to apply his brand-new skills in the real world.

Naruto grumbles. “Sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter. Just… keep it in mind.” Kakashi leans back, examining the seal on Naruto’s back. “The seal’s done, by the way.”

Naruto’s shoulders tense up a bit again. “Okay.”

“We don’t need to activate the seal right now,” Kakashi reminds him. “You can walk around with the ink on your back until you’re ready.” At Naruto’s tense nod, he continues softly: “If you’re having doubts, we don’t have to activate the seal at all. We can look for a different solution.”

“No, that’s not it.” Naruto shifts. “Just… can you explain one more time what you’re going to do?”

Kakashi nods. “I’m going to use up a bit of my own chakra to activate the seal. It’ll probably hurt some; the seal has to attach itself to your skin.” He wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what Naruto is nervous about. He pauses, trying to come up with a comparison that’s less terrifying. “Kind of like a tattoo.”

Naruto snorts; “I don’t know what it feels like to get a tattoo.”

“It’s not that bad. I got one when I was thirteen.”

Naruto’s head whips around. “You have a tattoo?”

“Not anymore.” He burned off his ANBU tattoo the moment he left Konoha. Thinking back, he doesn’t remember that hurting, either. Maybe the pain from getting the tattoo just didn’t register either, because he had so much stuff going on inside his head. “Anyway-- The seal will attach itself to your skin, and half of your chakra will be locked away for the seal to use. You’ll likely feel kind of faint until your body gets used to the change. You’ll need to take it easy for the rest of the day.” The human body can be pretty dramatic when its chakra flow changes – Kakashi remembers as much from when he got his Sharingan. “From then on, you’ll be able to hide your chakra at will. Do you remember the hand signs I taught you?”

Naruto nods, folding his hands into the complicated array of signs Kakashi drilled into him. “Like this, right?”

“Yeah. Make sure you don’t hide your chakra while we’re still in Konoha, though. The people who are familiar with your chakra signature will notice.” Kakashi clicks his tongue. “That part of the seal will be visible when it’s deactivated, though, so you’ll need to be careful not to let anyone see it. The rest of the seal will stay hidden; that part serves to split up your chakra, and I haven’t found a way for you to deactivate it at will.”

Naruto nods, then sighs. “Let’s get this over with,” he says, visibly clenching his jaws.

“You sure?” Kakashi asks – the kid still seems nervous.

“Yeah,” Naruto replies with a nod. “The seal will be super helpful when we leave. We just need to get the sucky phase out of the way as soon as possible.”

Kakashi can’t disagree with that. “All right,” he just says, already running his hands through the necessary signs. “Let’s get it out of the way, then. Brace yourself.”

Naruto nods again, clenching his jaws tighter. “Ready when you are,” he says through his gritted teeth.

Kakashi finishes his signs – gritting his teeth himself against the sharp pain in his wrist – and lays the palm of his hand onto the seal on Naruto’s back. Quickly, because doing it slowly would be more uncomfortable for Naruto, he pours his chakra into the seal.

Naruto makes a surprised noise and tenses his shoulders. His hands curl into fists in the front of his jacket.

“I know, it stings, I’m sorry.” Kakashi needs to focus in order to keep his hand steady. He really doesn’t like that he’s the cause of the kid’s discomfort. “Do you need me to stop?”

Naruto just shakes his head. Kakashi catches a glimpse of his expression when he moves his head to the side; his face is pinched.

“Remember to breathe,” Kakashi reminds him softly; Naruto inhales a shaky breath and holds it, his cheeks puffing out. The seal has almost completely vanished at this point; a few more seconds and it’ll be activated. “I’m almost done-- There. Done.”

He lifts his hand off Naruto’s back, and Naruto’s shoulders relax. He leans forward, huffing a breathless laugh. “Ouch,” he says, raising a hand to rub at his neck.

Kakashi hums an apology. “Has it stopped hurting now?”

“Mostly, yeah. It’s kind of itchy.” He reaches behind himself to scratch at his back; Kakashi bats his hand away.

“Don’t scratch it,” Kakashi tells him. “It’ll stop itching by itself.” Naruto makes a disgruntled sound, but listens anyway. “Are you feeling faint at all? Dizzy?”

Naruto tentatively shakes his head. “A little dizzy,” he says. “Just a tiny bit, though. Does that mean it didn’t work?”

“No, it worked. Your chakra signature is hidden. You should deactivate that now, before the seal wastes a bunch of your chakra for no reason.”

The kid has some trouble remembering the hand signs now – not that Kakashi blames him – so Kakashi reminds him of the correct order of the signs. He manages to successfully deactivate the correct part of the seal; the black lines appear on his back again, now etched into his skin. His chakra signature remains half as strong as it was before, the way it should.

“Seems to be working like it’s supposed to,” Kakashi observes with a shrug.

Naruto turns around to face him, grinning. “That’s awesome.”

Kakashi huffs a laugh, then shakes his head. “Don’t celebrate just yet,” he warns him. “Your body is still getting used to the change in your chakra flow. You’ll probably find it considerably less awesome when you feel like crap for the rest of the day.”

Naruto is still grinning, so Kakashi’s warning probably went straight over his head. “I’m hungry,” he says, getting his feet underneath him. “How about we eat dinner early today?”

The slight sway in his shoulders is the only warning Kakashi gets before Naruto drops bonelessly to the side.

Kakashi starts forward automatically, reaching to catch him, to keep his head from smashing against the floor. Gravity pulls him along in Naruto’s fall; they both land on the floor on their sides, Naruto’s head tucked safely against Kakashi’s chest.

Kakashi’s injured side does not take kindly to being slammed into the floor. The immediate jolt of pain in his side tears a gasp out of him – his subsequent breathless coughing fit pulls at the wound so much that it turns his vision gray. His stomach churns from the strain.

The small percentage of his brain that isn’t completely overwhelmed warns him that he might throw up. Shakily, he rolls Naruto off him and drags himself to his knees, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

His nausea ebbs away a bit, but not fully. The pain in his side doesn’t ebb away at all. It hurts as much as it did the day he got stabbed. He curls in on himself, bending forwards until he can press his forehead against the cold floor. The corners of his eyes sting.

“Kakashi-san?” Naruto has come to again, and Kakashi knows he should be relieved about that but he mostly just feels vulnerable. “What... happened?”

Kakashi clears his throat. His voice is surprisingly steady when he speaks, though he’s hardly able to gather the breath to talk. “You fainted. How’re you feeling?”

There’s a few moments of silence; Kakashi isn’t looking at Naruto but he can imagine the worried frown on his face. “Uh, I’m fine,” he murmurs, belatedly. “Kakashi-san, are you okay?”

Kakashi turns his head to give Naruto a wry smile, his cheek pressed against the floor. “I’ll give you an honest answer if you give me an honest answer.”

Naruto rubs his hands across his face and gives Kakashi a wry smile in return. “I feel like crap.”

“I was going to say the same thing.” His humorless laugh makes another wave of pain ripple through his wound, and Kakashi cringes involuntarily, his hand tightening on his side. He presses his forehead against the floor again, hoping that Naruto won’t see his grimace that way. His side feels warm underneath his hand.

“Hey, Kakashi-san?” Naruto’s voice sounds alarmed, now. Kakashi doesn’t turn to look at him. “I think you’re bleeding. Your side--”

“I know.” At the very least, it doesn’t surprise him. The stitches had been loosening for days – he’s not surprised that a blow like this reopened his wound. “How bad-- is it? How large is the stain of blood on my sweater?”

“A little bigger than your hand.”

“That’s not so bad, then. I’ll live.” He’s probably just torn a corner of the wound open, instead of the whole thing. It’s only a small consolation; it still hurts like Hell, and it’ll be a while before it stops hurting like Hell. This whole ordeal will definitely delay their departure. Naruto will probably feel better by tomorrow, but it could be a week or more before Kakashi is able to properly move again.

“Do you need me to grab the first-aid kit?” Naruto’s voice pulls Kakashi from his thoughts, and Kakashi quickly shakes his head.

“Don’t try to move again. I’ll grab it myself.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to gather the courage to sit up. He manages to raise his head barely ten centimeters off the floor before his side protests with a red-hot stab of pain, and he collapses back to the floor with a groan. He coughs breathlessly, curling tighter around his stomach.

“On second thought,” he grits out, panting, “it’s probably for the best if neither of us moves for a while.”

Naruto’s quiet noise of agreement is drowned out by a sudden knock on the front door.

Kakashi freezes, turning his head to share a startled look with Naruto. They both hold their breaths, as though that’ll increase the likelihood of the visitor leaving them alone. But then there’s another knock, louder than before, followed by an equally-loud voice.

“Naruto! You’d better be home, or else you’re in serious trouble!”

“Iruka-sensei,” Naruto breathes, and he shouts back: “Calm down, I’m here! What do you want?”

There’s a pause at the other side of the door, as though Iruka is surprised by his answer. “You’re never absent from school for this long,” he then replies. “I wanted to check whether you were actually home sick.”

“Well, I am,” Naruto replies. Despite everything, Kakashi feels a pang of pride at how convincing the lie sounds. “Are you done checking in, now?”

“I’d actually like to talk to you for a moment,” Iruka replies, and Naruto’s shoulders slouch. “Could you come to the door?”

Naruto closes his eyes for a moment, then grabs his T-shirt and slowly gets to his feet. “I have to do this,” he whispers at Kakashi when he notices his worried look. “Iruka-sensei is super stubborn. If he doesn’t believe I’m actually sick, he won’t leave us alone. I have to convince him.”

Kakashi doesn’t know Iruka very well, but he can thoroughly imagine that Naruto is right. “Just don’t let him in.”

From his helpless position on the floor, he watches as the kid shuffles towards the front door – and he hopes Naruto’s plan will work as well as Naruto thinks it will.

Chapter Text

Out of every teacher at the Academy, Iruka was the only one who’d considered the possibility that Naruto was actually sick.

He didn’t believe that it was likely, of course – this was still Uzumaki Naruto they were talking about, and it was far more likely that he was just getting up to no good – but he figured it wouldn’t be impossible. A couple of kids from another class were sick with the stomach flu. Maybe Naruto had picked up the bug as well. He figured, if Naruto was planning some sort of extremely-elaborate prank, he wouldn’t have kept silent about it for this long.

He’d discussed as much with his colleagues over lunch break; he’d proposed the idea of maybe checking in on Naruto, to make sure he wasn’t dead. They’d shut him down swiftly. Some had laughed. Iruka shouldn’t waste his time, they’d said. Naruto didn’t get sick. He’d turn up eventually, and if not, then maybe the Academy would finally know some peace and quiet.

A couple of weeks ago, Iruka would’ve laughed along with them and would’ve left the subject alone. But something about that didn’t sit right with him. And that’s how he’d ended up at Naruto’s front door.

There’d been an absolutely terrifying moment, right after the first time he’d knocked, when he realized he couldn’t sense Naruto’s chakra signature at all. Which meant that either he wasn’t home – which would mean his colleagues were right – or that he was dead.

Slightly less terrifying, but still concerning, is the discovery that Naruto is home, and alive. He must’ve caught a pretty serious illness if it’s messing with his chakra reserves like that. Either that or he’s somehow exhausted his chakra. Iruka waits to see for himself.

The door clicks open, revealing a scowl on a pale, sweaty face. Naruto stares up at him, leaning against the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. He’s wearing his T-shirt backwards.

Well, he certainly doesn’t look healthy. It’s satisfying to realize that Iruka wasn’t wrong about Naruto being sick. He’ll make sure to rub that in Mizuki’s face the next time they talk.

Naruto rolls his eyes at Iruka’s silence and shifts to scratch at his back. When he sees Iruka looking, he explains: “It’s, uh, some sort of rash. You should keep your distance. It’s probably contagious.” He coughs without holding a hand in front of his mouth, and Iruka automatically takes a step back. “You said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Yeah,” Iruka replies, directing his attention to the conversation. “I wanted to tell you that I brought the food to your dog, and I wanted to ask if you’d like me to check in on him again. It’s been a couple of days, after all.”

He hadn’t planned on offering to check in on the dog again, but he finds himself saying it anyway. He doesn’t normally empathize with the kid easily, but Naruto is already grounded and sick. Iruka doesn’t feel like adding to that misery by letting his dog die on top of everything else.

To his surprise, Naruto just shrugs absent-mindedly. “You don’t have to go see him again. He’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Iruka asks, bending down to look Naruto in the eyes. “It’s really not a bother.”

Naruto smiles at him a little, his gaze bleary. “Thanks,” he says, “but, no.”

Iruka holds the eye contact a moment longer, just in case he changes his mind, but Naruto just closes his eyes. “Okay,” Iruka says quietly. “I wanted to give you back your backpack as well. Also, Hinata asked me to pass this along to you. I think she was too shy to visit you herself.” He sets Naruto’s backpack down on the floor and hands him the little purple envelope from Hinata.

Naruto clears his throat and glances up at Iruka. “You came all this way for this?” he asks. “You could’ve just waited for me to get back to school.”

“Yeah,” Iruka replies with a half-shrug, “I could have.”

He came here because he’d been worried. It’s surprisingly difficult to get those words out of his mouth. One does not worry about Uzumaki Naruto. One worries about what trouble he’s going to cause next, sure, but not about the kid himself.

His silence lasts for too long; Naruto coughs again, more quietly than before. “Say, can we wrap this up?” he asks bluntly. His face is really pale all of a sudden, Iruka notices. “I kind of want to go back to bed--”

--and his voice falters, and his eyes roll back, and he topples forwards like a dead tree.

Iruka catches him with a surprised grunt, carefully lowering him to the floor. Well. This wasn’t how he’d expected this visit to go. He hadn’t known that Naruto was capable of passing out – while his classmates occasionally exhaust themselves during ninjutsu training, he’s never seen it happen with Naruto. He’d assumed it was just another way the Nine-Tails made him not-quite-human. Then again, he’d also assumed Naruto couldn’t get sick, and he was evidently wrong about that too.

He kneels down next to Naruto, reaching out a hand to pat his face. “Naruto,” he calls. “Hey. Naruto.”

He doesn’t respond, his expression remaining slack. Sitting this close to him, Iruka can sense the shaky hum of his chakra signature – it’s maybe half as strong as it usually is, and nowhere near as overwhelming to the senses. Whatever illness it is that Naruto has, Iruka thoroughly hopes he doesn’t catch it.

The thought makes him hesitate for a moment before he taps his hand against Naruto’s cheek again. His face is cold to the touch, cooled down by the chill in the hallway and the lack of blood in the kid’s face. He should probably get warm before he gets even sicker. Iruka feels a pang of guilt at that; he’s the one who called Naruto out of bed.

It’s his responsibility to get him back under the blankets, he decides, resigning himself to the fact that he now feels sympathy for Naruto. With a sigh, he picks him up and carries him into the apartment.

He takes a moment to shuffle the backpack over the doorstep with his foot, and to close the door with his elbow. He’s never been in here before; it’s cleaner than he’d expected. The sun-bleached wallpaper and the dark spots along the ceiling remind Iruka starkly of the apartment he used to live in himself after his parents passed away, after the Nine-Tails destroyed his childhood home. The feeling that thought gives him is too complicated to examine right here and now, so he moves on quickly.

The bedroom isn’t difficult to find, and it’s exactly as messy as Iruka had anticipated. He steps over the open ink container on the floor and clears an empty teacup off the unmade bed. As carefully as he can, he lowers Naruto onto the bed, onto his side, because his back was clearly bothering him earlier. He doesn’t think he’s ever been gentle with Naruto before. At all, really. He’s grabbed the kid’s arm to drag him away and he’s smacked him upside the head a couple of times, but the thought of being careful with him had never really occurred to him, he supposes.

He pulls the blanket over him and stands there for a moment, his hands in his sides. It’s tempting to just leave Naruto like this; he’s clearly been doing fine taking care of himself, if the multiple bottles of medicine on the nightstand are anything to go by. Iruka could leave right now and be reasonably certain the kid won’t die.

He would’ve had no qualms about leaving the Nine-Tails’ Jinchuuriki to his devices like this. Thing is, when he looks down at Naruto’s pale, slack face, he doesn’t see the Nine-Tails’ Jinchuuriki. He just sees a sick little boy. A kid who shouldn’t be fighting off such a serious illness by himself.

…If Iruka stayed to help, would he be helping the Nine-Tails’ Jinchuuriki or the sick ten-year-old?

Does it matter?

Iruka takes another long look at Naruto’s face and decides that no, it doesn’t matter. His feelings about Naruto are conflicted and they’ll probably always stay that way, but just for now, he’s willing to ignore the fact that Naruto carries with him the monster that killed his parents. He can go back to hating Naruto when he’s well enough to set off stink bombs in his classroom again.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when Naruto winces, reaching out a hand to scratch at his back like he’d done earlier. “Naruto?” Iruka asks him, stepping closer. “Can you hear me?”

But Naruto’s eyes stay closed, and he doesn’t react. Iruka’s gaze shifts to his back, his eyebrows drawing together with worry. He should probably check out what’s up with Naruto’s back. Maybe he’s sicker than he realizes. Maybe Iruka should take him to the hospital.

He kneels down next to the bed, reaching for Naruto’s T-shirt.

The moment Iruka’s hand touches Naruto’s T-shirt, a low growl sounds from underneath the bed.

Iruka launches himself backwards, automatically taking out a kunai. He stares at the darkness underneath the bed from the doorway – stares at the large white shape that crawls out of that darkness, at the bared teeth, the single eye.

The dog – the dog, which is in Naruto’s bedroom, where it shouldn’t be – plants itself squarely in between Iruka and Naruto, snarling.

It takes Iruka a couple of seconds to blink away his confusion and to start focusing on calming the dog down. Naruto said it liked to bite; Iruka should probably start paying attention.

“Hey there, Dog-san,” he says, his tone still a bit flat with alarm. He quickly puts away his kunai and holds out his hands. “Sorry I didn’t announce that I was coming in. I didn’t really expect you here.”

His words only make the expression on the dog’s face even more vicious. If Iruka’s earlier assumption about the dog understanding human speech had been correct, then the dog is choosing not to listen to him right now. It wants him out of here, Iruka realizes. More specifically, it wants him away from Naruto.

He swallows, the sound clicking in his dry mouth. “I was just trying to help Naruto,” he says, his shoulders tensing up at the absurdity of trying to explain himself to a dog. “I won’t hurt him, and I won’t hurt you, either.”

The dog does not back down, and Iruka runs a hand through his hair, a slightly-hysterical laugh bubbling out of him.

“Look, I’m having a really weird afternoon,” he tells the dog, voice rising against his better judgement, “so would you please--”

He’s distracted by the sudden sound of dripping liquid, and he cuts himself off. His instincts tell him the liquid is blood, and his instincts are correct – a few drops of blood patter onto the floor from underneath the fur on the dog’s flank.

He stares. The dog stares back at him.

And then a horrifying snarl rises from the dog’s throat, and Iruka flinches backwards--

“Stop it!” Naruto has raised his head off his pillow, and he’s staring down at Iruka and the dog with a frown. “Both of you. Please. You’re just freaking each other out.”

Inexplicably, the dog stops growling, and turns to look at Naruto. Iruka tenses up when the dog turns its head to look at Iruka again – but the dog just narrows its eye at him and retreats back into the darkness underneath the bed.

Naruto drops his head back to the pillow with a sigh. He stares wrily at Iruka. “You weren’t supposed to see him,” he murmurs gloomily.

“I wasn’t supposed to--” Iruka starts, then cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Of course you wouldn’t want me to see the dog. Naruto, why is he here? What did you…”

On second thought, he doesn’t need to ask; the story is pretty clear to him. Naruto ignored the Hokage’s direct orders, went outside the village and brought his dog back. How he did it without anyone noticing is still a mystery to Iruka, but he figures that it’s probably best for his mental health if he doesn’t know.

Naruto looks away, fidgeting with a hole in his blanket. “Don’t tell Hokage-jiji. Please.”

Iruka runs a hand through his hair, thinking. Ignored orders or not, he almost can’t imagine that Hiruzen would wish ill on Naruto and his dog. “I’m sure the Hokage would understand,” he starts. “Maybe he’d even help you.”

Nothing less than fear sparks in Naruto’s eyes. “Don’t tell him,” he insists. “Promise you won’t. Or else I’ll have to get Dog-san to bite you, and I don’t want to do that.”

Iruka sighs, then nods. “Okay. I won’t.” It’s not the threat that convinces him.

The fear in Naruto’s expression calms visibly. “Thanks.”

“But,” Iruka continues softly, “I do think you’ll need to ask somebody for help. A medical-nin, at least. And a vet. I get that you’ve been taking care of your dog by yourself all this time, but you can’t take care of an animal when you’re so sick yourself.”

Naruto looks away. “We’re fine.”

“Dogs aren’t supposed to bleed on the floor, Naruto,” Iruka tells him matter-of-factly. “Kids aren’t supposed to randomly pass out. You’re not fine.”

“What’s it to you, anyway?” Naruto asks, sending a glare at Iruka. “You don’t like me. You never did. Why do you suddenly give a crap now?”

That catches Iruka off guard. He’s been steadily disliking Naruto less and less over the past weeks – and for some reason, he expected Naruto to have noticed that. Of course he didn’t notice, though. Iruka never said anything.

He’s silent for a beat too long, and Naruto sighs, pressing his cheek against his pillow. “Just leave me alone,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to see a medical-nin, I don’t want to take Dog-san to the vet, I don’t want any help-- I don’t want your help, either. I’m glad you helped me out with Dog-san before, but I can take it from here. Just go.”

Iruka bites into the inside of his cheek. “Just to make sure there aren’t any misunderstandings,” he says gently, “I don’t hate you. I really don’t.” Not anymore, at least.

Naruto’s eyes widen before he gives Iruka a wry smile. “That’s very nice of you, sensei,” he replies, “but I still want you to leave. And take the food containers you brought Dog-san with you. They’re on the kitchen counter.”

All of this still doesn’t sit quite right with Iruka, but he finds himself turning around anyway. If Naruto is well enough to argue with him, then he’ll probably be okay.

He hopes Naruto won’t mind if he checks in on him again tomorrow.

The moment Iruka closes the front door behind himself, Kakashi dispels his henge and muffles a groan in his sleeve. He’s hurting down to his bones; he really regrets trying to scare Iruka, even though it worked. It was not comfortable to get up on his hands and feet with a tear in his side. He suspects he might’ve torn the wound open further by doing that, if the blood is anything to go by. He presses his hand against his side, the blood-soaked fabric warm against his cold fingers.

Above him, on the bed, Naruto heaves a long sigh. “Sorry about Iruka-sensei,” he says. “I tried to get him out of here as quickly as I could-- Are you okay?”

“No,” Kakashi croaks back. “You?”

Naruto laughs drily. “Also no.”

“Well, they do say that a problem shared is a problem halved.” Kakashi braces his foot against the nearest leg of the bed, using the leverage to slide himself out from underneath the bed on his back. His wound protests, and he flinches, pressing the back of his head against the floor.

Naruto is staring at him from on top of the bed, his gaze worried underneath his visible exhaustion. “Do you need any help?”

“No need,” Kakashi replies, carefully rolling himself onto his good side. “You should stay where you are. I’ll take care of my wound myself – I’ve done stuff like this a million times.”

It takes a second before Naruto replies, like he’s having trouble processing what Kakashi is saying. The chakra exhaustion must really be doing a number on him. “All right,” he then says, shrugging and closing his eyes. “First-aid kit’s in the bathroom.”

Kakashi makes his way there on his hands and knees, curled tightly around his stomach. He closes the bathroom door behind himself and sits there for a minute or so, gathering the courage to turn on the light. He’s thoroughly out of breath, just from crawling those few meters, and he has to focus to avoid coughing.

Eventually, he carefully unfurls from his position, wipes his bloody hand on his pants and reaches out to flick on the light. Not giving the jolt of pain time to ebb away – he’s already in pain anyway, he might as well get everything over with in one go – he grabs the first-aid kit from the cabinet under the sink, yanks his sweater off and rips the bandage off his side. With twitching fingers, he grabs a fistful of gauze pads and presses the gauze against the wound.

He sits like that for a long time, staring blankly at the bathroom wall, watching the dark spots that are crawling in his vision. His side throbs fiercely; every muscle in his upper body has tensed up in response, restricting his breathing even more than it had already been restricted. His mind reacts to the misery by blocking it all out, leaving nothing except a vague nausea and the knowledge that Kakashi should not move.

When he finally zones back in, his eye feels dry, and his side feels somewhat stiff. Blinking forcefully, he slowly removes the wad of gauze from his side and bends forwards to get a better look at the wound.

He’s a little alarmed to see his entire abdomen covered in blood, but at least the blood appears to be drying. The wound itself is dark and sticky-looking, blood coagulating along the outside of it, a broad crimson line parallel to the waist of his pants. About a third of the wound is torn open, turning the line into some sort of arrow that’s pointing away from his navel.

Even underneath the blood, Kakashi can make out the ragged edges of torn stitches, torn skin. Gritting his teeth, he plucks the torn stitches from his side, leaving the black pieces of thread in a bloody little heap on the floor.

Panting, he leans his back against the bathroom door, wearily resting his gaze on the first-aid kit. He should probably stitch his wound closed again, but he’s debating whether it’s worth the effort. The skin around the wound is all screwed up. He’s not sure whether the stitches would even hold.

It seems unfair not to give it a try, though. He’s already trapped Naruto and himself in Konoha for longer than necessary by ripping his wound open. He should do his best not to delay his recovery even more.

He stitches up the part of the wound he’d torn open as well as he can, carefully aligning the edges of the wound to give himself the best chance at healing quickly. He doesn’t have much faith in the strength of his damaged skin – one wrong move would probably rip the stitches straight out again – but it’ll have to do. He’ll just have to be careful not to move too much.

He washes the blood off himself with a washcloth and dresses the wound with fresh gauze. He’d taken an extra painkiller when he was still in the bedroom, and it’s starting to kick in now. The sharp edge to the throbbing in his side has been dulled somewhat.

He takes a moment to appreciate that, before cleaning up his bloody mess and making his way back to the bedroom. He still doesn’t dare get to his feet, so he crawls again.

He tries to be quiet as not to wake Naruto up, but when he gets to the bedroom, he finds that Naruto is still awake. The kid looks up from what he was reading – seems to be a get-well-soon card – to give Kakashi a concerned look. Kakashi tries hard not to feel even more pathetic than he already did.

“Stop worrying,” he tells Naruto sternly before he has the chance to say anything. “It wasn’t as bad as it looked. I can’t move very well and that’s annoying, but that’s all it is. I’ll survive.”

That doesn’t change the look on Naruto’s face. “I’m sorry you got hurt,” he murmurs, and Kakashi recognizes the expression for what it is: guilt, not pity. “You could’ve just let me fall. I would’ve been fine. I heal more quickly than you do.”

“Very noble of you,” Kakashi replies drily, making his way to the closet to dig around for his clean sweater. “Unfortunately, I’m not a big fan of letting the people I care about get hurt. Especially not when I can prevent it. So you’re just going to have to deal with that, I’m afraid.” He wrestles himself into his sweater. “Probably for the best I didn’t let you hit your head, too. Imagine how your sensei would’ve reacted if you’d had a concussion on top of everything else. He would’ve dragged you to the hospital. That wouldn’t’ve been ideal.” Kakashi does not want to imagine how this evening would’ve gone if some medic had found the seal on Naruto’s back.

Naruto gives him a little smile. “Guess you’re right about that.”

“I am.”

Apparently, Naruto doesn’t feel like arguing with him on that, so Kakashi shuts the closet door and changes the subject.

“What were you reading?” he asks, nodding his chin towards the card that’s lying on Naruto’s blanket. “A message from a friend?”

“From a classmate.” Naruto holds up the card; it says “Feel better soon” on the front in neat handwriting, surrounded by lots of meticulously-drawn little sunflowers. “Her name’s Hinata. She helped me figure out what kind of medicine to get you, when you were so sick you wouldn’t wake up.”

“Huh.” Apparently he doesn’t owe his life to one ten-year-old, but two. Also, she’s the only one of Naruto’s classmates that he’s mentioned by name before. Lots to unpack there. “What did she write to you?”

Naruto shrugs. “She wishes us a quick recovery. And she says I can let her know if she can help out with anything.”

Kakashi quirks an eyebrow at Naruto. “She doesn’t happen to know medical ninjutsu, by any chance, does she?” Once again, he remembers nearly nothing about the Academy’s curriculum. Rin had already learned some medical ninjutsu at that age, he’s pretty sure.

“Not that I’m aware,” Naruto replies. “She’s only nine.” He frowns at Kakashi; “Do you think we should look for someone who does? Last time we talked about it, you said it was too risky. Are you hurt so bad that you need a medical-nin?”

“No. I was just curious.” It would’ve been ideal if Naruto had a friend who was trustworthy and good with medical ninjutsu, but of course they’re not that lucky. Kakashi isn’t nearly desperate enough to involve a medical-nin who might rat him out. He’s able to bear this pain and he’s more than willing to do so, especially if it means that he gets to stay out of jail. “Never mind. You’ll be fine without a medic, and I’ll eventually be fine, too. We’ll just need time and rest.”

That’s what he hopes, at least. He stubbornly shoves away his worry about his wound. It had taken weeks before he’d finally started healing a little, and now he’s lost part of that progress again. How much time will it take before his weakened body repairs this new damage again? Will he have that time before trouble inevitably closes in on him? More importantly, when that happens, will he be strong enough to protect Naruto from that trouble?

He’s not sure. But he’s not desperate enough to spend his precious energy worrying about it. As long as he’s safe, in a manageable amount of pain and not actively dying, he likes to think he can handle it.

That’s the limit of what his tired brain is willing to think about today, so he settles down to go to sleep early. Naruto does the same with enthusiasm.

He settles down with his back against the side of the bed, his wound still burning and his stomach still roiling with nausea. With a sigh, he rests his arm across his abdomen and closes his eye. Maybe he’ll feel better in the morning, if he manages to get a proper night’s rest.

Chapter Text

It’s around four in the morning when Naruto is woken up by the sound of Kakashi coughing, again.

Naruto wants to properly wake up and be concerned for him, he really does, but this is the eighth time Kakashi has woken him up tonight and Naruto is exhausted. So he just pulls his blanket over his ears and falls back asleep. Sorry, Kakashi-san.

The next time Naruto wakes up, his alarm clock tells him it’s a quarter to six in the morning, and Kakashi is nowhere to be seen. He’d been sitting up against the edge of the bed earlier, but now he’s gone.

Instantly awake with adrenaline, Naruto rolls out of bed and scrambles out of the bedroom.

The light that seeps out from underneath the bathroom door makes him pause, and he sags against the wall, sighing. Well, at least Kakashi didn’t just up and leave him. He probably just needed to pee.

He’s about to just leave Kakashi alone and go back to sleep when a hair-raising gagging noise sounds from behind the door, followed by a whimper.

Once again alarmed, Naruto rushes to open the door – but Kakashi’s voice stops him. “Don’t come in,” he calls faintly.

Naruto hesitantly slides the door back shut. “I won’t,” he replies, unable to keep the anxiety from his voice, “but, why?”

“Because I don’t have my mask on.”

Naruto supposes that makes sense, apart from everything that doesn’t make sense. “Why not?”

Kakashi responds with a grumbling noise. “Because I’m a-- a little nauseous,” he replies, and Naruto can tell by the wavering of his voice that “a little” is an understatement. “I didn’t really feel like puking into my mask.”

“Do you know… why you’re nauseous?” Naruto must be bothering Kakashi with all of his questions, but he can’t not ask. “Did your pneumomia get worse again?” He doesn’t remember if nausea was one of the symptoms.

“…no. I don’t think it’s that.” Kakashi utters a laugh that sounds so weak that Naruto thinks he’s sobbing at first. “It’s stupid, really. I c-- coughed a little too hard and it just tore the wound right open again. I stopped the bleeding, but the pain is messing with my stomach pretty bad.”

“Oh.” Naruto swallows difficultly. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”

“I’ll live,” Kakashi replies tiredly, “but it’s not ideal, no. If the wound doesn’t stay closed, it-- probably won’t heal on its own-- Or at least it’ll take really long--” His voice gives out suddenly, and he warns hastily, “I need to stop talking or else I’ll throw up.”

Naruto leans against the wall in the silence, his thoughts going a mile a minute. If Kakashi’s wound won’t heal by itself, then they’ll need the help of a medical-nin. They’ve been over this; medical-nin are shinobi whose job is to help, but they’re still shinobi. They can arrest him if they realize he’s a missing-nin, and there’s a big chance that they will realize. Medics need to manipulate people’s chakra in order to heal them. They’re super familiar with the chakra signatures of near-everyone in the village. At best, they’d be suspicious of Kakashi because they don’t recognize his chakra signature. At worst, they’d recognize Kakashi’s chakra signature from his time in Konoha. And using genjutsu to trick them into thinking he’s someone else wouldn’t work, either – the medic would notice that the moment they started messing with his chakra.

Which means that Kakashi and Naruto would need to find a medical-nin who would willingly help Kakashi. Kakashi thinks it’s an impossible task. Naruto kind of doesn’t want to believe that it’s impossible. He doesn’t like what that would mean.

There’s got to be someone who could point them in the direction of a medic they can trust, right? Kakashi has been really reluctant to ask anyone for help this whole time, but things are starting to get kind of desperate now. Naruto wracks his brain for anyone who could help them.

“Hey, Kakashi-san?” Naruto asks, when the sound of Kakashi’s heaving breaths has quieted down some. “When we first met, I asked you why you’d come to Konoha. You said you were here to visit your friends. Do you remember?”

“Yeah,” Kakashi replies in a murmur. “What about it?”

“Do you think any of your friends could help you?” Naruto fidgets with his sleeves. “I mean, there’s probably a reason you didn’t want to ask them for help before – but asking them for help can’t be as bad as, well, this. Right? Maybe they can help us find a medical-nin who won’t snitch on you--”

“Naruto.” Kakashi sounds even more exhausted than before. “I know I said that I was here to visit my friends. I didn’t lie to you, but I also wasn’t-- entirely honest.”

Naruto waits for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “What do you mean by that?”

Kakashi huffs a wry laugh. “My friends are dead, kid. I came here to visit their graves.”

That summons a lump in Naruto’s throat so thick that he doesn’t dare speak around it. He feels a bit lightheaded; could be from the sudden gut-punch of empathy, or from his worsening despair for the future, or from his lingering exhaustion. The whole of it makes him want to put his fist through a wall.

They lapse back into silence. In his head, Naruto turns over his earlier thoughts again. It doesn’t bring him any new conclusions. He tries to imagine helping Kakashi deal with this by himself, but he can only envision himself making everything worse. He’s kept him alive so far, but that was luck more than anything else. Luck won’t make his wound heal – and even if it would, Naruto gets the sense that their luck is starting to run out at this point.

He grinds his hand against his forehead. “This sucks,” he declares, his voice cracking. “Is there really no one who could help?”

It takes a while before Kakashi replies – Naruto briefly fears that he’s passed out, but then he speaks, quietly.

“There’s… one person,” he murmurs. “A friend who isn’t dead.” He inhales sharply. “But I don’t want to drag him into this. Not unless I have to. He would just put f-far too much effort into helping out-- He’d put himself in danger. I refuse to lose him, too.” There’s a resolute edge to the wavering in Kakashi’s voice. “You’re allowed to ask him for help if I’m actively dying. Not a moment before that.”

They’re talking about worst-case scenarios now. It’s really come to this, huh? “Okay,” Naruto replies, also quietly. “What’s his name?”

“He’s called Gai.”

That name sounds vaguely familiar to Naruto – “Gai-sensei”, his brain automatically fills in. It takes him a while to remember where he’s heard it before.

“That weirdo from the library,” he gasps. “With the big eyebrows and the loud voice. He’s your friend?”

Kakashi huffs a laugh, surprised and sincere, then groans when the laughter shakes his stomach. “That does sound like him.”

Naruto takes a split second to marvel at that – Kakashi’s and Gai’s personalities do not seem compatible, so imagining them as friends is funny to him despite everything – before he recalls another earth-shattering detail from that conversation at the library.

“One of his students was reading about medical ninjutsu,” he says – oh, he feels so stupid for only bringing it up now, but then again, he’d hoped it wouldn’t be relevant. “I’d bet you she could heal you if we asked. His team seemed nice. Do you know where I can find them? Maybe I can go and ask--”

“Kid. Please.” There’s something heavy in Kakashi’s voice. A somber warning. “Like I said-- Don’t involve anyone else unless it’s absolutely necessary. It’s illegal to help missing-nin. They could be banned from ever being shinobi again, or go to jail, or get caught in the crossfire if other shinobi come for me. Don’t make them take that risk.”

Despair rears its ugly head again. “But--”

“Don’t argue. Just--” Kakashi’s voice cuts off again – another retching noise, followed by a strained coughing fit. He catches his breath with a quiet whine, a truly miserable little sound high up in his throat.

Naruto balls his fists at his sides. The bone-deep helplessness and sympathy-pain make him want to sit down and sob. He imagines Kakashi feels quite the same, except even worse.

“Kakashi-san?” he asks, quietly. “Can I come in? I won’t look at your face, promise.”

“What for?” Kakashi asks in return, the words more air than voice. He sounds like he’s leaning his face on something.

Naruto wipes at his nose. “I don’t know.”

There’s some silence before Kakashi sighs. “Come in.”

He’s sitting hunched over on the bathroom floor, leaning his arm on the toilet seat and hiding the lower half of his face in the crook of his elbow. His upper body is bare; a wad of gauze is haphazardly taped to his side. Spread around him on the floor, like a crimson explosion, is a mess of red-stained clothes, blood smears and medical supplies.

Naruto freezes in the doorway, staring. Kakashi stares back, his eye blood-shot and half-lidded. There’s a tension around his eye that makes Naruto imagine he’s grimacing. The small part of his face that’s visible is an unpleasant pale grayish color, the rest of his face hidden underneath his sweaty hair.

“Sorry about the mess,” Kakashi murmurs. “I’ll-- clean up later.”

Wordlessly, Naruto pads over to him, careful not to step on any of the medical supplies. He clears some space next to Kakashi with his foot and crouches down, sitting at his eye level. Kakashi tiredly allows it, though he doesn’t look him in the eyes.

Naruto gives him a watery smile. “You look like shit.”

“Not surprised,” Kakashi grumbles. “I feel like shit, too.”

“Do you think you’ll be okay by yourself for a little while?” Naruto asks him, quietly. “I’ll walk to the pharmacy real quick, to get some nausea meds and some new painkillers.”

Kakashi looks him over. “Are you feeling up to it?”

“Yeah. I feel pretty much normal again.” It’s not a lie, not really.

Kakashi closes his eye. “Is the pharmacy even open at this hour?”

“I think so. They open super early during autumn and winter. That’s what the owners’ kid says, at least. He’s in my class.” That is a lie. Naruto smoothes out his chakra carefully so that Kakashi won’t notice.

He shrugs. “Hope you’re right.”

Naruto gets up, casting a last look at Kakashi – still curled in on himself, still breathing irregularly, still looking so miserable and so small – before making his way back out of the bathroom. “I’ll be back soon,” he says. “Don’t keel over while I’m gone. I’ll bring back stuff that’ll make you feel better.”

Kakashi makes a noise in acknowledgement, and Naruto takes off to grab his jacket. As he wrestles his arms into his jacket, he quickly double-checks his booby traps at the windows and the front door. If somebody forced their way into the apartment now and the booby traps didn’t stop them, that would be catastrophic.

The paper bombs at the windows are still in place. The front door is rigged to drop a bucket full of sharp objects and a flash bomb from a hole in the ceiling if it’s opened from the outside without a key; the wire running from the door’s hinge to the bucket is still taut. Naruto knows none of these measures are enough to really stop an intruder, but at the very least, nobody will be able to enter the apartment without getting messed up pretty bad. He hopes that’ll be enough. For some reason, he’s more nervous about leaving Kakashi alone today than he’d been before.

But it’s necessary to leave him alone for a bit. Naruto’ll just have to make sure he hurries back.

He locks the front door behind himself and rushes into the stairwell, his feet stomping on the steps as he runs downstairs. His muscles still feel a little stiff and achy, but he pays it no mind. He needs to think about more important stuff.

He needs to find Gai and his team. He needs to. This is his chance to finally get Kakashi a medic he can trust. And Naruto doesn’t care whether Kakashi wants that or not. He can be mad at him later, when he’s healed, when he’s no longer in such a ridiculous amount of pain.

With that, he leaves the apartment building to step into the foggy early-morning darkness of the village.

The members of Team Gai are in Konoha, and they aren’t supposed to be.

They’re meant to be on a huge month-long mission outside of the village, but they’re not. Not yet, at least. Right now, they’re stuck here until they’ve finished a D-rank assignment they got at the absolute last minute. They’re stuck tidying some guy’s house, of all things. They’re stuck tidying some guy’s house, without Gai-sensei because he left to make some more preparations for their real mission, and Shogo is kind of pissed about it, actually.

She could’ve been on her way to her internship at Kusa’s hospital, to finish up her training as a medical-nin. Instead, she’s packing hundreds of dust-covered decorations into cardboard boxes in someone’s attic.

Her teammates seem considerably less bothered by it than she is, which doesn’t help in the slightest. Kana is happily taking the opportunity to train her chakra control; she’s upside-down on the ceiling, cleaning the cobwebs off the roof’s beams. She can hear Hideji whistling downstairs. Knowing him, he’s somehow getting some extra training in as well.

They’re both seeing this pointless D-rank mission in a positive light, as Gai-sensei says they should. Shogo hasn’t really mastered that lesson of his yet. She’d prefer to help people who actually need her help.

“Hey. Chuunin. What’re you staring at over there?”

Shogo is pulled from her thoughts by their client’s monotone voice. It startles her a little to hear him speak; he’d barely spoken a word this entire time, dodging each of Kana’s attempts to make small talk with him. He’d just been sitting quietly in the corner, smoking such a ridiculous amount of cigarettes that it’s turning the air inside the attic gray despite the open window.

But apparently he’s offended by what Shogo is doing. She blinks her vision back into focus and realizes she’s been staring at a picture frame for probably the past minute. Quickly, she turns to their client to shrug and puts the picture frame away. Best to avoid conflict.

Kana doesn’t share that opinion. She looks down at the photograph from her spot on the ceiling, tilting her head with curiosity. “Is that your wife, Noboru-san?” she asks their client. “The woman in the picture?”

He shakes his head, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “My sister.”

“Ah,” Kana says with a sheepish laugh. “Sorry.”

“She’s dead.”

“Ah,” says Kana.

“Both of my sisters are dead,” Noboru continues, still monotone. “This is our childhood home. It’s their stuff you’re clearing out.”

“Hurray for brief briefings,” Shogo signs at Kana, out of sight from Noboru. It sure would’ve been nice if somebody had warned them about what exactly this D-rank entailed. Suddenly, Noboru’s silence and general gloominess make a lot more sense.

Kana looks from Shogo to Noboru, seeming increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that she started this conversation. Shogo won’t help her. For all she knows, Noboru doesn’t even understand her sign language.

“I’m… really sorry to hear that,” Kana tells him, eventually. “How did it happen? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I do mind you asking.” Noboru turns to look at her, his mouth a tight line in his unshaven face, cigarette between his fingers. “Haven’t you kids been paying attention lately? Two jounin were murdered right outside our village. They were supposed to come over for dinner that evening, and they never showed up. It took Konoha over a week to find their bodies. They’d been killed by a missing-nin, right under our noses.”

Shogo does remember hearing that news, though she hadn’t been told very much about the incident. As a chuunin, she’d been assigned to do a couple of patrols right after the bodies were found, but she hadn’t seen any trace of the missing-nin, and the patrols were called off soon anyway. The Hokage must’ve concluded that the missing-nin was long gone.

Kana nods, looking thoughtful. “They never found that missing-nin, did they?” she asks. “Must be hard not to have that closure.”

“Damn right.” Noboru’s voice is sharper now, bitterness spiking his monotone voice. “Not that the Hokage seems to care much about finding that missing-nin. I talked to him about it, but he only gave me his condolences instead of an actual solution. This--” He gestures at Kana and Shogo with a scoff. “--was his compromise. Sending a genin team to clean up my sisters’ stuff when I couldn’t. And that brings me no closer at all to finding the person who killed them.”

That summons a wry empathy in Shogo. She and Noboru have this one thing in common, at least: neither of them want Team Gai to be here. She’s about to offer to leave when Noboru continues his monologue.

“But, well, it doesn’t matter very much what the Hokage wants,” he says, taking another drag from his cigarette. “I’ll just keep my eyes and ears open for a sign of that missing-nin, and if I find them, I’ll tear them apart.”

Well, there goes Shogo’s empathy for him. She and Kana share a look. “Jeez,” Shogo signs at her. “Maybe we should go--”

And once again, she’s offended Noboru. “What’re you being so secretive about?” he asks. “Use your words, kid.”

Shogo’s patience is wearing quite thin as well – she’s cleaning this guy’s attic against her will, listening to his opinions against her will, and now he’s snapping at her as well. Her tone is less than friendly when she responds.

“If-f-f-f you insist,” she replies, curtly. “I w-- I w-- I w-was just s-s-saying that w-we’re f-f-f-finished.”

She holds eye contact with him while he half-shrugs, puts out the butt of his cigarette on the windowsill and takes a new cigarette from his pocket. He seems at least a bit uncomfortable about snapping at Shogo for her sign language. Good. She doesn’t like using her words. It’s considerably less efficient than signing.

“Let’s go,” she signs at Kana, and to her satisfaction, Noboru doesn’t protest again.

As she helps Kana get down from the ceiling, Noboru lights his next cigarette. Kana pauses to look, because of course she does. Where Shougo’s expertise is dealing with physical hurt, Kana has always been way better at dealing with psychological hurt. Kana is like Gai-sensei in many ways, but it’s this particular similarity that caused Gai-sensei to pick her for his team. That’s Shogo’s theory, at least.

Kana clears her throat and walks up to Noboru. He doesn’t look up at her. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to say,” Kana starts, carefully, “I hope you find a better way to deal with your loss than revenge.”

Noboru scoffs. “This is the best way to deal with my loss,” he says. “I think it’d be hugely therapeutic to get my hands on whoever murdered my sisters. To hurt that person like they hurt them.”

Kana makes a disagreeing little noise. Shogo can already see that she won’t win this debate, but Kana is stubborn still. “Gai-sensei says that everyone deserves to be treated like a human being. Even missing-nin.”

“Very idealistic,” Noboru replies. “I personally think that people lose that right when they’ve made certain choices. I personally draw the line at killing my sisters.”

Kana just stares at him, her hands balled at her sides, frustrated. “Let’s go,” Shogo signs at her again, and this time, she listens. As they leave the attic to find their third teammate downstairs, Shogo makes eye contact with Noboru a last time. “You sh-should c-con-consider what K-K-Kana said,” she tells him. “Sh-she’s right.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Noboru just replies, and Shogo gladly leaves him to his devices.

The members of Team Gai leave their D-rank mission behind quickly. Shogo quickly forgets about the whole thing; she has the promise of her internship in Kusa to focus on. For the next weeks, she’ll be far away from Konoha.

Team Gai has already left the village when a blond ten-year-old knocks on Noboru’s front door and asks about them. Noboru’s only response is to tell the boy to screw off.

Chapter Text

By seven o’clock in the morning, Iruka has finished preparing his lessons for the day. The day’s planning is on the blackboard, his books are open on the relevant pages and lying on his desk, his students’ homework is lying in a box on the floor.

Iruka has finished his preparations, but it’ll be another hour before his students are here. Which means he has plenty of time to visit Naruto.

Yesterday’s visit had occupied his thoughts for the entire rest of the evening, and he’d actually lost some sleep over it. His sudden sympathy towards Naruto had rattled him quite a bit. The more he thinks about it, the more he feels like it was never fair to hate the kid in the first place. Naruto sure hasn’t made it easy to like him, but Iruka’s dislike towards him doesn’t actually have much to do with the Nine-Tails’ presence. The Nine-Tails is fully unrelated to Naruto tearing out pages of his textbooks or shoving mud down the backs of people’s shirts.

All of that is to say… If Iruka ignores the fact that Naruto has the Nine-Tails sealed within him… Then Naruto actually reminds Iruka a lot of himself at that age.

Which is a complicated idea. But it’s true. Iruka used to be an annoying loud-mouthed lonely little brat like Naruto. The one thing that straightened him out was the Hokage’s faith in him, but Naruto clearly doesn’t connect with him like Iruka did. Iruka doesn’t know where he himself would’ve ended up without someone who helped him. He doesn’t want to imagine where Naruto will end up without someone helping him.

So, well. Now that he’s prepared his lessons, Iruka’ll be off to Naruto’s apartment to make sure he doesn’t perish. He hopes the kid likes mediocre miso soup, because Iruka made far too damn much of it and it’s all for him.

He’s busy pulling his backpack onto his back – the multiple jars filled with miso soup inside his backpack make it pretty heavy – when there’s a knock on the door to his classroom. Quirking an eyebrow, Iruka sets his backpack back down on the floor. Last time he checked, he was alone in the building. Did one of his colleagues start their day early as well? Maybe a student?

He walks over and opens the door – revealing not one of his colleagues or students, but instead an old man and an ANBU shinobi.

“Good morning, Iruka-sensei,” the old man says. “I was hoping to find you here. Do you have a moment?”

“Danzou-san.” The greeting comes out flat. It catches Iruka off guard to suddenly see Danzou in his classroom – the man never seems to go outside. Iruka has never spoken to him, though he knows that he used to be politically powerful and that Hiruzen doesn’t seem to like him much. Iruka quickly shakes himself and tries to sound less blatantly impolite. “What’s, uh, what’s this about?”

Danzou smiles at him. It’s not a warm smile. “I wanted to ask you some questions.”

“Is it urgent?” Iruka asks, shifting on his feet. “I was just about to…” …to go and visit Naruto, was how he’d planned to finish that sentence, but something tells him it’s wiser to keep that to himself. “Never mind, actually. Come in.”

Danzou sits down on Iruka’s desk chair, resting his hand on his cane. He looks Iruka up and down, as though judging his worth. Iruka is suddenly quite aware that he’s about fifty years younger than Danzou is. He doesn’t like that feeling very much.

“What did you want to ask me?” Iruka asks. He finds himself instinctively puffing out his chest in an attempt to seem more mature. It’s a childish thing to do. In the corner of his eye, he sees that the ANBU is closing the blinds in front of the windows.

“I hoped you would be able to shed some light on a mysterious occurrence we encountered,” Danzou replies, forcing Iruka’s attention back to him. “You see, this morning, one of my ANBU reported back from an out-of-village S-rank.” He nods his chin towards the ANBU, who has returned to his side. “I discovered that her memory had been altered with genjutsu.”

He pauses, as though expecting a reaction from Iruka. Iruka isn’t sure what kind of reaction he’s expecting. “That sounds unpleasant,” he replies belatedly, not quite managing the sympathetic tone he aimed for. “If you’ve come to request my help with undoing the genjutsu, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong person. I’m not an expert in the field--”

Danzou shakes his head. “I have already managed to undo the genjutsu myself. The reason we have come to you, is because my ANBU tells me that the person who cast the genjutsu wore your face.”

Iruka can feel the ANBU’s eyes on him, staring from behind her mask. Panic rises within his chest – that specific type of panic he always gets whenever he’s accused of something he didn’t do. He hadn’t been in this situation since he was a kid, and the feeling makes him feel suddenly very small.

“There’s got to be a mistake,” he starts, but Danzou holds up his hand, cutting him off.

“I am not accusing you of putting her under genjutsu,” he says calmly. “The genjutsu was cast by a Sharingan. What I wanted to ask you, is whether you have recently been in contact with someone who bears the Sharingan. If we knew of a Sharingan user who knows your face, that would help us understand who attacked my ANBU.”

Iruka is fairly sure Danzou is screwing with his emotions – startling him, then reassuring him again – on purpose, to show his power over him. It’s difficult to stay polite after that realization. “I don’t know anyone who has the Sharingan,” he replies. “Nobody who’s alive, anyway.”

“I understand that Uchiha Sasuke is one of your students.”

“He hasn’t awakened his Sharingan yet. If that answers your question.”

“It does not,” Danzou says with a little smile. It’s not a hostile expression, but the lack of hostility somehow makes it more offputting. “But that’s okay. If my suspicion is correct, you wouldn’t remember meeting the Sharingan user, anyway.”

Iruka’s polite smile is a little strained; he’s starting to get really tired of Danzou making no sense. “I’m sorry,” he says, though he’s not sorry, “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“You don’t need to. If I’m correct, I shall explain it to you.” He beckons Iruka closer. “Step over here, would you?”

Iruka hesitates, but he sees the subtle shift in the ANBU’s stance and he decides not to hesitate for too long. He moves closer to Danzou, awkwardly.

Danzou, meanwhile, loosens the bandages around his right eye. Iruka doesn’t realize he’s watching nervously until Danzou glances up at him and asks, “Has nobody taught you that it is impolite to stare at your elders?”

“Sorry, sir.” Reprimanded like a child in his own classroom. Iruka looks away, silently fuming. He continues watching from the corner of his eye, both as an act of rebellion and out of curiosity.

Danzou removes the bandages from his face. What he reveals is a Sharingan, embedded in the scarred right half of his face. Iruka only barely keeps himself from reeling back in surprise. He doesn’t have the time to fully figure out why, but the sight of the red eye fills him with dread.

Iruka is sure he’s being impolite in some way by reacting with poorly-hidden shock, but Danzou doesn’t seem to pay that any mind. Instead, he hums thoughtfully and leans forward, eyes darting across Iruka. Iruka is pretty certain he’s examining his chakra signature. It makes him feel a whole new level of scrutinized.

“Just as I thought,” Danzou murmurs. “A very powerful genjutsu has been cast on you. Your memory has been altered, just as my ANBU’s was. Such a genjutsu could have only been cast by a Sharingan user.”

Iruka’s eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?” he asks. “When--?”

“It must have happened some time ago,” Danzou says. “I will try to undo the genjutsu – that will give you back the memory of what happened.” Danzou’s Sharingan finds Iruka’s gaze. “Hold still, and do not break eye contact.”

The red eye spins suddenly, and a sharp ache shoots through Iruka’s skull, a sensation similar to hitting his head. His vision abruptly goes white.

In the pale nothingness, a memory is dragged from the depths of his mind: pouring rain, the light of his flashlight, the smell of mud and old blood. He remembers crawling down a narrow tunnel in the middle of the woods, that night he was looking for the missing-nin that killed those two jounin. That night he and his fellow teachers searched for hours in the storm and found no sign of the missing-nin at all.

Except… he did find something. Now, he recalls how he reached the end of the tunnel and found Kakashi of the Sharingan, infamous Konoha missing-nin.

And he recalls finding Naruto there with him. Naruto, who tried to defend the missing-nin. Naruto, who later sent him back to that same hole in the ground to feed his dog--

Iruka’s mind connects the dots fast. The dog--

“Well?” Danzou’s voice pulls him from his head. He has closed his Sharingan. Iruka blinks forcefully, raising a hand to rub at his aching head. “What do you remember?”

Adrenaline flows through Iruka’s veins. Should he lie? If he told the truth, the whole truth, the consequences for Naruto would be very severe. He’d decided he wouldn’t let Naruto go to jail. How far is he willing to go for that?

“Excuse me,” he mumbles, trying desperately to buy himself some more time to think. He screws his eyes shut and grinds his hand against his temple, drawing from years of experience of faking illnesses to get out of boring classes as a kid. “Bit of a headache.”

“I understand that,” Danzou replies, tone neutral. “I asked you a question, boy.”

The strongly-implied annoyance in Danzou’s voice is the last push Iruka needs to not give this old man the damn satisfaction. Iruka will think up a punishment for Naruto himself. Konoha has no business applying its laws to a ten-year-old – a reckless disobedient little moron of a ten-year-old, admittedly, but a ten-year-old regardless. A kid who likely doesn’t have the slightest idea of the trouble he’s gotten himself into. Konoha has no business sending said kid to jail.

Iruka opens his mouth to speak – intending to only tell Danzou about Kakashi of the Sharingan – but, inexplicably, Danzou holds up his hand to cut him off.

“Don’t speak,” he says coldly. “You have wasted enough of my time.”

He makes an almost-unnoticeable head movement at the ANBU. The next moment, the ANBU is already standing behind Iruka, twisting his arms onto his back.

Iruka shouts, despite the fact that no one will hear him. He thrashes in the ANBU’s grip, trying to wrestle himself loose or push her backwards or anything, really. She is far stronger than he is. He manages a single satisfying kick against her shin before she forces him onto his knees.

He’s directly within Danzou’s line of sight now, unable to move. Reflexively, he squeezes his eyes shut – but calloused fingers force one of his eyes open.

A red eye stares directly into his, and the next moment, he’s talking. He can’t explain the feeling, but all of his distrust towards Danzou has suddenly disappeared. He can’t remember why he hadn’t trusted him earlier, hadn’t told him the truth earlier.

“The person who used genjutsu on me was Kakashi of the Sharingan,” he says, his voice sounding cheerful to his own ears. “I stumbled across him on October 20^th, when I was looking for the missing-nin who killed the two jounin. Uzumaki Naruto--”

He has the inexplicable urge to bite his tongue, to keep himself from talking, and he briefly considers giving in to the urge before continuing anyway.

“Uzumaki Naruto was with him. Naruto was helping him.”

Danzou frowns at him, thoughtful. “You appear sure of the Jinchuuriki’s intentions. How do you know?”

“Well, you see, to the outside world, Kakashi has been posing as a dog. I never knew Naruto was taking care of a missing-nin, but I did know that he was taking care of a dog.” He huffs an exasperated laugh. “I’m not even surprised, at this point. Naruto somehow always gets himself into even worse trouble than I could’ve imagined--”

“That is not relevant,” Danzou cuts him off, and Iruka snaps his mouth shut. “Tell me what you know about Hatake Kakashi. Why did he use genjutsu on two Konoha shinobi? What is he planning?”

Iruka clears his throat, briefly distracted. That headache from earlier has returned, and worse than before. “I don’t know.”

“Is he a threat to Konoha?” Danzou demands.

“I don’t know,” Iruka replies, blinking against the blurring of his vision. His head is killing him. “I mean, he can’t be that big of a threat-- I’m pretty sure he’s injured-- And the Hokage seems to know about him and isn’t doing very much to get rid of him--”

He cuts himself off with a shudder – he’s really cold all of a sudden. His tongue feels numb in his mouth.

Danzou grabs his chin and forces his head upright; Iruka hadn’t noticed he’d been slumping forwards. “Is that all you know?” he asks. “If you know something else, you must tell me now.”

Iruka’s jaw clamps shut tightly at that – he does know more, but he shouldn’t say it. He can’t remember why he shouldn’t say it. He just knows it’s important to keep his mouth shut.

But Danzou leans forwards and stares into his eyes with that Sharingan – the only thing in Iruka’s vision that isn’t blurry – and the words are pulled from Iruka’s mouth anyway.

“He’s in Naruto’s apartment,” he blurts out, and he immediately sags in the ANBU’s grip, his head pounding and his vision flashing white.

Danzou closes his right eye and gets up from Iruka’s desk chair. Iruka can’t see him clearly, but he can feel Danzou’s gaze on him. “I suppose that was too much for him,” Danzou says to the ANBU, his tone disinterested. “Well, no matter. I know what I need to know. Let’s go.”

“What do we do with him, sir?” the ANBU asks. “Shall I take him to the hospital?”

“His fellow teachers will find him in due time,” Danzou replies, his tone impatient. “Let them handle it. If he’s right and Hiruzen is involved in this, then he mustn’t find out that we are investigating Hatake. We should avoid drawing attention to ourselves.”

The ANBU lowers Iruka to the floor at that, surprisingly carefully considering the way she’d manhandled him before. The room tilts dangerously around him at the movement. Iruka squeezes his eyes shut against the sudden dizziness.

When he opens his eyes again, Danzou and the ANBU are gone. They really just left him there, lying on the floor in his own damn classroom. He’d like to be annoyed about the sheer disrespect of it all, but there’s so much else going on inside his head that he can’t even muster up the emotion.

Danzou knows what Naruto did. Because Iruka told him.

The kid is going to jail – possibly even get caught in the crossfire when Danzou inevitably sends for Kakashi to be detained – and there’s nothing Iruka can do to set it right. Judging by the blinding pain in his head, the loss of control over his body, and the ANBU mentioning taking him to the hospital, Iruka suspects the interrogation technique Danzou used overwhelmed his brain somehow. He’s not sure how long he’ll be out of commission for, but he really can’t imagine that he’ll be well enough to sprint out of here in time to prevent Naruto’s arrest.

He also suspects, and this is even more alarming, that he won’t remember his and Danzou’s conversation for much longer. Danzou is trying to be sneaky, after all, so Iruka assumes he didn’t just overlook the fact that Iruka could snitch on him. Whatever technique it is that he used on him, it’ll probably prevent Iruka from telling on him to the Hokage.

A couple of weeks ago, Iruka would have been okay with this. It’s not really any of his business what Naruto does in his spare time, anyway. The less he’s involved with Naruto’s trouble, the better.

But, now, regardless of everything he’d thought about Naruto in the past--

Iruka decides that he has to do something to help.

He rolls himself onto his stomach and drags himself over to the blackboard. Each shaky movement worsens his piercing headache, but he makes it. Out of breath, he sits up on his knees, grabbing for the chalk.

As his vision darkens, he scribbles out a message on the blackboard in lopsided characters:

Tell Hiruzen:

Danzou knows about dog

Naruto is innocent

Keep Naruto sa f   e

The chalk falls from his fingers, and that is the only warning he gets before he loses consciousness.

In the empty staff room in the empty Academy building, Danzou sits on a chair, thoughtfully drumming his fingers against the handle of his cane. This morning has turned out quite a bit more interesting than he had anticipated. More tiring, too. It has been some time since he last used his Sharingan this much.

His ROOT agent has occupied herself with closing the blinds in front of the windows and checking for cameras. She returns to him quickly. “All clear, sir,” she says, and Danzou acknowledges her with a nod. “What are your orders? Shall I go back to headquarters and assemble a team to go after Hatake?”

“It is not that cut and dry,” Danzou replies. She bows her head. “Hiruzen, in his ever-lasting incomprehensibility, has decided he does not want Hatake dead. No matter what actions we take towards Hatake, we must keep our own hands clean.”

Hiruzen has been silently tolerating the continuing existence of ROOT since the Uchiha Incident, provided that ROOT’s actions are for the good of the village. Danzou is not certain whether Hiruzen would consider Hatake’s death a good thing.

Hiruzen and his eternal subjectivity, his passiveness… There is a missing-nin loose in Konoha. A missing-nin who murdered two of their best jounin. A missing-nin who, if that Iruka boy is correct, has been hiding in the Nine-Tails’ Jinchuuriki’s apartment. He may have been working on gaining the Jinchuuriki’s trust for the past weeks, possibly with genjutsu. He could be planning who-knows-what with their village’s most powerful weapon.

At any rate, there is no doubt that Hatake’s intentions are malicious. The fact that he is a former comrade does not change that, though Hiruzen likely doesn’t see it that way. Because he is sentimental. Because he clings to a decade-old memory of a promising, troubled shinobi and refuses to see that the shinobi has grown up into an enemy.

If Danzou gives the order to kill Hatake, Hiruzen will react as though Danzou has killed a friend. And, fiercely protective of his friends as Hiruzen is, he would not let Danzou get away with that. He could take away what little power Danzou has left.

Danzou does not like taking that chance. He must find someone else to take the blame. Someone who could have reasonably acted independently, so that there is no trace of ROOT’s involvement. Someone who has a powerful enough motive to fulfill their task without the need for genjutsu – because genjutsu could be traced back to Danzou, could pose a risk to him. Someone skilled, yet disposable, so that little harm will be done to Konoha’s shinobi forces if Hatake ends up killing this person.

“The two jounin that were killed by Hatake,” Danzou says, and his ROOT agent snaps to attention. “Their brother is an experienced shinobi whose anger Hiruzen has been trying desperately to soothe. Find him and offer him a chance at revenge. Tell him what Iruka told us.”

She nods. “I assume I should hide my identity?”

“Naturally,” Danzou replies. She uses a henge to disguise herself as a chuunin, unrecognizable as one of Danzou’s agents. “Tell the brother to assemble a team,” he continues, “but have him be quick and quiet about it. I want Hatake dead before the morning is over. They can keep his corpse after they are done; I do not need his bounty. No matter the circumstances, though, they must bring me his left eye.”

His agent nods again, and Danzou waves his hand, dismissing her. She leaves with a Body-Flicker.

His plan has been set in motion, and the odds seem in his favor. Danzou has had a fair amount of success with letting others do work for him. And Hatake is injured on top of that. This should be an easy win, and if it’s not, Danzou will set up a new plan with whatever new information he gains from their loss.

Perhaps, if the plan works, Danzou will reveal himself as the mastermind behind it all. Hatake Kakashi will be dead, the Jinchuuriki will have been rescued from whatever ghastly plans Hatake had, and Konoha can leave the murder of two good jounin in the past, all thanks to him. And Hiruzen will be exposed as the loon who allowed a missing-nin to roam free in the middle of their village. Perhaps then, their village will see that Hiruzen is just nothing but an old kook and dethrone him like they should have done years ago.

Well, one can dream. Danzou pushes himself to his feet, a small smile of anticipation pulling at one corner of his mouth.

He quite looks forward to Hatake Kakashi’s death.

Chapter Text

Kakashi has lost track of how long it’s been since Naruto left.

He feels like it’s been an hour, maybe two, maybe longer, though it’s difficult to know for sure when his sense of time is distorted by nausea and dizziness. Kakashi is certain Naruto should’ve been back by now, though. If his memory serves him well, the pharmacy is barely ten minutes away from here.

There’s an anxiety in the pit of Kakashi’s stomach that grows with every minute that passes – an anxiety that steadily becomes just as bothersome as the nausea. Naruto had still been recovering from having the chakra-concealing seal applied to him when he left. He said he was fine, but for all Kakashi knows, he’s collapsed somewhere on his way to the pharmacy. And as though that idea isn’t awful enough, someone could’ve taken him to the hospital, which means the seal could be discovered on top of everything else.

Or – and this is an even worse thought – maybe their fragile cover finally got blown. Maybe someone got suspicious of Naruto and had him taken in for interrogation. Kakashi imagines Naruto in the hands of the T&I department, and his stomach twists unpleasantly.

He groans quietly at the new wave of nausea, pressing his forehead into the crook of his elbow. He’s still kneeling on the bathroom floor, in the same spot he was when Naruto left – in the same spot he’s been since several hours before that, actually. In that whole time, he’s only moved to put his sweater back on because he got cold, and he’s still lightheaded from that simple action. The pain in his side is messing him up bad.

In any case, he can’t imagine that he’ll be able to get up any time soon. Whatever it is that’s causing Naruto to be late, Kakashi won’t be able to help him.

He focuses on his breathing until he feels like he’s no longer actively in danger of puking his guts out, and then he sits up a little and wipes his sweat-soaked hair out of his face. Maybe the constant pain is making him overreact, blurring his judgement, but he really doesn’t like the fact that Naruto’s been gone for so long. He may not be able to go and look for him himself, but he can send someone in his stead. He should have recovered just enough of his chakra for it.

Closing his eyes against the headrush, he raises his hands, which are covered in dried blood, and signs. When he opens his eye, he’s successfully summoned one of his ninken.

Guruko sits in front of him – as the most recent addition to the pack, he’s the safest ninken for this job, because that means the people of Konoha won’t recognize him as one of Kakashi’s.

“I’ve got a mission for you,” Kakashi croaks out, reaching out a hand to untie Guruko’s vest. He’d stopped putting his signature henohenomoheji on the dogs’ vests a long time ago, but he feels like the vest would still draw too much attention here. In this case, it’d probably be safest for all involved parties if Guruko could be mistaken for a stray. “Would you mind finding someone for me? A boy named Naruto. Sniff anything in this apartment and track down the scent, and bring him back here. If he’s in danger, report back to me immediately. And make sure you don’t talk when you’re outside.”

Guruko nods his head, his eyebrows drawing together. “Got it,” he replies, stepping forward to put a paw on Kakashi’s knee. “You sure you don’t need me to find medical supplies as well? You don’t look so good.”

Kakashi gestures at the contents of the first-aid kit, which are spread haphazardly around him on the floor. “Plenty of medical supplies here.”

“Clearly they haven’t been enough to actually help you,” Guruko protests. Kakashi tiredly rests his hand on his head.

“Naruto is my first priority,” he replies quietly. “Find him first. We’ll see about my own problems later.”

Guruko looks like he wants to protest, but he doesn’t. Kakashi lifts his hand from his head, and he’s off.

Kakashi closes his eyes for a while after that, exhausted and relatively at ease now that he’s done something at least. Eventually, the silence is broken by footsteps in the hallway outside the front door.

That’s… quick. He thinks. Guruko wouldn’t have brought Naruto back this soon, would he?

Instinctively, he focuses on sensing the chakra signatures of whoever’s in the hallway – and his blood freezes in his veins.

Shinobi. Two of them. And there’s one more outside the kitchen window, and another one outside the bedroom window.

Damn it, no, not now.

He holds his breath, trying to slow down his racing heart, trying to convince his exhausted brain to think. He knows Naruto put booby traps along the front door and the windows, but they likely won’t be enough to scare off four adult shinobi. Kakashi never added any booby traps of his own, because advanced traps around a ten-year-old’s apartment would’ve confirmed that there’s someone here who put those advanced traps there. That would’ve done more harm than good.

Naruto’s traps might distract the shinobi long enough for Kakashi to make an escape – which had been his plan in case something like this happened – but he does not think he’ll be able to run fast enough in his current condition.

So the shinobi will likely make it into the apartment, and they will find him here. He knows he won’t win a fight, and he doesn’t think he has enough chakra left for any jutsu powerful enough to prevent a fight.

A loud crack sounds from the hallway; the shinobi are forcing the front door open. What follows are a clatter, the sound of someone yelping, and a bright flash of light that slams its way into the bathroom through the space underneath the door. That must’ve been Naruto’s trap. Kakashi has little time before the distraction stops working.

He draws in a breath, steeling himself. He doesn’t have enough chakra left for powerful jutsu, but he has enough for a smaller one. Maybe that’ll be enough.

Quickly, he forms the signs for a henge. He’s very familiar with the person he transforms into; he’s able to copy him flawlessly. The blond hair, the marks on his face, the way he frowns when he feels like he’s been wronged.

He’s not Hatake Kakashi – he’s Naruto, who’s sitting miserably at home because he’s sick and who’s completely undeserving of getting his front door kicked in. He’s Naruto, and these shinobi had better believe it.

He hides away his chakra signature as well, and not a moment too soon; a pair of loud footsteps stomps into the apartment. Another pair of footsteps follows, more slowly. Kakashi can hear the shinobi rummaging about in the other rooms. He imagines them turning what few belongings Naruto has upside down, and he lets that anger seep into his voice when he speaks, the way Naruto would.

“Hey,” Kakashi calls out in Naruto’s voice. The way his voice cracks with exhaustion isn’t faked. “What’s all this about?”

Almost immediately, the bathroom door is yanked open. A shinobi storms into the bathroom, takes a split-second glance at Kakashi, drags him to his feet by the front of his sweater and slams him against the wall. Every shampoo bottle in the room rattles from the force; Kakashi’s side sends a jolt of pain through his entire upper body.

The look of shock on his face is genuine. “What--”

The shinobi brings his face close to Kakashi’s, teeth bared. His breath smells like an ashtray. “You’re the little shit who’s been helping the bastard that killed my sisters,” he hisses. “I should’ve beaten the Hell out of you the moment you came to my door. How dare you ask me for help?”

Kakashi barely has a clue what he’s talking about, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that this shinobi knows that Naruto has been helping Kakashi. He should not have that information.

Someone talked. Damn it, Kakashi should’ve known. Their cover had all kinds of holes in it.

No time to think about that. Kakashi bares his teeth right back at the shinobi. “What the Hell are you talking about?” he replies, his voice strangled because he’s being held up by the collar of his sweater. “I don’t know any bastards that killed your sisters.”

The shinobi stares him directly in the face, and Kakashi considers using his Sharingan on him, but reluctantly decides against it. Even if he managed to put this shinobi under genjutsu, he would still have to deal with the other three shinobi – one inside the apartment, two on their way. There’s a couple of shuriken in his pocket and a kunai up his sleeve, but most of his weapons are in his backpack, hidden in the bedroom. Adding his meagre amount of chakra to that-- He’d get himself killed.

The stare-down might’ve been intimidating if Kakashi had been an actual Academy student; the shinobi has a decidedly wild look in his eyes. It’s certainly not the look of someone who’s following orders, which makes Kakashi think these shinobi are here without the Hokage’s knowledge of it. That idea does worry him.

During the silence, two more pairs of footsteps enter the apartment. The other shinobi must’ve left the windows alone once they realized the place is booby trapped. The shinobi who’d already been inside talks to them, quietly; Kakashi can’t make out any words but he recognizes that this is the voice that yelped earlier. A kunoichi responds, sounding worried.

The kunoichi enters the bathroom soon afterwards, takes in the scene, and sighs. “I leave you alone for two seconds and you’re beating up a pre-genin,” she says to the shinobi, shaking her head. She seems older than he is. Kakashi wonders why she isn’t the one in charge.

He scoffs, not breaking eye contact with Kakashi. “This particular pre-genin deserves to be beaten up way worse than this.”

“Yeah, well,” the woman replies, “could you put the kid down for a minute? Your nephew has glass in his eye. He could use your help.”

There must’ve been sharp objects involved in Naruto’s trap at the front door. Huh.

The shinobi’s mouth tightens. “Is his life actively in danger?”

“No, but--”

“Then he can wait.”

“Noboru--”

“He can wait! Leave me alone so I can interrogate this little traitor!” The shinobi – Noboru – turns his head to snap at the kunoichi. Kakashi takes the chance to make eye contact with her as well, his expression pleading, scared, innocent. If he’s right and she has some power over Noboru, then she might be able to convince him to leave Kakashi alone. That would be a major help.

The kunoichi looks between him and Noboru, frowning. “Noboru,” she starts again, her voice stern. “There’s no one here. All of our information comes from hearsay – from someone who said that someone said that the missing-nin might be here. That the kid might have helped him.” She puts one hand on her hip. “I’ll interrogate the kid. You go make sure your sister’s son doesn’t go blind.”

“There’s no one here,” Noboru mutters, like he hasn’t processed anything she said past that, and he turns his wild gaze towards Kakashi again. “Speak! Where is Hatake Kakashi?”

Kakashi’s stomach lurches painfully in response to that. These shinobi know they’re looking for him specifically – not some nameless missing-nin, but him. It takes effort to clamp down on his alarm.

“I don’t know,” he says, his eyes wide. “I don’t know that name.”

“Liar!” Noboru slams him against the wall again. “You’re clearly hiding something. What’re you hiding?”

Kakashi makes no effort to hide his pain; he still clings to the hope that he can get them to believe he’s innocent. He takes a few gasping breaths. “Nothing,” he breathes.

“Then why did you put booby traps at every entrance of your apartment?” Noboru tightens his hand in the fabric of Kakashi’s sweater when he doesn’t immediately reply. “Answer me!”

Kakashi squeezes his eyes shut, trying to catch his breath. The words on his tongue burn; second-hand bitterness. “If your entire village hated you,” he whispers, “wouldn’t you try to protect yourself from intruders, too?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” the kunoichi decides, grabbing Noboru’s shoulder. “I get that you want revenge for your sisters’ deaths – I really get it – but taking out your anger on a kid isn’t the way. He clearly doesn’t know anything. We’ve hit a dead end, Noboru. I’m sorry.”

Kakashi’s eyes sting with relief. He can get out of this. More importantly, he’s convinced them that Naruto is innocent, which means that Naruto’s apartment will likely be left alone.

There’s a split second of thoughtfulness in Noboru’s eyes before it’s replaced by fury. He pulls one hand back, still pinning Kakashi to the wall with his other hand, and Kakashi knows exactly what’s coming.

Noboru yells, and punches him directly in the diaphragm.

He doesn’t hit Kakashi’s side, but it’s more than close enough. Agony explodes through his entire upper body, red-hot and overwhelming. It briefly steals away his vision. Kakashi had anticipated the pain, but that doesn’t make it better.

Somehow, he manages to stay in control over his chakra – every sign that he’s Hatake Kakashi remains hidden. Even when Noboru lets him fall to the ground and his legs refuse to carry his weight. Even when he blindly drags himself to his hands and knees and vomits on the floor, and when the violent movement of his abdomen sends more waves of pain through his side. He doesn’t care that he’s showing weakness. He’s willing to give up any and all control over his body if it means that he gets to keep his chakra control.

Over the roaring in his ears, he can hear Noboru turn away from him. The kunoichi stays where she is. Kakashi can feel her eyes on him.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Noboru tells her harshly. “Even if this kid didn’t help a missing-nin, he’s still a monster. I’m sure he did something to deserve a beating.”

Kakashi is furiously glad that this isn’t happening to the real Naruto. He vowed to avoid killing whenever possible, but if he’d seen Naruto being treated like this, he’s not sure he would’ve been able to stop himself.

He pants raggedly, still on his hands and knees on the floor. The pain in his side doesn’t stop.

“Noboru,” he hears the kunoichi say, sounding alarmed, “what did you do to the kid? He’s bleeding.”

Not good. Kakashi knows he should focus, now. He’s so lightheaded--

“I didn’t--” Noboru starts, then cuts himself off. “We were told that Hatake Kakashi is injured. This isn’t the Jinchuuriki.”

Before Kakashi fully realizes what’s happened, he’s already been slammed onto his back and pinned against the floor, Noboru’s hands squeezing his throat. Kakashi takes a half-second to close his eyes, resigned.

There went his chance at getting out of this without violence.

Gritting his teeth, he reaches for the mess of first-aid supplies on the floor, grabs a handful, and hurls it into Noboru’s eyes. It only blinds him for a moment. That’s long enough.

Kakashi lets the kunai in his sleeve slide into his hand and stabs him in the lung.

The kunoichi immediately runs up to help, shouting. Kakashi lets go of his henge and kicks Noboru off him, rolling onto his hands and knees again.

He dodges the kunoichi’s blade once, then twice, and then he finds an opening to slam himself against her middle and tackle her to the floor. Her head bounces off the edge of the bathtub. She doesn’t get up.

A shuriken grazes his shoulder from behind; the noise must’ve alerted the other two shinobi. They’re hiding in the hallway.

He ducks out of the way of three more shuriken, then grabs his own shuriken from his pocket and throws them into the hallway. One hits something with a squelching noise. Someone screams; the same voice that had yelped before, the nephew.

The fourth shinobi curses loudly. The next moment, a Wind ninjutsu rushes into the bathroom – a blast strong enough to yank Kakashi to his feet and slam him against the wall again. The impact knocks the air out of him, blurs his vision. He can’t breathe.

Someone punches him in the face – the fourth shinobi. Kakashi raises his kunai, but he’s too slow. The shinobi wrenches the weapon from his grip and pins his hand against the wall.

Another punch to his face follows, then another. It’s hard to think while someone’s actively trying to knock him out. Another punch. He should be fighting back, but he’s barely aware of his own body. Another punch. Stars in his vision. He should be fighting back--

His right hand is free, he realizes with a start. The shinobi doesn’t think it’s a threat because it’s splinted. His right hand is free.

With a shout, Kakashi grabs the shinobi by the front of his uniform, drags him to the side and pushes him against the wall. Teeth bared, he presses his right forearm against the shinobi’s throat.

The shinobi keeps his grasp on Kakashi’s left hand. With his other hand, he tries to grab a kunai, but the lack of oxygen messes with his coordination. He only scrabbles at his weapons pouch with his fingernails.

Kakashi stares into his eyes, panting through his teeth like an animal. His wrist is sending brand-new waves of pain up his arm, and his side is bleeding again, and his nose is probably broken – but he fought four shinobi and he’s not dead. He hadn’t thought he’d get this far. He needs to think about what to do next.

He needs to get out of here, that’s clear. Once this shinobi passes out, he needs to disguise himself and find Naruto and get as far away from Konoha as possible--

In his wild moment of relief, he doesn’t notice that Noboru has scrambled back to his feet. A fist strikes him in the jaw.

Kakashi is unconscious before he hits the floor.

Chapter Text

When consciousness starts returning to Kakashi, he’s sitting upright with his chin resting on his chest, and the shinobi are in the middle of a heated discussion that he can’t fully follow through the buzzing in his ears.

He absently observes the sounds, the way the shinobi’s voices are rhythmically drowned out by the thumping of his own heartbeat. He’s… alive. The shinobi didn’t kill him. He’s not sure what to think of that.

He has enough wits about him to know he should pretend he’s still knocked out. So he keeps his eyes closed. His breathing remains even, his muscles slack, even when the pain in his side steadily makes itself known again.

Passively – because he still feels too dazed to summon any emotion stronger than resignation – he observes the wood that’s pressing into against his back, the wire that’s digging into his forearms and shins. He doesn’t think he’s in prison, or at the T&I department; they restrain their captives with metal and seals.

He takes his next breath slowly, trying to get any idea of his surroundings through smell. Through the blood in his nostrils – and the nearby stench of a lit cigarette – he catches the unmistakable smell of instant ramen.

He can’t think of any other place that perpetually smells like that. He’s in Naruto’s kitchen. Tied to one of the kitchen chairs.

A pang of alarm follows, but he calms himself quickly. He’s in Naruto’s kitchen, but Naruto isn’t here. He can’t sense Naruto’s chakra signature, and he has faith that the kid would’ve loudly made his presence known by now if he were here. Guruko hasn’t brought him back yet. Good. Kakashi doesn’t want him here. These shinobi shouldn’t get their hands on him.

They’ve gotten their hands on Kakashi, though. To get revenge, or so they said. And apparently killing him wouldn’t have satisfied their desire for revenge, otherwise they would’ve done it already. Which means they want something else. Maybe information, though that seems unlikely. They probably just want to make him suffer.

He stares at the dark inside of his eyelids, still feeling too detached to worry. He’s been tortured a handful of times before; the time he was caught by Kiri shinobi was the worst, and he survived that too. Konoha shinobi couldn’t put him through anything he hasn’t already been through. Torture and interrogation is part of Kiri’s Academy curriculum. They start learning how to hurt people at the age of four. Konoha shinobi aren’t really taught how to hurt people at all unless they’re T&I specialists, and these shinobi seem far too chaotic to be T&I specialists.

Speaking of chaotic shinobi, their heated discussion seems to be getting increasingly heated. Their voices have gotten loud enough to overpower the buzzing in Kakashi’s ears; the kunoichi seems to be arguing with the shinobi who broke Kakashi’s nose.

“You’ve gone insane,” the kunoichi fumes at the shinobi, interrupting Kakashi’s distracted train of thought. “You, and Noboru, too. You have a lot to learn if revenge is that important to you.”

“Well, I’m sorry that you don’t care about avenging your cousins,” the shinobi snaps back. “I do care. I care about avenging my wife and my sister-in-law.”

“I care,” the kunoichi replies, her tone clipped. “I cared about them. I mourn their deaths. But I do not – damn it – care more about that than about my living family members.”

There’s a tense pause, followed by a quiet sob that matches neither of their voices. It’s the younger shinobi they’d brought with them – the one who’d injured his eye and then got hit by Kakashi’s shuriken. So they haven’t gotten him medical attention. Kakashi is starting to understand what the argument is about.

The kunoichi murmurs something at the boy – Kakashi can’t make out what she’s saying, though her tone is reassuring – before sighing. “Noboru, I mean it,” she says. “He needs help. Now. Stop staring at the missing-nin for two seconds and help.”

“I helped.” Noboru’s voice sounds startlingly nearby; his words are accompanied by the smell of cigarette smoke. Kakashi is sure he remembers stabbing Noboru in the lung, but he doesn’t sound out of breath, and he’s apparently… smoking? That seems ill-advised. “I helped stop the bleeding.”

“That doesn’t help enough, and you know it.”

“I don’t have time--” Noboru starts, voice rising. “I’m in the middle of a mission. Taking out the target is my main priority.”

“Then take out the target,” the kunoichi stresses. “Stop dragging this out.”

Noboru exhales another lungful of smoke. It’s starting to irritate Kakashi’s throat. He’s pretty sure that he’s blowing the smoke into his face on purpose. “No. I’m doing this my way.”

The kunoichi steps towards him. “Hatake is unconscious now anyway,” she hisses. “Take a single moment to help your nephew. He’s--”

As she talks, Noboru takes a long drag from his cigarette and blows more smoke into Kakashi’s face – and, overwhelmed by the burning in his throat, Kakashi coughs.

“Look,” Noboru says. “He’s not unconscious.”

Well, this is not ideal. If Kakashi had been able to keep up the ruse for longer, he might’ve found a way to get himself out of here. Now he’s drawn too much attention to himself.

Ah, well. He’ll have time to figure out an escape plan. If these shinobi wanted him dead, they would’ve killed him already.

He raises his head and opens his eye, only for his vision to remain dark. A blindfold, he realizes. Also not ideal.

“Welcome back to the waking world, Hatake Kakashi,” Noboru says, his voice monotone apart from the emphasis on Kakashi’s name. “That was a nice trick you pulled earlier. You almost got us to believe you were someone else. Very typical behavior for a missing-nin – lying, deceiving, identity theft.” He takes another drag from his cigarette. “Unlike you, I’m a civilized person, so I won’t lie about our identities. We are the people you’ve brought grief with your mindless killing. Myself. My eldest sister’s son. My youngest sister’s husband. Our cousin--”

“Actually,” the kunoichi – cousin, then – interjects curtly, “I don’t want to be part of this anymore. Get your revenge by yourself. I’m going to make sure I don’t lose any more of my family members.”

There’s a pause, then an equally clipped reply from Noboru. “Go, then. Get out of my sight.”

The kunoichi doesn’t answer in her hurry; she quickly directs her attention to the young shinobi. “We’re going to the hospital,” she tells him, in that same reassuring tone from before. “Your uncle has lost his mind. Let’s get you to your feet.”

Kakashi can hear how she pulls the boy upright, and how they shuffle off together, the sound disappearing in the corridor. The heavier footsteps of the other shinobi follow as he steps into the hallway as well and closes the door behind himself, probably to stand guard.

And then it’s quiet. Kakashi becomes aware of the blood rushing in his ears again. Adrenaline prickles in his veins. All of the sensible shinobi have left, and he doesn’t like it. He’s not looking forward to finding out what Noboru is like without his family members holding him back.

Tired of waiting, Kakashi unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth and asks, “So what is it that you want from me?”

Noboru sighs out a long, smoke-heavy breath and puts out the butt of his cigarette on Kakashi’s forearm. Kakashi is careful not to react to the quick pain.

“How about I ask the questions?” Noboru replies, pressing his cigarette down against Kakashi’s skin before flicking it away. Kakashi imagines it landing on the floor, and that pisses him off more than being used as a human ashtray does.

He has no use for his anger, though, so he steers his attention back to the conversation. “Ask away,” he replies flatly. “I’m not a very interesting person, though. All the secrets I know are over a decade old, I don’t have any plans to mess with Konoha, and I’m always alone--”

The back of Noboru’s hand connects with the side of Kakashi’s face. “Don’t lie,” he snaps. “You’re not alone.”

Kakashi’s face throbs sharply, the ache from his already-bruised cheekbone spreading towards his broken nose. He exhales a laugh. “What, the kid?” he asks. “What use would I have for a ten-year-old? He has food that I can eat and an apartment where I can hide, and those are the only things he’s good for. I don’t give half a damn about the kid.”

Kakashi has faith that he can get himself out of this mess somehow, but that alone won’t guarantee Naruto’s safety. If Noboru thinks that Naruto is important to Kakashi, then he’ll try to hurt Naruto to get to Kakashi. Kakashi needs to keep that from happening. He doesn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if he got Naruto hurt like that.

Noboru scoffs. “That’s exactly what I would’ve expected scum like you to say,” he replies. “But, we’re getting off topic. I don’t actually care about any of that.” He grabs the front of Kakashi’s sweater. “There’s only one thing I want to hear out of your mouth.”

Kakashi half expects that it’s screaming that he wants to hear; he instinctively braces himself for pain, but no pain follows. Instead, Noboru brings his face so close to Kakashi’s that he can feel the heat of his breath through his mask and hisses:

“I want you to tell me what you did to my sisters. And don’t lie to me – I’ve seen their corpses.”

Kakashi frowns behind the blindfold. “Why do you need me to tell you, then?” he asks. “You know what I did.”

“Because you missing-nin just kill without thinking about it,” Noboru growls. “I want you to realize what you’ve done.” He tightens his grip on Kakashi’s sweater. “Tell me!”

Kakashi can vividly imagine how this’ll play out; Noboru is starting to lose his composure, and no matter what Kakashi says, it’ll only end up making him angrier. He wants to hurt Kakashi and he wants Kakashi to give him an excuse to do so.

Briefly, he considers staying silent, but he doesn’t see the point in it. He killed this man’s sisters. The least he can do, is show that he gives a damn.

“Their deaths were quick,” he starts, voice low. “I didn’t want them to suffer. I would’ve left them alone if they hadn’t engaged first, but they left me no choice but to go for the kill. They were skilled shinobi.”

The only reward for his honesty is another slap in the face. “Not what I asked,” Noboru snaps. “Tell me what you did to them.”

Kakashi closes his eyes. His face aches, and the unpleasant memory of that fight aches worse. It’d been a messy battle – he hadn’t wanted to fight, but fleeing hadn’t been an option, and the jounin were avoiding eye contact with his Sharingan. He’d been feverish and breathless and outmatched. He’d just wanted to end the fight quickly, quietly.

He takes a breath. Braces himself for whatever hurt will follow after he opens his mouth.

“I slit both of their throats--”

A kunai rips through Kakashi’s jugular.

Genjutsu is his first thought, his mind naive in its panic, his eyes wide open. It’s not genjutsu. It’s never genjutsu. Genjutsu doesn’t work on him.

Oh. Noboru does want him dead.

Blood pours down Kakashi’s shoulders, dripping onto the floor. He’s losing a lot of blood – but not enough for a quick death. If Noboru had wanted that, he would’ve cut open Kakashi’s whole throat, severing his windpipe and the arteries there. He would’ve killed Kakashi the exact same way Kakashi killed his sisters.

Instead, he wants him to bleed out slowly. He wants him to have enough time to realize what’s happening.

He’s cold, his skin crawling. His shock tremulously gives way to terror – an unfamiliar feeling. He’s been tortured before. He’s faced death before. In all of those past experiences, he doesn’t recall ever being scared.

But now, he’s terrified. His thoughts are racing and starting to lose their coherence, but they keep going back to Naruto. Naruto, who will come back from his trip to the pharmacy to find a bloody mess and nothing else. Naruto, who will have lost his chance to get out of this village that’s slowly killing him. Naruto, who will be alone again when Kakashi is gone.

He’d spent all of this time worried that he’d get Naruto killed – he hadn’t really considered the possibility that he would die first. He hadn’t considered that it would be a bad thing. He hadn’t considered that it would probably destroy the kid.

He doesn’t want--

A wave of lightheadedness interrupts his thoughts.

He doesn’t want to die.

But his hands are tied and his mind is quickly fading, and willpower alone will not stop his bleeding. His muscles go slack. He’s dying, he can’t die, he can’t--

Noboru touches his hand to the wound in Kakashi’s throat, not pressing hard enough to staunch the bleeding. Of course he would take the opportunity to mess with the wound, to cause Kakashi just a bit more pain before he’s dead--

The wound is tingling. Warm.

That’s not pain, that’s medical ninjutsu.

In his disbelief, he stays still as Noboru heals the wound in his throat. His mind is still buzzing with horror, his heartrate stuttering to keep up with the adrenaline in his system. His breaths are rasping in his throat.

“Do you get it now?” Noboru asks, his voice sounding far away but the ashtray smell of his breath nearby. “This is what you did to my sisters.”

Kakashi’s own voice sounds far away to his ears as well. “Very-- creative way to make your point.” He’s shuddering. He thinks he might be laughing a little bit, though he wouldn’t be able to tell it apart from sobbing at this point. It’s a damn medic that’s torturing him. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve irony this cruel.

Noboru lays a hand on his shoulder, the blood-soaked fabric of Kakashi’s sweater softly squelching as he squeezes his shoulder hard enough to hurt. “Do you think this is funny?” he snaps. “I should cut your throat again just for that!”

He holds the kunai to Kakashi’s throat, pressing it against the brand-new ridge of scar tissue there. Against his will, Kakashi’s breathing hitches. If Noboru cuts open his throat again – if he loses that much blood again – he’ll bleed to death.

Noboru scoffs at his visible fear, but he lowers the blade. “You’re a coward,” he says. “That’s the only reason why a missing-nin like you could possibly be scared to die. You lot have nothing significant to live for.” He puts the kunai away. “But, fine. I won’t cut your throat again. That isn’t how I want you to die, anyway. I’d like to finish what my sisters started.”

He pulls up Kakashi’s sweater, exposing his stomach. The skin there feels sweaty and cold as ice. Kakashi tries to scrape together the willpower to steel himself for what’s coming, but he feels too numb to even remember how to do that.

Noboru hooks his fingers behind the gauze that’s taped to Kakashi’s side; purely instinctively, he keeps himself from flinching. He doesn’t manage to keep himself from flinching when Noboru pulls away the gauze, the wound protesting fiercely. Drops of sweat are sliding down his back.

He has no doubts that Noboru intends to inflict worse pain than this. He’ll take his time with it, too, probably. If he keeps taking his time, then maybe Naruto will be home before Kakashi is dead. Kakashi can’t tell anymore whether that thought fills him with hope or with fear. Hope, he thinks, actually. If he’s going to die here anyway, he would really hate it if he never saw the kid again.

He doesn’t get the time to consider how horrifying that thought is. What happens next wipes all conscious thought from his mind.

Noboru digs his fingers into the wound.

Kakashi’s stomach turns violently – if there’d been anything left in it, he would’ve thrown up again. He knows there’s no point in fighting back, but he finds himself trying to pull away regardless. The muscles in his upper body move without his permission, desperately searching for a position in which it hurts less.

Noboru briefly lets him writhe before pulling his hand to the left, adding a sharp pain to the rest of the agony. In his breathless horror, Kakashi realizes he’s tearing open the part of the wound that had still been stitched closed. In a moment’s time, he undoes what little healing Kakashi’s body has managed in weeks.

He desperately gasps for breath. “What the Hell kind of medic are you?” he chokes out, and this isn’t the time for insults but he can’t think of anything else to say and he has to say something, because Noboru can’t focus on hurting him if he’s listening. Kakashi needs to distract him, even for a few seconds. He needs time. Time for Naruto to return. Time to catch his breath. More time, more, more--

Noboru takes the bait. “If you know how to heal pain, you know how to cause it,” he replies thoughtfully. “It comes in handy, every now and then.”

The searing pain had hidden it before, but Kakashi now suddenly notices that the wound feels like it’s filled with static. Medical ninjutsu again.

In his confusion, he stills. The sensation of static spreads slowly through his abdomen, from the wound towards Kakashi’s navel and then even further to the left. And then it just sits there, warm in a way that is disturbingly pleasant.

Kakashi blames it on the blood loss, but it takes him a long time to understand where this is going. He instinctively wants to believe that Noboru is healing him, but that’s not his intention in the slightest. Medical ninjutsu is just the art of using chakra to manipulate tissue. It doesn’t have to be used for healing.

The realization comes just in time to flood Kakashi’s systems with panic before his suspicion is confirmed.

An all-consuming pain tears through his abdomen, worse than anything he’s felt before. Everything else abruptly disappears; he can’t feel the chair pressing into his back anymore, nor the wire digging into his limbs, nor his heart stuttering in his chest. He can’t smell the mix of blood-ramen-ashtray that he’s been breathing in this whole time.

Kakashi is left floating in an abyss with nothing but his agony and two realizations:

Firstly, Noboru is trying to use his chakra to rip apart Kakashi’s insides.

And secondly, Kakashi is not only going to die in Naruto’s apartment, he’s going to die here screaming.

Another wave of pain drags him back into reality, just in time to feel himself lose all control over his body, his back arching and his fingers clawing at the air. Every breath he manages to drag into his lungs comes out as a strangled cry.

So this is how he’ll end. He’s too far gone to keep the sob out of his voice. He won’t be able to get Naruto out of Konoha. He hopes the kid will understand how sorry he is for breaking that promise.

Noboru starts to laugh, the sound filled with genuine glee. Kakashi somehow musters the willpower to swallow back his next cry in protest.

He guesses he blacks out from the effort, because when he takes his next conscious breath, Noboru is no longer laughing and someone is shouting – no, snarling, growling – Kakashi’s name.

And, all caution thrown to the wind in his near-delirious relief, Kakashi mumbles:

“Kid? Is that you?”

Chapter Text

After two hours of looking for Team Gai, Naruto gives up.

He should’ve given up much earlier, in hindsight. He should’ve given up after he went by the Mission Assignment Desk and discovered that Team Gai left for Kusa earlier this morning, and that they’ll be out of the village for at least the next month.

He hadn’t given up because he’d convinced himself it couldn’t be true – it wouldn’t be the first time adult shinobi lied to him just to spite him. So he’d spent a bunch of time frantically running around Konoha to see if he could maybe catch a glimpse of them somewhere. Gai kind of stood out, after all.

But he wasn’t at the library, or at the Hokage Rock, or on any of the training grounds, and Naruto couldn’t spot him through the windows of the Jounin Standby Station either. By the time Naruto confirmed that he wasn’t at Ichiraku’s either – which was already a long shot, since they hadn’t really opened for the day yet – he felt so defeated that he just decided to stay there and wait for the pharmacy to open. He’d told Kakashi that he’d bring back meds and he’d intended to bring back something better, but going home with meds is still better than going home empty-handed, after all.

So he sits on a stool, swinging his legs restlessly and slurping a bowl of plain ramen. Ayame is the only other person in the restaurant; she’s doing her chores, getting the restaurant ready for the day. Naruto keeps offering to help, and Ayame keeps kindly informing him that she wouldn’t trust him to boil water, let alone to do much else. Naruto is eighty percent sure she only gave him the ramen to get him to shut up. Not that he minds it much. Ramen is ramen, even when served plain and with sort-of-rude intentions. Naruto is sort-of-rude right back and keeps stealing the tail ends of spring onions and radishes while Ayame is chopping them. She definitely notices, but she doesn’t say anything and doesn’t move her cutting board out of Naruto’s reach.

He gets tired of being annoying on purpose after a while, though; with a sigh, he puts his chopsticks down and leans his chin on his hand. Ayame glances up at him from her spring onions. “Something on your mind?” she asks.

Naruto grumbles. “A lot.”

“Is it about your friend?” she asks. “The one that was sick?”

It feels like it’s been a lifetime, but it’s barely been a week – Naruto had almost forgotten that Ayame knew there was someone he was trying to help, and also that she’s one of the main reasons Kakashi survived his pneumonia. “Yeah,” he says.

“He’s not still sick, is he?”

“No. The meds helped. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.” Ayame grabs a handful of radishes and starts to cut them into neat slices. “But there’s still something up with your friend, isn’t there?”

Naruto leans his cheek further against his hand. “A lot,” he says again, his voice muffled against his hand. “He’s not okay and I hate that there’s not really anything I can do about it. I don’t really want to talk about it, though.”

Ayame hums in understanding. “I wish I had some advice I could give you,” she says. “But my dad’s the one with the deep wisdom, not me. Sorry.”

Even the deepest wisdom in the world wouldn’t be able to close Kakashi’s wound and make him okay again. Only a medical-nin could do that. “No worries,” he says with a weary shrug. “My friend seems to think that it’ll all work out eventually, somehow, so I guess I just need to hope he’s--”

Ayame suddenly looks up from her cutting board, distracted by something behind Naruto. Naruto turns around to look as well – at first glance, it seems like there’s nothing there, but then Naruto notices a shape on the ground, obscured by the fog. It’s moving towards them.

“--right,” Naruto finishes belatedly. “Is that… a dog?”

A small brown-and-white dog emerges from the fog, shakes out its fur and urgently trots up to Naruto. Naruto stares down at it, fascinated. Animals don’t like him very much. This might be the first time an animal has willingly come near him.

The dog sniffs at Naruto’s sandals, then makes a little grumbling noise and bites firmly into the leg of Naruto’s pants.

“Hey!” Naruto exclaims, trying to pull away. The dog doesn’t let go. “Hey, what the Hell?”

With another grumble, the dog takes a couple of steps backwards, pulling Naruto’s leg along. Naruto has to hold on to the waist of his pants to keep the dog from pulling down his pants.

“Stop that! Down! Sit!” Naruto tries, to no avail; he swears the dog shakes its head.

In the corner of his eye, he can see that Ayame is trying very hard not to laugh. “I think it wants you to come along,” she says.

Naruto looks between her and the dog, then sighs. “Yeah. I’ll talk to you later then, I guess.” He gets down from his stool, careful not to step on the dog. He’s exasperated, in a way. This clearly isn’t a normal dog; his best guess is that it’s Kakashi in henge-disguise, which probably means he couldn’t stay at the apartment anymore for some reason. Naruto had sort of hoped that this morning wouldn’t get any worse than it already was.

With a final wave at a very amused Ayame, he leaves Ichiraku’s, the dog dragging him down the street by his pant leg. He tries to talk to the dog a couple of times, but the dog doesn’t answer. Maybe not Kakashi, then?

He considers the possibility of this being a prank for a couple of streets, before he realizes that he recognizes this route. The dog is leading him back to his own apartment. Somehow, he has a bad feeling about that.

When the apartment building comes into view, the dog suddenly halts, digging its paws into the ground. Naruto almost falls over. “What’re you doing?” he asks. “Did you change your mind or something?”

Hesitantly, the dog looks from Naruto to the entrance of the apartment building, and then drags Naruto into the narrow alleyway off to the side of the building. Once they’re hidden behind a pile of trash bags, the dog finally lets go of Naruto’s pant leg.

“What was that about--” Naruto starts, but he snaps his mouth shut when the dog finally speaks and interrupts him.

“I need you to listen to me,” the dog says urgently, “very carefully.”

Naruto stares at him. “Uhm.” He narrows his eyes. “Kakashi-san?”

“No,” the dog replies, and Naruto feels a bit dumb. “My name is Guruko. I was sent by Kakashi to find you.” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Listen. I can sense that there’s someone standing guard at your front door – there might be more people inside the apartment, but I can’t tell for sure. I think Kakashi is in trouble.”

The hairs on the back of Naruto’s neck rise. While he’d been running around Konoha and killing time at Ichiraku’s, he’d left Kakashi to deal with trouble by himself. He’d left Kakashi to deal with trouble by himself while he was in a bunch of pain and feeling like shit.

He balls his fists at his sides. “We’ve got to help him.”

“No, I’ve got to help him,” Guruko says with a stern look towards Naruto. “Kakashi told me to keep you out of danger. I’m doing this by myself and you’re staying right here.”

“But you’re just a little dog,” Naruto protests. “I can help--”

“I’m a ninja hound and I’m older than you in dog years,” Guruko shoots back. By the time Naruto has opened his mouth to argue, Guruko has already run off.

Alone in the alleyway, Naruto shuffles his feet anxiously. He can’t stay here. He has to go help, no matter how dangerous it is.

He folds his hands into the long array of signs Kakashi taught him – he has to start over a couple of times because he messes up in his haste, but he eventually succeeds in concealing his chakra. Unable to stand still for even a second longer, he rushes into the apartment building, pulling out his kunai as he runs up the stairs.

When he reaches the floor his apartment is on, he’s met with the sounds of barking and someone cursing loudly.

A tall man in shinobi uniform half-runs-half-falls down the stairs, Guruko biting harshly into his neck. Naruto has to jump out of the shinobi’s path; as he does so, the shinobi topples forward and drops down the stairs, slamming face-first into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He doesn’t move again after that.

With a huff, Guruko lets go of the shinobi’s neck and shakes out his fur. He scowls at Naruto and walks back up the stairs, towards him. “You were supposed to stay outside,” he says. “I can handle this by myself. See?” He nods his head towards the still shinobi at the bottom of the stairs.

“Extremely cool,” Naruto says, and he even means it. “But I think we should probably tie him up before he wakes up, and one of us is able to do that and it’s not you.”

With a grumble of “reckless little brat”, Guruko allows him to tie the shinobi’s hands and legs together with some scraps of fabric that Naruto cuts from the guy’s uniform. As he works, Guruko cautiously explores the hallway. He returns to the stairwell with a bigger scowl than he’d had before.

“That guard was the only one,” he reports.

Naruto tightens the makeshift rope around the shinobi’s ankles. “That’s good, right?”

“It’s irresponsible, mostly,” Guruko replies. “Whoever it is that’s in your apartment, they either think they’re invincible or they don’t care that they could die.” He shakes his head. “But I can’t sense anyone’s chakra in there, so I don’t know anything else about them at all.”

Naruto silently curses the chakra-concealing seals he and Kakashi had put up. “So they’re cocky and probably dangerous, and we have no idea how many there are,” he sums up. “Great. So what do we do--”

Guruko’s ears twitch, and he bares his teeth. “Shh,” he hisses urgently.

Naruto stills, raising his head to try and listen for whatever Guruko heard. There’s a second or so of silence before he hears it, faint but unmistakeable – a far-too-familiar voice, crying out.

White noise replaces all thought in Naruto’s head. He leaps up the stairs, rushing towards his front door. Guruko bites into his pants – clipping his calf with his teeth in his haste – but Naruto tears himself loose. He’s being reckless, and he doesn’t care. He could be running into a room with a thousand shinobi and he still wouldn’t care.

He pushes the door open. He turns towards the kitchen, as though he instinctively already knew that Kakashi was there – and he stops dead in his tracks.

Through the doorway to the kitchen, Naruto can see Kakashi.

Kakashi, tied to a chair, blindfolded, limp, quiet, and covered in blood--

--and there’s a shinobi standing over him.

“Kakashi-san,” Naruto breathes, frozen in his shock, and he has no idea what exactly happens from that moment on.

Something snaps behind his bellybutton, a white-hot sensation that feels like his rage tore the seams of an organ. Immediately, his rage increases tenfold. His vision turns at once entirely orange, the color swirling and bubbling furiously.

He can feel his fingers curl into claws, his face twist into a snarl. A roar rips through his throat – a raw sound he’s never heard himself make before, all traces of his own friendliness and excitability and optimism gone.

“Kakashi!”

In hindsight, Kakashi thinks there may have been a couple of seconds between the moment he heard Naruto snarl and the moment Kakashi managed to respond. It’s hard to keep track of abstract concepts like time and chronology while his consciousness is threatening to slip from his grasp.

He knows, at least, that Naruto growls his name at some point. Noboru shouts, and a dog barks, followed by the tell-tale poof of a summoned animal disappearing. He also hears a squelching noise and the thud of a body hitting the floor.

And--

And he realizes that he can sense the Nine-Tails’ chakra. Nearby enough to make his skin crawl, and to make his heart skip every other beat.

He has no idea of the order in which these events happen, or if they happen at all. His mind has been through a lot in the past half hour – he wouldn’t be surprised if all of this was a product of his panicked imagination.

He’s alert enough to realize that maybe none of this is real, but he’s too out of it to believe that it is. “Kid,” he repeats, because he cannot let himself consider the possibility that Naruto isn’t truly here. That would be too cruel. “Are you there? Talk to me.”

He can hear someone panting nearby – it sounds like Naruto, he thinks, though it’s hard to differentiate between what he’s perceiving and what he’s hoping. No response follows.

“Say something,” Kakashi tries, already out of breath. “Are you-- okay? Naruto.”

At his name, Naruto gasps sharply, and the near-suffocating feeling of the Nine-Tails’ chakra abruptly lessens, but doesn’t disappear. A few quick footsteps follow, and the next moment, the blindfold is pulled off Kakashi’s face.

As Kakashi blinks against the light, Naruto wrestles himself out of his jacket and presses it against the bleeding wound in Kakashi’s side. Kakashi collapses around his stomach with a choked groan, only held upright by the wire that still ties his arms to the chair. He hadn’t realized, but his brain had allowed him to forget about the pain for a few blissful seconds, dazed from the blood loss and the fainting and the multiple near-death experiences as it was. It would’ve been nice if the sudden jolt of pain had lifted some of the fog in his skull, but it doesn’t.

Naruto murmurs an apology, his eyebrows furrowed. There’s still something wild about his face, something angry, his eyes wide and his upper lip pulled back into a snarl. This close by, Kakashi can feel the kid’s agitated chakra prickle against his skin. He’s panting through his too-sharp teeth like an animal.

“You’re breathing really fast,” Kakashi tells him in a whisper, and it’s probably not the most important thing right now but it feels important to him anyway. “Did you notice?”

Naruto looks up at him, quickly returning his attention to the wound. “Pot calling the kettle black,” he replies. His voice is rough, gruff, not the voice of a child.

Kakashi acknowledges his point with a half-shrug. “We should-- probably calm down, huh?”

They have a little bit of time, he thinks; he can’t sense anybody nearby, just a bunch of people on the street outside, moving away from them, which is weird but at least they’re safe for now. Noboru is not a threat anymore – he’s lying on the floor, not breathing, his uniform soaked with blood in the center of his chest. Kakashi didn’t see how Naruto killed him, but he does know that the kid’s kunai is lying in the doorway and that there’s more blood on Naruto’s hands than just Kakashi’s own.

It worries Kakashi deeply, enough so that he can’t seem to summon any worry about everything else. Naruto is upset and Kakashi doesn’t want him to be. He’s seen Naruto upset before, but never upset enough to unleash the Nine-Tails’ chakra and kill a man with his bare hands.

Naruto is looking up at Kakashi again. His eyes are the wrong color, though it’s hard to see when Kakashi’s vision won’t focus. He appears to be waiting for Kakashi to speak.

“Untie my hands,” Kakashi says, “would you?”

Naruto looks at Kakashi’s hands, and then at his own hands, which are still pressing his jacket against Kakashi’s slowly-bleeding side. His frown increases. “Don’t want to let go.”

Kakashi really doesn’t feel like arguing when his head feels heavy like this. “Just do it, yeah?”

With a grumble, Naruto raises one hand from Kakashi’s side and snaps the wire around Kakashi’s arms with his bare hands, which shouldn’t logically be possible. Quickly, he presses his hand against Kakashi’s wound again, staring down at it with a scowl. He’s possibly breathing even faster than before.

Wordlessly, Kakashi raises a heavy arm and – slowly, making sure his movements are predictable – rests his hand on Naruto’s head. “Slow breaths,” he murmurs. “We’re okay. It was scary for a while there, but we’re okay. There’s no point in freaking out, all right?”

Those reminders are just as much for himself as they are for Naruto. He’s alive. Naruto is alive. Kakashi can still feel the ghost of his terror underneath his skin, but when he focuses, he can force his relief to overshadow it. Naruto is right here in front of him. The kid managed to interrupt Noboru before he could succeed in ripping Kakashi’s guts to shreds. He’s still in a lot of pain and in a lot of trouble, but things could’ve been a lot worse. He needs to remind himself of that, because if he lets himself freak out right now, that sure as Hell won’t help.

The blood loss makes it hard to slow down his breathing, but at least he gets it slow enough to stop his heart from feeling like it’s going to burst. Naruto leans his head into Kakashi’s hand, and Kakashi rubs his thumb in slow circles, hoping that it’ll help the kid calm down. Naruto’s chakra feels like static against his skin and everything in Kakashi – both his instincts and his previous experience with the Nine-Tails – is screaming at him to run, is screaming that this is the monster that killed two people who were like family to him and that Kakashi should get away, but Kakashi ignores all of that. He can hardly bring himself to care, when Naruto is trembling underneath his hand.  

Eventually, Naruto’s breathing slowly calms down. As he gets his panic under control, his chakra calms down as well. The Nine-Tails’ chakra disappears, his own chakra remaining neatly hidden underneath his chakra-concealing seal.

Kakashi hadn’t even been trying to help Naruto get the Nine-Tails’ chakra under control, but he’s glad that it worked. He knew that the Nine-Tails’ seal could loosen because of strong negative emotions, and thankfully, it just so happens that he knows a thing or two about handling strong negative emotions.

Naruto looks up at him, and Kakashi responds with his best attempt at a smile. “Feeling better?” he asks. Naruto’s eyes are blue again.

Naruto’s chin dips down in a hesitant nod. “What… happened to me?” he asks, his voice shaky. “That was-- really weird. It feels like I passed out for a bit there, up until you said my name earlier.” His eyes widen; “I lost sight of Guruko-- Do you think he’s okay?”

“Guruko’s fine,” Kakashi replies. “Judging by what I heard, he probably took a blow during a fight. Summoned animals can’t stay summoned when that happens, but they don’t get hurt, just like clones. He’s fine, just home.” He nods towards Naruto. “As for what happened to you… You released some of the Nine-Tails’ chakra. It probably took control over you for a couple of seconds. Let’s not dwell on that for too long right now. We’ll figure it out later.”

Naruto nods again, then chews on his lower lip uncertainly. “So what now?” he asks. “We can’t stay here anymore, can we?”

“No, we can’t.” Kakashi’s tone is grim. “My location’s been compromised, multiple living shinobi have seen me in your apartment, and if anyone finds out that you killed a Konoha shinobi, then--”

Naruto’s head whips around to Noboru’s body on the floor, his face blanching like he’s only now seeing the corpse for the first time.

“Don’t look, kid,” Kakashi says somberly. He leaves it at that; he could tell Naruto that Noboru wasn’t a good person anyway, but he knows that that won’t make it right. And he certainly won’t tell Naruto that Noboru was a medical-nin.

Slowly, Naruto shifts his gaze back to Kakashi. “I don’t-- I don’t--” he stammers. “I don’t remember killing him-- I just-- I saw you and I saw him and I got so mad-- and then I blinked and there was blood on my hands and you were saying my name-- I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear--”

“Slow breaths,” Kakashi reminds him gently. “What’s done is done. We can freak out about all of this later, but right now, we need to focus on getting out of here.”

Naruto takes a breath and holds it, then nods. “We should-- Yeah, we should leave.”

As though to emphasize that point, there’s a bone-rattling slam in the bedroom: the sound of the paper bomb at the window going off.

Naruto ducks instinctively; Kakashi’s ears ring from the explosion. He grabs Naruto’s shoulder. “Henge, now,” he says urgently. Someone tried to force the window open – completely silently, and with their chakra signature hidden. Bad news. “That was an ANBU shinobi. We need to go.”

By some stroke of miracle, Naruto doesn’t ask any questions and remembers the hand signs for his henge. As he disguises himself as a girl, like they practiced, and unties Kakashi’s legs, Kakashi tries to fold his uncooperative right hand into the dozen signs that are needed to hide his chakra signature and disguise himself. His wrist hurts more than it did before, so he’s slow, but he manages eventually.

His henge is in place just in time – the ANBU emerges from the bedroom with a cloud of dust and smoke. Kakashi instinctively tries to get to his feet, expecting entirely that he’ll have to defend himself, but the ANBU just pauses and stares.

“What the--” he starts, and Kakashi has the bewildered realization that he hadn’t seen an ANBU this rattled since he was in ANBU himself. “Where’s-- the Nine-Tailed Fox?”

Naruto looks up at Kakashi with wide eyes. Kakashi feels almost like laughing. He’d feared that the ANBU was here for Kakashi himself, but that’s not the case. He’s here for the Nine-Tails.

The chakra-concealing seals they’d put up in the apartment must’ve been too weak to stop the Nine-Tails’ chakra – the people he’d sensed on the street before must’ve sensed the Fox’ chakra and must’ve followed the protocol of evacuating immediately and reporting to the Hokage. More ANBU will be sent to investigate the possible threat, if Kakashi remembers the last appearance of the Nine-Tails correctly. If Kakashi and Naruto don’t get out of here quickly, they’ll be discovered in the middle of the crime scene that is Naruto’s apartment by dozens of ANBU on top of this one. Their disguises wouldn’t get them out of a predicament like that. They should hurry.

Kakashi doubts that Naruto has exactly the same train of thought as he had, but the kid does take action. “I don’t know where the Nine-Tailed Fox is,” he says, in that little innocent voice he’d been perfecting. “We heard a lot of noise in here and we came to see what was going on, but…” He lets his voice trail off and gestures at Noboru’s dead body on the floor.

The ANBU looks over at the body, still blinking the dust from his eyes, and Naruto hurls the nearest heavy object – the kettle – at the ANBU’s head. It’s not enough to knock him out immediately, but Naruto next launches himself at the stunned ANBU and slams his head against the doorframe. The ANBU slides limply to the floor.

“He didn’t even see it coming!” Naruto crows triumphantly, scrambling up from where he’d landed on the floor. “That guy was distracted.”

“The fear of the Nine-Tails will do that to people,” Kakashi replies, trying and failing to haul himself out of the kitchen chair with a grunt of pain. It’s not just his side that’s hurting; the pain spreads all the way through his abdomen. He would’ve probably been fine if he could’ve stayed put, but he can’t. This is going to suck. “Let’s go, kid. Help me get up, would you?”

Naruto had had certain expectations of what it would be like to get out of Konoha. In a way, he’d expected that he’d have to fight his way out of the village; that every shinobi in the village would’ve somehow sensed his intentions of leaving, despite the stealth skills Kakashi had drilled into him, and that they would come to stop him all at once. He’d mentally prepared himself for a very difficult endeavor.

And, oh, it’s difficult all right, but not in the way he’d expected. He hadn’t foreseen that the most difficult part of this endeavor would be to get down the stairs of the apartment building.

Kakashi is leaning almost his entire weight on Naruto, his chest heaving and his eyes screwed tightly shut from the pain. And he’s heavy. Even like this, even transformed into a frail little old man. He can’t weigh very much more than Naruto himself in this form, but he’s more than heavy enough to make it a struggle to keep him upright.

They’ve almost made it down the first flight of stairs – the first of three, they’re not even halfway downstairs – when Kakashi’s knees buckle, weak from the blood loss, and Naruto only barely manages to keep him from smacking face-first into the wall like that one shinobi did earlier. That shinobi is gone, by the way, Naruto absently notices. He probably somehow managed to untie himself and got the Hell out of here when he sensed the Nine-Tails’ chakra.

“Couldn’t you have transformed into a lighter form?” Naruto grumbles, hauling Kakashi’s arm properly around his shoulders again.

Kakashi muffles a groan behind his teeth, his other arm wrapped around his stomach. “Would’ve cost more chakra,” he grits out, and Naruto is sure he’d wanted to say more but the rest of his explanation dissolves into a hiss. “Agh--”

Naruto pauses to let him catch his breath, impatiently bouncing in place. He’s not sure whether it’s the Nine-Tails’ influence or something else, but he’s anxious. He’s used to feeling jittery, but this is something else. It feels like his senses are more sensitive.

They’re so sensitive that he can hear quiet footsteps on the stairs a floor below them. Naruto turns to Kakashi, startled. “Hey, someone’s coming--”

Someone turns out to be a whole squad of ANBU, running very quietly up the stairs. Naruto sees them coming and has the startled thought that maybe this is it, maybe he’ll have to fight his way out of the village after all, but the ANBU just rush past them.

One of the ANBU separates himself from the group and approaches Naruto and Kakashi hurriedly. “Why are you still inside?” he asks. “Didn’t you sense the Nine-Tailed Fox’ chakra? Everyone else in the building has already fled.”

Naruto looks between him and Kakashi, expecting Kakashi to speak, but he seems to be too busy trying not to pass out. Apparently it’s Naruto’s responsibility to talk their way out of this. He’s forgotten the cover story he’d used before, so he crosses his fingers and hopes this new batch of bullshit will be enough to convince the ANBU to leave them alone.

“Mister,” he huffs, “I’d love to stand here and chat about it, but I had to drag my grandpa here off the crapper for this and he wasn’t actually done on the crapper, so if you’ll excuse us, we’re in a bit of a hurry--”

Wordlessly, the ANBU ducks underneath Kakashi’s arm to take his weight and scoops Naruto underneath his other arm – by the time Naruto’s able to open his mouth to protest, they’re already standing outside on the street and the ANBU has rushed back to the rest of his squad. He’s carried Naruto and Kakashi all the way to the front door of the library with a Body-Flicker; probably the first public bathroom he could think of. The street is empty.

Kakashi leans against the wall with an exasperated wheeze that Naruto deduces was probably meant to be a laugh. “That was-- more crude than I would’ve liked, but it worked,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Thanks very much for shattering what was left of my dignity.”

“You’re very welcome,” Naruto replies, grabbing his arm again to drag him upright. “Let’s go, grandpa.”

The streets get busier the farther away they get from the apartment building; chuunin are guiding hordes of civilians, old people and kids towards the shelter in the Hokage Rock. Naruto and Kakashi would’ve fit right in, but they don’t try to blend in with the crowds – they need to go in exactly the opposite direction, after all, towards the village’s gates.

They make their way through backstreets and alleys, avoiding the people. Naruto catches glimpses of the fleeing groups, though. He hears their nervous murmuring, sees the haunted looks on the adults’ faces. He observes it with a sort of morbid fascination, not sure how to feel about it.

“Are all of these people really that afraid of the Nine-Tails?” Naruto asks Kakashi, figuring that it’s an inconspicuous enough thing to ask. “They’re evacuating and they didn’t even see him.”

Kakashi gives a thoughtful hum, his gaze focused in front of him. “Yeah,” he only says. “Yeah, they are that afraid.”

“Oh,” Naruto says. “Are you?”

“I think so.” He glances towards Naruto. “But not in the same way I used to be.”

Whatever the heck that means. Kakashi doesn’t seem intent on elaborating, and he still seems pretty out of it, so Naruto doesn’t push him.

They continue on their way in silence, undetected and undisturbed. They need to cut across a group of people a couple of times, which is shockingly easy; their disguises serve them well. They don’t stand out in the slightest, and Kakashi’s grandpa-with-a-stomachache disguise is especially convincing, hunched over himself and shambling as he is. The glances they get from passersby are concerned, not suspicious, and people get out of the way when Naruto asks.

They pause for a moment near the gates, hidden around a corner so that they can observe the gates before they make a run for it. Their worry is unfounded; in the chaos, the guards have left their post, probably helping out with the evacuation efforts or reporting to the Hokage. There’s nobody around the gates.

It’s still nerve-wracking to cross the distance to the woods, though, especially since Kakashi can’t move very fast at all. Naruto walks a bit faster than he probably should, dragging Kakashi along. Kakashi’s breath comes in sharp, quick gasps, his jaw clenched and his hand tight around his stomach, but he doesn’t say anything and he tries his best to keep up. He seems like he’s getting more tired, more shaky, though he seems determined to keep it together.

They stumble a couple of times, but they make it through the gates. The autumny orange color of the forest greets them, pale in the fog, along with the smell of fallen leaves and mud. Naruto had missed it.

From there, Kakashi points Naruto in the direction of the nearest civilian village; he’s planning on hiding out in an inn there until he’s recovered some of his strength. Naruto remembers that he’d explained that plan to him before, though Naruto himself hadn’t been part of the plan back then yet. He feels like it’s a good thing that Kakashi isn’t out here by himself. He’s increasingly unsteady on his feet, and he can’t keep his eyes open for longer than a few seconds at a time because he keeps squeezing them shut in pain. It appears that he’s counting on Naruto to steer them in the right direction, and Naruto does his best.

It goes fairly okay. Naruto accidentally loses their path a couple of times in the fog, and he sometimes leads them through patches of nettles or slippery mud, and once he almost drops Kakashi right into a thorny bush, but it could’ve been a lot worse. He’s almost starting to believe that this – their navigational issues, the mud, the thorny bushes – is as bad as it’s going to get, that they’ve actually made it outside Konoha without any real trouble at all.

They’ve made it a decent distance away from Konoha when Kakashi suddenly utters an urgent whine, his heels digging into the ground. “Stop,” he grits out – it startles Naruto, because he hadn’t heard Kakashi speak in a pretty long time. Must be really important.

“Enemies?” Naruto hisses, his head whipping around and his free hand already reaching for his pocket, for the kunai he left at his apartment.

Kakashi shakes his head, clasping his hand across his mouth. His henge is already fading when he clumsily falls to his knees on the forest floor; Naruto isn’t sure he dropped the jutsu on purpose. He yanks down his mask, and Naruto quickly turns his back to him to avoid seeing his face.

“Gonna hurl?” he asks. He tries to keep his tone casual to hide his anxiety. He’s not sure if it’s working.

“Think so.” Kakashi’s voice is breathy. “Stomach hurts-- really bad--”

His words are interrupted by the sound of him throwing up, and Naruto bounces nervously on his feet. He’s trying to stand guard, to keep an eye on his surroundings until Kakashi feels okay enough to move again, but he really can’t seem to focus.

Kakashi has never said anything about his stomach hurting before, has he? It was always his side, and the pain in his side made him nauseous, but he never mentioned that his stomach hurt. Maybe that shinobi did something to him; Naruto hasn’t really had the opportunity to ask. He really hopes that’s not the case. The open wound in his side is bad enough. If Kakashi got even more hurt than that, that would really suck--

“Well,” Kakashi croaks out, interrupting Naruto’s thoughts. “That’s… not good.”

Naruto whirls around, because surely this time Kakashi did spot enemies, and Naruto is ready to fight – but there are no enemies in sight. It takes him a moment to realize that Kakashi isn’t reacting to their surroundings, but rather to the dark puddle on the ground in front of him. He wipes at his mouth with his sleeve and, hand impossibly steady, pulls up his mask again. His face is grayish. There’s a dark smear on his sleeve.

“Uhm,” Naruto hears himself say, his voice far away to his own ears and yet ringing out in the quiet, “Kakashi-san, did you just puke blood?”

Chapter Text

“Kakashi-san, did you just… puke blood?”

The forest around them is quiet, so quiet and still and pale, and so is Kakashi. He seems almost like he’s become part of the forest, his knees rooted to the ground and his back bent like a gnarly old tree. Naruto’s question hangs in the air between them with the fog.

“Kakashi,” Naruto tries again, his politeness forgotten in his worry.

At last, Kakashi’s eye flickers up to him, though it immediately squeezes shut with pain. “Yeah,” he breathes, hastily like he’s only processing Naruto’s question now. “Yeah, that’s… that’s blood.” He blinks a couple of times, like he’s trying to clear his head, then braces his good hand on his knee and shakily tries to push himself upright.

“Whoa, hang on,” Naruto reacts, rushing over to steady him. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit down for a moment? You just puked blood.” He has no idea what exactly that means, but he’s sure it can’t be healthy.

Kakashi shakes his head, a deep line between his eyebrows in the center of his grayish face. He’s leaning heavily on Naruto. Naruto can feel his chest heave against his shoulder. “No time,” he replies in between his gasps for breath. “We should move.”

Something about the urgency in Kakashi’s voice scares Naruto to his core. He needs no further urging to start walking, and so he does, though Kakashi stays put. When Naruto looks up at him, puzzled, Kakashi gives him a tired smile.

“Other direction,” he says quietly. “We need to go back to Konoha.”

Naruto is instantly sweaty all over. Going back sounds like a bad idea, and he’s terrified to find out why they’re changing plans all of a sudden. Why going back has suddenly become a good idea – or, at least, better than whatever alternative it is that’s going on right now.

Naruto doesn’t understand much of it, but he trusts Kakashi’s judgement, so he turns around and starts walking, doing his best to carry some of Kakashi’s weight. “So we’re turning back now,” he says, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. “Why?”

It takes Kakashi a couple of seconds to gather the breath to answer; Naruto knows he shouldn’t bother him with his questions right now, but he’s very aware that he doesn’t understand any of this and it’s freaking him out.

Finally, Kakashi speaks. “Do you remember-- that I told you about my friend Gai?”

Naruto suddenly really doesn’t like where this is going. He nods silently.

“Well, I think-- I think we should go and ask him for help.” He’s got that tired smile on his face again; Naruto can see it in the corner of his eye. “You said one of his students knows medical ninjutsu, right?”

Naruto feels like putting his fist through something. For a brief, childish moment, he despises the entirety of Team Gai with every fibre in his body – hates them for leaving, for forcing him to destroy Kakashi’s hope right now – before the feeling fades back into despair. “They’re not in the village right now,” he says, quietly. “They’ll be out on a mission for the next month or so.”

Naruto had been devastated when he found out about that – he’s sure Kakashi must feel even worse about it, though outwardly he only closes his eye and sighs. “I see.” He swallows difficultly. “You went looking for them, then?”

“Yeah.” Naruto’s voice feels thick in his throat. “This morning. I know you didn’t want me to, and I know I said I wouldn’t, and I’m sorry I went looking for them anyway. I don’t like that I did that.” He doesn’t like that he broke his promise, but in a way, he also doesn’t like that he found out that Team Gai is unreachably far away. Maybe, if he hadn’t known, they would’ve still had some hope here. “And I’m sorry I left you alone--”

“Don’t apologize,” Kakashi replies with a shake of his head. “For any of that. You did well.”

“So what now?” Naruto asks when Kakashi doesn’t continue. Kakashi doesn’t seem to have any other plans, and something about that is scaring Naruto. They’re still walking, but Naruto gets the sense that neither of them know what their destination should be. “Do you think… you’ll be okay without their help?”

Kakashi smiles again, the curve of his cheek not matching the dark shadow underneath his eye, the emptiness in his gaze.

“I’m bleeding internally,” he replies quietly. “Without medical attention, I don’t think I’ll make it.”

Something goes ice-cold in the center of Naruto’s chest. He’s never heard Kakashi talk like this before. Not when he was starving to death, not when his fever almost killed him, not when his side wouldn’t heal. He must be hurt really, really bad, and Naruto still feels like he understands none of this.

“That shinobi in my apartment,” he asks, “did he--”

“Yeah,” Kakashi replies. “He did.”

“And now you’re--”

“Yeah.” Kakashi huffs a wet-sounding laugh, his voice going up a bit at the end with poorly-concealed horror. “Yeah, I am.”

Anger crawls up Naruto’s throat; quickly, he swallows it back down. He doesn’t understand much but he does know that he really doesn’t want to summon the Nine-Tails again, not here and now.

Instead, he lets his emotion fuel his footsteps. “We need to go find a medic,” he states, his feet stomping on the ground. “I know you said that it’d be dangerous, but I don’t care. We’ll figure something out.”

Kakashi looks like he wants to protest, but he doesn’t. He seems to realize that the risk is worth it, now – better than the alternative. Whatever medical-nin they find might kill him, but it’s better than trying nothing, which will kill him.

They continue on their way towards Konoha. Naruto has to keep reminding himself to slow down; Kakashi can’t keep up if he walks too fast. He’s more unsteady on his feet than before, occasionally stumbling on the uneven forest floor. His breathing is fast and shallow, sometimes with an extra gasp in between, like he’s struggling to keep up with the amount of air his body needs. Naruto isn’t sure whether that’s actually what’s happening, but the idea is too upsetting to let go of.

The forest around him keeps blurring into smudged orange shapes, his eyes filled with barely-contained tears. He tries to use the silence to think up a plan, but he can’t seem to focus. Doesn’t matter. He’ll make it work somehow. He has to make it work.

Kakashi’s breathing hitches suddenly, and then again, and again a few seconds later. He’d been stubbornly bearing his pain with little more than a frown and a grimace, but it seems that his pain is starting to get the best of him now.

Naruto has just opened his mouth to ask if he needs a break when Kakashi’s legs give out and he drops to the ground. Naruto is pulled along in his fall and rolls into a pile of fallen leaves; he quickly scrambles to his feet again, brown-orange leaves sticking from his hair. He’s dropped his henge, though he barely notices. 

 Kakashi is on his knees on the path, folded around his stomach, his mask down and blood dribbling from his mouth. Naruto hurriedly looks away when he sees that his face is exposed, which at least means that he spares himself the visual of Kakashi gagging and spitting out another mouthful of blood. The sound of it is already enough to make Naruto’s own stomach twist.

Carefully, Naruto steps towards him and lays his hand on his back, between his shoulder blades. He’s shaking really bad.

Kakashi exhales a low, stuttering groan – Naruto can feel it rumble underneath his hand – before clearing his throat and pulling his mask back up. Neither of them says anything, but when Naruto holds out his hand to pull him to his feet, Kakashi takes it.

They continue on their way in silence. There’s nothing to say; they just need to keep going. Naruto still doesn’t have a plan for when they get back to Konoha. He gets the sense that Kakashi doesn’t have a plan, either. They’re both spending every bit of focus just to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Naruto has the additional difficulty of trying to point them in the right direction, and he’s not sure whether he’s succeeding. The fog makes everything seem unfamiliar, and he already got lost a lot in these woods in the first place. Kind of ironic, that Kakashi didn’t starve to death in a hole in the ground just because Naruto got lost and stumbled across him, and now Naruto is lost again and it might kill him.

“Do you recognize any of this?” Naruto asks Kakashi, for the third time now. “I feel like we’re just getting more lost.”

Instead of pointing out the way to Konoha like he did the last times, Kakashi only murmurs something in response now, unintelligible even though his mouth is right next to Naruto’s ear.

Naruto’s anxiety spikes. “Sorry, what?”

“Don’t know,” Kakashi repeats, still mumbling. “Too dizzy.”

“Are you going to puke again?”

“Trying not to.” He’s trying pretty hard, judging by how he keeps swallowing; Naruto can see his throat moving underneath his mask.

“Do you need to sit down?” Naruto knows they should keep going, but Kakashi looks bad. His face is even paler than before, and Naruto notices that his breathing is kind of irregular now that he’s paying attention to it. If Kakashi passes out, it’ll be impossible to move.

Kakashi shakes his head, his jaw clenched underneath his mask. “Just keep going.”

They make it exactly ten more steps before Kakashi is on his knees again, having collapsed around his stomach with a choked cry. He throws up again, more blood than before. When the heaving of his chest finally slows, he moves to wipe his mouth on his sleeve and completely misses his face with his sleeve. He doesn’t try again, just shakily curls in on himself, like the tiny defeat has worsened his pain tenfold. A raw-sounding whine escapes through his gritted teeth, a sound he was clearly trying really hard not to make.

Naruto doesn’t know what to do. There’s nothing he can do. Nothing except take Kakashi to a medical-nin. So he bends down, pulls Kakashi’s mask up again, and holds out his hand, offering to help him up. Kakashi hesitates, but takes Naruto’s hand. His hand is cold.

Naruto braces his feet in the mud and pulls Kakashi’s hand with both his hands, just like he’d done before, but he can’t get Kakashi to his feet. He’s not sure whether it’s the pain or the blood loss, but Kakashi’s legs refuse to carry him anymore.

His eyes burning, he wrestles himself underneath Kakashi’s arm, trying to get him up that way. He manages to drag him upright a little – it’s clearly hurting Kakashi, but neither of them stops trying – but Naruto is too small to get him all the way upright. Kakashi is just too heavy.

“Come on,” he grits out, his feet digging into the mud. He’s braced his entire body against Kakashi’s good side, and he already knows he’s not strong enough but he refuses to give up. “We can do this, come on!”

He takes a step forwards, dragging Kakashi along, every muscle in his body tense. Kakashi cries out through his teeth and pulls away reflexively, and they both crash towards the ground.

The impact is softened by the fallen leaves on the ground, but Naruto supposes it’s still a pretty bad fall for someone who’s already in pain; Kakashi lands on his side and makes a noise in between a gasp and a gag and a sob, a noise Naruto never wants to hear ever again.

Naruto gets up, out of breath. “Sorry,” he pants, “sorry, but we need to keep going. We need to get you to a medic. I need you to be okay again.”

Kakashi doesn’t reply; the only sign that he’s even still conscious is the fact that his eye is open and shakily following Naruto’s movements. He takes Naruto’s hand when he offers it, but doesn’t budge when Naruto tries to pull him upright.

His gaze is sharp with pain and adrenaline. “I can’t,” he says, panting harshly. “This is as far as I can go.”

“Okay, well,” Naruto replies, his mind going a mile a minute, “there’s got to be something we can try, right? What if you henge into a small animal or something? I could carry you then.”

Kakashi shakes his head. “My chakra’s all but gone.”

Naruto clenches his jaw, trying with all his might to come up with something else, but there’s a lot that’s impossible without chakra. “I could-- I could run to get someone,” he says eventually. “You’ll be able to wait here a little while, won’t you?”

Kakashi doesn’t reply, just squeezes Naruto’s hand gently. It feels like a gesture that’s meant to be comforting. It doesn’t comfort Naruto at all.

“What?” he asks, voice rising. “What is it?”

Kakashi’s eyebrows curve up in the center of his face; there’s something deeply vulnerable in his gaze, and Naruto wants to shout at him to bottle those emotions right back up because if Kakashi is scared, then they’re truly beyond all hope and Naruto cannot accept that. Kakashi swallows difficultly.

“By the time you get back, I might be dead,” he says quietly.

He might as well have slapped Naruto across the face, except that would’ve been infinitely less awful. “Shut up,” Naruto snaps in return, truly unable to find anything else to say.

“I’m serious,” Kakashi replies, still quietly.

“Shut up.”

“I’m… so sorry, kid.”

“Shut up!” Naruto yells, and he yanks his hand from Kakashi’s grasp with so much force that it launches him backwards. He lands on his butt on the ground, and it doesn’t really hurt but everything else hurts so bad – his chest aches and his eyes burn and his brain feels like it’s collapsing in on itself – and then he’s crying, finally crying, crying so hard that it feels like he’ll never be able to stop.

Kakashi opens his arms as far as he can, weakened as he is, and Naruto crawls towards him and clings to his sweater, sobbing into his chest. Kakashi wraps his arms around him, rubbing his back. Naruto can feel him tremble.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Kakashi whispers. Maybe it’s Naruto’s imagination, but it almost sounds like his voice is cracking. “If I’d known from the start that I was going to die on you-- maybe I wouldn’t have--”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have become my friend?” Naruto finishes his sentence, incredulous, his words slurred through his tears. “Don’t say that.”

“If you hadn’t known me, you wouldn’t have had to be sad about me.” Kakashi exhales a shaky breath. “I know that sadness. I don’t want to inflict that on you. It’s cruel.”

“If I hadn’t known you, I wouldn’t’ve known you,” Naruto reacts, his voice breaking with the force of his words. “That would’ve been even more cruel.”

If he hadn’t known Kakashi, he wouldn’t have had the chance to make his first real friend. He wouldn’t have discovered that not everyone hates him by default. He wouldn’t have known about himself, about his past, about his parents. He wouldn’t have learned the new jutsu he knows now – he wouldn’t have learned that he’s not a total idiot, that he’s able to learn really cool stuff if he’s just given some proper instructions and a little bit of patience.

He wouldn’t have known that there’s a whole world outside Konoha, a world where life is difficult, sure, but not as impossible as the Academy makes it seem. A world that could be better than Konoha. A place where he can go, now that going home is no longer an option.

Kakashi leans his chin onto the top of Naruto’s head. “Guess you’re right,” he murmurs. “I’m glad I met you, too, kid. And I’m glad I have the chance to say goodbye.”

It means more to Naruto than he could ever put into words. He tries to thank Kakashi – for saying that, and for everything else – but a new wave of tears renders him unable to speak.

They lie like that for a little while, Kakashi on his side and Naruto curled up against his chest, until Kakashi has to disentangle himself from the embrace to spit out another mouthful of blood. Naruto has to help him sit up; he’s too weak to properly move, his upper body swaying when he sits and his legs awkwardly stretched out to the side.

Afterwards, they try once more – Kakashi’s idea – to get up and walk, but they make it barely three shaky steps and Kakashi is crying out through his teeth the entire time. When they crash to the ground again, they don’t speak, but they both know that this was their last try. They won’t make it to Konoha, not when they can only walk a few steps at a time, not when Kakashi is in horrifying pain the whole time.

Silently, they accept that they’ll stay here. Kakashi sits with his back against a tree; around him, Naruto scratches the same seals into the ground as they’d put up around the apartment, the chakra-concealing ones, so that Kakashi can finally stop hiding his chakra himself. Naruto gathers armfuls of fallen leaves to make the ground a bit more comfortable. As he watches Kakashi sit on his mattress of orange leaves, clawing at his stomach as he tries to catch his breath, Naruto has the strong thought that, after today, orange won’t be his favorite color anymore.

Kakashi is quiet, so Naruto decides to fill the silence himself. He talks about later, about what he’ll do after, because Kakashi said he didn’t want Naruto to feel sad and Naruto really doesn’t want him to worry about that. So Naruto tries to assure him that he doesn’t need to worry; he’ll just travel to Kusa to find Team Gai, and he’ll be safe with them. His team seemed nice, so maybe they’ll want to be his friends. And he’s sure he’ll figure out what to do after that.

It’s all far more optimistic than Naruto actually believes right now, and as he keeps talking, his optimism falters more and more. He might befriend Team Gai, but he’ll still miss Kakashi a lot. He might travel and see cool places and do little peaceful boring civilian jobs, but he doesn’t think it’ll be as nice without Kakashi. Each time he’d imagined himself outside Konoha, he’d imagined Kakashi next to him – watching over him with that near-infinite patience of his, quietly making sure he’s okay and not about to do something stupid, occasionally making a sarcastic remark or reacting with just the right amount of exasperation to Naruto’s jokes.

Kakashi is clumsily moving to wipe away Naruto’s tears before Naruto has even realized he’s crying again. Wordlessly, he curls up against Kakashi’s good side, sniffling. Kakashi rests his hand on the back of Naruto’s head.

It’s not very comfortable to curl up against Kakashi; his chest is heaving rapidly, thumping against Naruto’s forehead, and he’s shaking and sort of cold and he reeks overwhelmingly of blood. Naruto ignores all of that. He’s always felt safe when he’s near Kakashi like this, even now, even though that doesn’t make any sense. He tries his best to hold on to that feeling. He’s never felt safe like this with anyone other than Kakashi. This might be the last time he ever truly feels safe.

He closes his tear-filled eyes and hopes this moment will stretch out longer than he fears it will.

“Naruto. N--”

Kakashi’s faint voice rings out in the quiet, nothing more than a whisper, and Naruto bolts upright.

“What is it?” he asks. He’s terrified of the answer; he’s terrified that this’ll be Kakashi’s goodbye. Naruto had been observing Kakashi’s breathing closely, listening for any hitches or stutters that seemed to indicate he was really really dying now – he hadn’t been able to tell, but now he’s scared that he’s missed something, that Kakashi is dying now.

There isn’t any reassurance in Kakashi’s expression; his face is slack and pale, his eyelids purple and shivering. His eye is half-lidded and staring blankly at the ground. He doesn’t seem like he’s heard Naruto’s question.

“Kakashi,” Naruto urges. “What is it?”

“Be quiet,” Kakashi breathes. Naruto has to lean closer to be able to hear him; he can hear the quiet chattering of his teeth. “Someone’s-- nearby.”

Normally, that would be a cause for alarm, but Naruto feels strangely calm. This isn’t nearly the worst news Kakashi could’ve given him. “Let them come,” he decides, getting his feet underneath him, as quietly as he can in the crackling pile of leaves. “If they pick a fight, I’ll mess them up like I did that one guy.”

“No.” Kakashi shakes his head with a wince. “You need to-- get out of here. Just--”

His voice cuts off with a gasp, and Naruto grabs his hand. “Don’t care,” he replies. “I’m staying. Don’t waste your breath trying to make me leave.”

Kakashi’s eyebrows twitch, like he’s trying to frown but can’t. His breathing quickens, seemingly for no reason, and it scares Naruto – and then Kakashi bends forward with a quiet grunt and pulls his legs underneath him, shakily but deliberately, and Naruto realizes he was bracing himself for the pain of getting into a crouched position. Kakashi sways to the side almost immediately, and Naruto’s fear is replaced by a feeling of worry that’s considerably worse.

“Hey,” he protests, grabbing Kakashi’s shoulder. “Careful.” Kakashi doesn’t turn to look at him, his eye scanning the forest around them. It seems like the movement is mostly a reflex; his gaze doesn’t focus on anything. Still, though. What the Hell kind of threat could have him this worried? “Would you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“Four chakra signatures,” Kakashi breathes, “and one of them is familiar.” There’s a kunai in his hand, though Naruto didn’t see him take it out.

“How bad is that?” Bad enough, he knows, otherwise Kakashi wouldn’t want him to leave. The answer seems obvious now that he’s already asked the question.

But apparently it’s not that obvious, because Kakashi replies: “I don’t… know.” He clears his throat. “I recognize them-- But I can’t think--”

Like how he mistook Naruto’s chakra for Naruto’s mom’s, when his fever was really bad. That was scary back then as well, but back then, Naruto had had medicine and reasonable hope that that would help. Now, he has nothing.

It’s an effort to steer his attention away from his worry again. “So that’s probably bad, then,” he summarizes. Kakashi has made it clear that he has way more enemies than friends.

Kakashi’s chin dips down in a shaky nod.

The bushes to their left rustle.

Kakashi moves to shove Naruto behind him, but the movement is too abrupt for his battered body. He cringes with a gasp – and then his eye rolls back into his head and he falls limply to the side.

There are four silhouettes in the corner of Naruto’s eye, obscured by the fog. He bares his teeth at them, willing them to stay back. He’d hoped that his despair and panic would’ve been enough to summon the Nine-Tails’ chakra again – to make him powerful and violent again, powerful and violent enough to defend Kakashi – but there’s no sign of the orange-colored rage from before. Quickly, he takes Kakashi’s kunai from his slack fingers.

“Stay back!” he yells, clutching the kunai with both hands and pointing it towards the silhouettes. “Leave us alone! I have a kunai and I’ll use it!”

The group pauses; there’s some movement, like they’re looking at one another. “Uzumaki Naruto?” one of them asks – it’s a girl’s voice, a voice Naruto thinks he might’ve heard before. “Is that you?”

“I said to leave us alone!” Naruto only snaps in response.

“We only want to confirm something,” a man’s voice replies, deep and loud enough to make Naruto flinch despite the calm tone. He, too, sounds familiar, though Naruto doesn’t care to figure out where he recognizes the guy from. “We followed a trail of blood that led to you. Are you hurt? We may be able to help.”

It’s an unexpected offer, when Naruto had expected that he’d have to fight – he can’t really wrap his head around what’s happening. His thoughts are rushing through his head. “Wait,” he calls out. “I need to think.”

These people are offering to help. Could be a trap. Could be genuine, and that’d be unspeakably great.

Naruto vaguely recognizes their voices. They’re not being mean like most people he knows. So either these people are trying to trick him or they’re weirdos.

They’re weirdos, his intuition tells him. They’re weirdos and Kakashi knows one of them.

Who the Hell could that be? Who--

His eyes widen as the puzzle pieces click into place and he finally recognizes the voices.

It’s Team Gai. It’s Team Gai, and they’re here somehow and they’re--

They’re offering to help.

“Come closer,” Naruto says, bracing himself in case this is a trap after all. “Don’t try anything.”

From the fog emerge the three teenagers he met at the library and their Gai-sensei, unarmed and looking worried. Naruto had never thought that that far-too-green uniform and those bushy eyebrows could ever be so comforting a sight.

The four of them look Naruto over first – checking for injuries, Naruto realizes, because his hands and T-shirt are stained with Kakashi’s blood and he hasn’t told Team Gai that he himself isn’t the one who’s hurt – and then their gazes shift to Kakashi, still curled up on his side on the ground behind Naruto.

Gai’s eyes widen with recognition, and his big eyebrows draw together in concern. “Dear students,” he says, his bombastic voice uncharacteristically quiet, “meet my friend Kakashi.” He puts a hand on the chuunin’s shoulder. “Shogo, I believe he may be in need of your help.”

Adrenaline rushes through Naruto’s veins – they’re so close to making everything okay again after all. If anyone decides to be cruel right now, if anyone tries to take this from him, he will fight. He can feel the warning of violence in his bones.

Shogo steps towards Kakashi, and automatically, Naruto raises his kunai. He knows he should be able to trust these people, but each of his instincts is screaming at him not to trust anyone right now.

She stops and stares at him, and he exhales a shaky breath. “You’d better actually help him,” he tells her. He tries to sound as dangerous as he feels, but only succeeds in making his voice crack. “If you make it worse, I’ll make you regret it.”

The boy genin steps towards him, visibly ready to defend his teammate, but Shogo holds him back. “I know wh-- what to do,” she tells Naruto. “Let’s n-n-not waste t-time. Where is he hurt?”

“Stomach,” Naruto replies, overcome with relief at the certainty in her tone and trying not to show it. “And his side. But I think his stomach’s worse – he puked blood a couple of times…”

He trails off when he sees the startled looks on everyone’s faces. It must be exactly as bad as Kakashi thought, then.

Shogo hastily crouches behind Kakashi and pulls up his sweater. Kakashi’s hand balls into a fist, but Gai catches his hand before he has the chance to swipe at his student.

“Kakashi,” he says. “You’re okay. We will not hurt you.”

Kakashi’s eye flickers up to him, eyelid twitching. “Gai?” he asks, his voice so strained that it cracks in the middle of the word.

Gai gives him a bright smile. “I told you I would always help you, did I not?” he asks. “Even if the law declares us enemies.”

Kakashi exhales, his eye closing; with some imagination, Naruto could see a weak little smile in the expression. “Thank you--”

The words dissolve into a gasp, and he stills, gaze unfocusing. The knuckles of his balled fist turn white. Shogo hisses through her teeth and signs urgently at Gai with one hand. Her other hand is pressed against Kakashi’s back, glowing green with medical ninjutsu.

“We need to find somewhere safe to hide,” Gai says, turning to Naruto and the rest of his team. “Kakashi’s injuries are too severe to heal out in the open. As soon as Shogo has stopped the bleeding, we need to move.”

“We were going that way,” Naruto says faintly, pointing. “Towards the village there. Kakashi said we should be safe there.” He can’t tear his eyes away from what Shogo is doing. Kakashi’s abdomen is swollen and horribly bruised, and whatever it is that she’s doing, it’s not fixing it nearly fast enough for Naruto’s liking. He knows it’s probably okay to trust her – Kakashi seems to trust Gai and by extension his team – but with everything that’s happened, he can’t turn off the part of his brain that tells him to be cautious. He remembers suddenly what Kakashi was like when Naruto first met him; how jumpy and stand-offish he was, even though he knew from the start who Naruto was. He thinks he’s starting to understand that a little better, now.

Gai claps him on the shoulder encouragingly, and it makes Naruto jump. “A good suggestion,” Gai says. “We will follow your plan.”

Boy-genin is already pulling a map from his backpack, and Gai returns to Kakashi’s side. Naruto stays standing where he is, feeling fidgety. One moment, Kakashi was going to die for sure, and now he might survive after all. He knows he should be relieved, but he feels like he can’t yet. That anxiety from before – the feeling that he’ll have to watch his first and only friend die – is still there and Naruto feels like it’ll be a long while before it goes away.

Girl-genin, standing guard, notices his lingering worry and sends him a grin. “It’ll be okay,” she tells him. “Shogo’s still learning medical ninjutsu, but she’s super good at it. Nobody’s dying on her watch.”

Another threat climbs its way up Naruto’s throat – “You’d better be right, otherwise I’ll…” – but he swallows it back down. He doesn’t know how he would finish that sentence, anyway. Their medic-in-training had better be good enough to save Kakashi. Naruto doesn’t know what he’ll do if she’s not.

Shogo looks up from her medical ninjutsu and signs at her teammates. “Done. Let’s g-go.”

Gai scoops Kakashi into his arms like he weighs nothing, and then they’re on their way.

Chapter Text

The journey to the civilian village passes in a blur. Naruto has no idea how long it takes them to get there, exactly, though he knows they get there quick. Gai leads them to the village in a straight line, his pace almost superhumanly fast as he runs ahead, and he doesn’t slow down even once.

Naruto is horrendously out of breath the whole time, but he manages to keep up. He’s not sure how he manages it, but he does know why. He just doesn’t want to lose sight of Kakashi – after all, the last time he took his eyes off him, things went really damn wrong. He really doesn’t want things to go even more wrong than they already have.

So he stares at Kakashi – well, mostly at his legs, because the rest of him is hidden from Naruto’s view by Gai’s broad back. He doesn’t look away. When the two genin start a conversation with him, he doesn’t make eye contact.

He retains a little of what they say to him, somehow. Girl-genin’s name is Kana; boy-genin’s name is Hideji. They’re fifteen and Gai has been teaching them for three years. They were headed to Kusa so that their teammate Shogo could finish up her medical-nin training, but they turned around because the Hokage sent Gai a messenger hawk with urgent orders. Highly confidential S-rank orders, so they’re not allowed to tell Naruto about them. Which frustrates Naruto more than it probably should.

The rest of what they tell him – their gushing about their Gai-sensei, Hideji’s tips about how Naruto’s supposed to run so that he won’t be out of breath, Kana’s repeated reassurances about how Kakashi’ll be okay – is nothing but noise to him. His ability to listen has switched off, like it sometimes does in class when Iruka-sensei’s lessons are particularly difficult. He knows the noise around him is words and sentences, but his brain refuses to translate that noise to a language he can understand. In a way, he envies Shogo; at least she’s left out of this conversation, focused on the book she’s holding as she is.

Soon, the fallen leaves and mud underneath their feet are replaced by cobblestone; the outskirts of the civilian village. Naruto near-automatically applies his henge again. His mind is too chaotic to fully know why, but he feels like it’ll be safer that way. Gai hides Kakashi’s – far too recognizable – hair underneath one half of his open flak jacket.

Hideji leads the way now, guiding them through the narrow streets of the village with his map. He’s not quite as quick as Gai, and Naruto gets that it must be difficult to read a map while running but he finds himself really frustrated about having to slow down. He catches glimpses of the pinched expression on Kakashi’s face every once in a while, now that Gai is running next to him, and he just wants to get to their destination already. The longer it takes them to get where they’re going, the longer Kakashi needs to endure being jolted with each of Gai’s steps.

And then, suddenly, Hideji halts. They’re in front of a building now, a building marked with a weathered old sign that Naruto is pretty sure says “inn”. He leans his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Now that they’re standing still, his legs suddenly feel a lot more tired than before.

Hideji puts his map away. Gai gives him a nod and pushes the front door open with his foot.

The door opens into a hallway; it’s narrow, and Gai has to walk sideways like a crab as not to bump Kakashi’s head or feet against the wall. At the end of the hallway, a woman is sitting behind a desk, reading a magazine.

“Morning,” she says, not looking up from her magazine.

“Good morning!” Gai greets her in return, his voice far too loud for this small space. Naruto swears he sees Kakashi wince in response. “We have a question for you, if you wouldn’t mind.”

The woman still doesn’t look up. “Ask away.”

At that, Gai balances Kakashi carefully on one arm and reaches into a side pocket of his backpack with his free hand. He lays down a fistful of money on the desk. “We are shinobi of Konohagakure,” he says, “and we need a discreet place to treat our comrade’s injuries. May we perhaps use one of your rooms?”

The woman looks from the pile of money on the desk to Kakashi and then to Gai. She reaches underneath the desk, and Naruto’s eyes widen – but she takes out a key, not a weapon. “Room eight on the second floor,” she replies, and Team Gai is already rushing towards the stairs. Naruto follows on their heels, with a quick “thanks!” at the woman.

Room eight on the second floor is smaller than Naruto’s bedroom, with only a narrow bed in the center of the room and a rickety-looking table and chair off to the side. A window lets in some grayish light; Naruto quickly closes the curtains.

Kana hurries past him towards the little bathroom that’s attached to the room, and she rummages around in there. Shogo shrugs out of her backpack and spreads a rather startling amount of books and scrolls across the table.

She gives Naruto a pen and some blank pages from her notebook when he asks, and he quickly sits down on the floor and gets to work on some more chakra-concealing seals. Hideji asks if he can help; Naruto shoves one of the pieces of paper at him and tells him to copy the seal Naruto is making. He doesn’t mean to be rude – nobody in Team Gai deserves that, they’ve all been exceptionally nice – but he really can’t help it. His nerves are shot. Thankfully, Hideji isn’t an ass about it, and he sits down with a nod and starts to copy the seal.

In the meantime, Gai has lowered Kakashi down onto the bed, on his good side. He pulls the blanket over him; Kakashi curls in on himself with a shivering sigh. Naruto remembers how cold Kakashi’s hands were, and he’s grateful for the blanket.

Gai pulls the blanket tighter around Kakashi’s shoulders and then steps back. “I will be keeping watch,” he declares. “Hideji, come and stand watch with me when you’re finished. Shogo, Kana,” he addresses his other students, “I will leave Kakashi in your capable hands. If you need our assistance, just ask.”

“Sure, sensei!” Kana replies, emerging from the bathroom with a couple of towels. Shogo only gives an absent-minded nod; she’s busy studying a scroll. Her hands are covered in Kakashi’s blood, Naruto notices, and she’s leaving bloody fingerprints on the scroll. She doesn’t seem to care.

Kakashi slightly raises his head off the pillow to whisper “thanks” in Gai’s general direction. Gai responds with a thumbs-up and a grin, and he leaves the room. Kana leaves with him, announcing that she’s going to go find some more supplies. Naruto dispels his henge as the door closes behind the two of them.

In the new silence, Shogo summons something from her scroll with a puff of smoke and grabs something from her backpack, and she gets up from her chair to stride towards Kakashi. Naruto watches as she fastens an opaque plastic bag labeled “O-” to the curtain rod and grabs Kakashi’s good hand from underneath the blanket. Shogo’s back blocks Naruto’s view of what she does next, but he sees that Kakashi does idly watch what she’s doing. When Shogo steps away, there’s a tube going from the bag into Kakashi’s forearm. A red liquid flows into Kakashi’s arm. Blood, Naruto guesses. That’s good; Kakashi really needs more blood.

Shogo turns to face Kakashi then, signing at him. He seems to understand her, tiredly nodding along to her gestures. Naruto doesn’t understand any of it, so he returns his attention to his seals.

He and Hideji finish the seals quickly. Hideji is pretty good at it, though he overlooks the same little detail that Naruto overlooked when he used these seals for the first time. Naruto wordlessly corrects it, activates the seals and puts them in the corners of the room. Hideji leaves the room to go and stand guard with Gai.

With that, Naruto finally lets himself return to Kakashi’s side. Shogo seems to be done signing at him; she’s gone back to study her books and scrolls some more. Naruto looks from Kakashi to her and back.

“Did you understand anything she said?” he asks, sitting down on the floor next to the bedside. “That didn’t make any sense to me.”

Kakashi hums absently, the sound muffled against the pillow. “It’s ANBU sign language,” he replies. “It’s meant for stealth missions. I learned it when I was still a shinobi.” He’s a bit less quiet than before, and less pale and out of breath. Maybe the extra blood is helping.

That grimness in his tone is still there, though, and it makes the hairs at the back of Naruto’s neck stand upright. “So, uhm,” he asks when Kakashi doesn’t continue, “what’d she say?”

“She said she’ll have to look up some stuff about the procedure,” Kakashi replies, “and then she’ll put me under, because healing me while I’m awake would-- would hurt like Hell.” He grimaces at that, as though saying it reminded him of the fact that it already hurts like Hell. “Apparently-- Apparently my guts are all kinds of screwed up. That shinobi back at your apartment tore holes in them.”

“That is screwed up,” Naruto agrees anxiously. He almost doesn’t dare ask, but he does anyway: “But she can heal you, right?”

Kakashi’s eye flickers up to Naruto, then back to the floor, like he’s hesitating. “I’ll live,” he replies belatedly.

He’s being weird, and Naruto really doesn’t like it at all. “That’s… good news, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Kakashi replies hastily. He blinks a couple of times, then clears his throat. “Yeah, of course it is. It’s just that…” He clears his throat again, but doesn’t continue, the way he does when he’s trying to say something he doesn’t really want to say, or that he doesn’t actually want Naruto to hear.

Naruto once again realizes that this morning has worn his patience very thin. “It’s just what?” he asks, only barely avoiding snapping at Kakashi.

Kakashi bites into his lip underneath his mask. “Kid,” he continues, his voice so impossibly steady that Naruto would’ve interpreted it as emotionless if he hadn’t known better, “I don’t know what my life’s going to be like after this. Shogo will be able to keep me from dying, but I might not recover completely. The… The things we talked about, everything we would do out in the world… It might be different than expected.”

Naruto’s eyes are burning again. “Explain,” he demands. “How’s that work? How could you heal but not heal?”

“Well,” Kakashi starts with a sigh, “like I said, there’s damage to a couple of my organs. When Shogo is done healing me, there will be a lot of scar tissue in and around the organs that she healed. Whether those organs will still be able to function properly like that, she won’t know until afterwards.”

“So, then what?” Naruto asks. He feels a bit nauseous. “How would that make your life different?”

Kakashi gives him a tired little smile. “It sort of depends,” he replies, and that really doesn’t make anything make more sense. “Some organs I could live normally without. But if other organs don’t work right, I might have to suddenly be really careful about the things I eat, or I might be in a bunch of pain all the time, or I might need medicine or medical attention that I can’t get outside of a hospital-- It might get really difficult to live on the run like I’ve been doing. Like we’d been planning to do.”

“Oh.” Naruto can’t find anything else to say; he’s tired. He’s had to wrap his head around far too many changes-of-plans and upsetting what-ifs today.

He’s so tired. He just wants Kakashi to be okay.

With a sniffle, he leans forward to rest his chin onto the side of the mattress. “Do you remember that I once called you the unluckiest bastard on the entire planet?” he asks in a murmur.

Kakashi huffs a laugh, despite everything. “Yeah.”

“And you told me I was wrong.”

“Yeah.”

Naruto closes his eyes. “I think I might’ve been right about that, though. You are the unluckiest bastard on the entire planet.”

There’s a long pause, and then Kakashi shifts forwards to lean his forehead against Naruto’s. His skin is still unpleasantly clammy, but Naruto leans into the touch anyway, squeezing his stinging eyes shut.

“Maybe I am an unlucky bastard,” Kakashi replies softly. “But I’ve been an unlucky bastard my whole life, and I guess things have always worked out eventually, even if it wasn’t in the way I expected. I’ll figure something out somehow, even if I have to walk around missing half my digestive system.”

“I’ll t-t-try my b-best not to let it c-come to that.” Startled, Naruto sits up and opens his eyes to see Shogo standing next to him, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and her hands in her sides. Kana is standing behind her, holding two plastic buckets with one hand and another bunch of towels with the other. Naruto hadn’t heard her return to the room. “I’m ready t-to begin the s-surgery,” Shogo continues.

Kakashi takes a deep breath, not looking away from Naruto’s face. Naruto wonders what’s going on inside his head; the look on his face is difficult to read. He’s probably trying to make sense of the same things Naruto is – the here-and-now is horrible but easy to understand, and the future will be better but possibly far more complicated – and trying to decide what to feel about all of that.

Naruto himself clings to Kakashi’s words from earlier: if things go wrong, they’ll figure something out somehow. Kakashi’s pretty smart, and Naruto has recently learned that he’s not an idiot himself either. Together, they’re smart and stubborn enough to make anything work, as long as Kakashi’s no longer actively dying. He tries to show that determination in the look he gives Kakashi in return.

Kakashi sighs, then nods at Shogo. “Yeah. Okay.”

Shogo nods back at him, then turns to Naruto. “I need you t-to wait outside,” she tells him – her tone isn’t unkind, but her words make something go cold in Naruto’s chest anyway. “I really c-c-can’t have anyone dis-- distracting me.”

Naruto’s breath quickens. “Hey,” he protests, “no, that’s not fair. Kana gets to stay but I don’t?”

“I’ll be helping Shogo with the surgery,” Kana says gently.

“I can help, too,” Naruto tries. When Shogo shakes her head, he continues, voice rising, “I just want to stay – I’ll be super quiet, I promise, you won’t even know I’m there.”

He’d half expected that Kakashi would insist on him staying as well, but he doesn’t. “Go and wait outside with Gai,” he just says. “These aren’t things a kid should see.”

“They’re kids, too,” Naruto bristles. “If you’re saying that I’m a wuss, you’re really wrong.” He’s perfectly aware that he might have to see organs if he stays in this room. He doesn’t even think that’d be the grossest thing he’s seen today.

Kakashi huffs a laugh at him. “I know,” he replies. “Just wait outside anyway, yeah? I’m kind of curious about what Gai’s been up to, and why he’s here – see what you can find out, would you? Report back to me afterwards.”

Naruto knows full well that Kakashi is trying to distract him by giving him something to do, like he’s a toddler. He hates that it sort of works, and that Kakashi’s question is sort of understandable. It does make sense that Kakashi wants to find out what his friend has been doing since he last saw him.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Naruto murmurs. “I’ll talk to Gai.”

Shogo gives him a nod and turns to Kakashi again. “I’ll p-p-put you under,” she tells him. “Naruto, you need t-to leave after that.”

Kakashi raises his hand to rest it against the side of Naruto’s face. He seems calm, or maybe resigned. Resigned and tired. He’d been awake for most of the night, Naruto recalls, and it’s been a huge damn mess of a morning. Kakashi must be exhausted. Naruto wonders if he’s looking forward to getting to take a nap. That thought somehow calms Naruto down a little bit as well, and he leans his cheek against Kakashi’s hand. Neither of them say anything.

Shogo kneels down next to Naruto, facing Kakashi as well. She reaches for Kakashi’s forehead, her hand glowing green with medical ninjutsu. Naruto is sort of in her way, and she has to angle her arm a bit awkwardly to be able to reach Kakashi, but she doesn’t ask Naruto to move. He appreciates that.

Kakashi keeps his gaze locked with Naruto’s as Shogo places her hand on his forehead. As Naruto watches, his shaky breathing begins to slow down, his eyelid drooping. Naruto can feel his hand start to slip off his face, and he quickly catches it with both his hands and lays it down gently on the mattress. Kakashi makes a sleepy noise in response, and then his eye flutters shut.

He doesn’t lose consciousness abruptly, like Naruto has seen him do a couple of times; this time, it’s gradual, predictable. Naruto had known in advance that Kakashi would pass out. The sight of Kakashi’s closed eyes and slack face startles him regardless. He’s still holding Kakashi’s hand. In a childish reflex, he squeezes it. Of course, Kakashi doesn’t react.

Shogo touches Naruto’s shoulder, and he shakes himself and quickly gets to his feet. “Uhm,” he tells her, “good luck, I guess. I hope everything goes well.” He doesn’t wait for Shogo’s response; he wants her to start healing Kakashi already. He nearly trips over his own feet on the way out and slams the door shut behind himself a little too loudly.

Gai is standing in the hallway; he smiles at Naruto as he enters the hallway, a bright and sympathetic expression. For reasons he doesn’t fully understand himself, Naruto scowls back at him, then plops himself down on the hallway floor, covers his face with his blood-stained hands, and starts to cry.