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Chapter Text

Kakashi prospered in the wildness of their land, as did every Hatake. 

He appreciated the wind in his silvery hair, the droplets that fell from heavy branches onto his skin, and the smell of fresh earth as he seamlessly passed by blurs of greens in his peripherals. 

Running always allowed him to release his pent up energy, especially after his meditation sessions with his dad. He loved him for sure, but Kakashi certainly debated whether his dad returned the feeling every time he forced him to sit still in a dark room for hours on end.

Kakashi was an impatient soul by nature, and nature enhanced that fact when it made him an Hatake. Like his clan, he was meant to roam the margins of the world, run every square inch of land until no more dirt was left untouched by the soles of their feet. 

His father always told him of the adventures he and his family would go on, the lands they would see and the world that they claimed was his. 

When he got just a little older, Kakashi was puzzled as to why his father ever stopped. Ever since he could remember, they never once left Konoha to live somewhere else. The reason came out in pieces, usually over dimming fires below brightly burning stars in the safety of their forests the Hatake clan owned. 

From what he gathered, the urge to travel died the moment his mom did. 

The Hatake never stayed around long, because when they became attached to something they liked, it was impossible to break the bond they formed. 

The eyes his father formed when speaking about his mother were telling on its own. He fell hard for this woman and the land, but his family didn’t. The morning after burying his wife under a white, ashy tree, his father watched the backs of his family’s heads as they disappeared beyond the trees. 

Like they’ve always practiced beforehand, the rest of the Hatake clan left with no second glance back. 

And yet, his dad never seemed at all phased by the obvious attitude Kakashi inherited from a clan that long since abandoned him. 

Kakashi played in the woodlands of their property from sunrise to sundown, not at all finding his entertainment in the village like so many other kids his age do. 

Almost always he brought home one thing or another, most often a small rabbit that he would proudly show to his father before handing it off to be prepared. 

Of course, Kakashi did get bored by the same old forests and promptly left the property lines when he grew tired of the deciduous trees surrounding him.

Despite the fact he usually ended up several villages away, Kakashi always made it home before supper, their meal in tow. With as fast as he was, Kakashi could probably run halfway across Fire county in a single day if he put himself up to it. 

One day after a particularly exciting adventure a few miles from home, Kakashi got hurt. Absolutely nothing serious, but when Kakashi got home his father was all over him like a mother hen he would sometimes bring in.

“Kakashi, what happened?” His father carefully lifted up Kakashi’s arm just above the elbow, so its side was in plain view and easy to access. The skin there was red and angry, several small streams of blood nesting in shallow grooves. 

“Nothing, just fell down, that's all…” Kakashi sported his nonchalant persona he’s been practicing ever since the mask became more or less engraved on his face. Kakashi looks to the side in a feigned annoyance, but his shoulders tense as his father continues to stare at him.

“From the top of a ravine, Kakashi,” His father guided Kakashi’s chin towards his sight, making sure he saw the concern that housed itself in them. “What were you doing that close to the edge anyways?”

Kakashi’s breath stilled. How could he have possibly known that? Kakashi knew this little scratch would be hard to bypass his father’s nose, and prepared an excuse beforehand in case he brought it up. 

It was by far the first time he came home banged up, and yet his father only asked questions when the origin of the injury was directed to actions he probably shouldn’t have been doing in the first place. 

Like trying to hop over the gap of a debatably wide ravine, for instance.

Kakashi’s eyebrows continued to furrow as he formulated a response, his mouth twisting with the effort. If only searching for his words were as easy as tracking down game. 

Sakumo sighed in front of him. “I’m not mad, Kakashi. I just want you to be more careful than that. The world can be dangerous if you don’t watch where you step,” His father’s hand released his arm and stood up from his crouched posture on the kitchen floor. He walked briefly before pulling out a small satchel from the inside of a cabinet adjacent to where the herbs were kept. 

Kakashi took his cue, and sat himself at the low table in the opposite direction making himself comfortable as he sat down on the floor pillow, his father not far behind.  

The flesh on his arm began to sting as an ointment was spread across the angry wound. Kakashi heard small apologies from his father’s throat before the pain slowly subsided, a white bandage being wrapped around his upper arm. 

“Don’t look so worried, pup. It’ll heal before the sun rises.” Even as the pain had merely vanished, a pained look still remained on Kakashi’s face, eyes distant. 

“I know.” 

“Does it still hurt?” Sakumo questioned. Reasonably, it shouldn’t. The medical recipes of the Hatake were vast and were insanely effective, able to heal minor scrapes like Kakashi’s to the gorging cuts Sakumo sometimes came home with within hours. 

“No… I was just wondering,” Kakashi glanced from his arm to his fathers eyes, a question forming. “How did you know?”

“Admitting guilt, cub?” A teasing smile on Sakumo’s lips formed. 

“W-no!” Kakashi blushed under the mask at his foolishness, any shinobi worth their salt would know better than to let the truth slip so easily. But he pushed back his retort with a question of even more importance. “Just saying hypothetically,” he enunciated, “if I was doing something that I would clearly never do, how did you know?”

Kakashi had some theories, but were quickly dismissed as he thought through them. The Hatake wolves couldn’t possibly, he never once sensed them and they were usually out in the frozen north unless they had a specific message for his dad. Plus, they were never known to be the tattling type. 

A jutsu then? Kakashi had vigorously studied various forms of jutsu ever since he graduated from the Academy last year. There were tracking justus and even mind reading ones, but those were typically limited to the clans outside of his own. 

Of course, his father wasn’t just the original shinobi, was he? The famed White Fang, he probably knew all those special abilities and no one even guessed that he could use them! So how did he even learn about them? The books he found at the library merely hinted at the existence of such techniques. 

His father hummed at his question, taking his own time to answer. “Do you remember when I told you about the Hatake clan’s chakra?”

“Yeah, why?” 

“I think it’s about time we expanded on its uses,” Sakumo replied. 

Kakashi’s face contorted into one of puzzlement before he put the pieces together. He was a smart kid after all. “We can… track people, with a jutsu special to our clan?”

“Something like that,” Sakumo smiled gently. “How about we start up supper before I tell you more?” 

Kakashi wasn’t sure about those implications, the thought made his heart race a little faster, and sweat pooled on his forehead. Just how often was his dad spying on him? He rapidly reasoned with himself however. His father was way too busy of a man to bother watching him all the time and honestly, he wasn’t doing anything that warranted to be embarrassed about. 

At least his father hasn’t found out about his midnight expeditions, yet. Or maybe his father had, and left Kakashi to his own devices because he was only a short shunshin away at all times. 

Sakumo could tell his son was along the lines of impatient, and didn’t attempt to tease any longer as Kakashi had given a noncommittal hum as he set off to make the table.

—

The sky had long darkened by the time Sakumo kept his promise. 

Kakashi was restless, ravenously consuming the supper in front of him and washing his dishes in record time. When he saw his father leisurely still enjoying his own portions, he took to cleaning the dishes the meat was prepared on. 

Another glance bore similar results. Honestly, at this point Kakashi thought his father was doing it on purpose. Adults never seemed to get hint, do they? Kakashi balanced his weight in the balls of his feet as his fingers hung from the bottom of the kitchen counter, legs straight as he lowered himself. His view just looked over the flat of the table when he ended up in a half crouched position.

Seeing his father still made no apparent progress, Kakashi rolled hos eyes as he lowered his bottom to the floor before letting go of the counter. He allowed himself to fall completely backwards, the back of his head resting in the cool tile and vision reaching the ceiling. 

It was when he began to dig his nails into the tatami mat beside him when his father made his appearance. 

“Kakashi, what are you doing?” Kakashi immediately stops, quickly placing a downward palm on top of the few straws now dislodged from their tight woven pattern on the small mat. 

“Waiting for you,” Kakashi replied dumbly, eyes still focused on the general direction of the mat instead of the patch that lay underneath his hand.

“Well, I’m ready now. Let’s head outside.”

With that command, Kakashi leaps from his place on the floor and bolts straight outside past the back door, his bare feet landing in beaten down grass. 

“Kakashi, we must really work on your patience,” he hears from behind. “How will you be a strong ninja if you can’t wait five minutes?” Sakumo sighed.

“Five minutes? Felt like hours.” Kakashi rolled his eyes, but continued staying in place to silently deny his father’s accusation as he turned to face his dad. He was being pretty patient, he thought. Didn’t even howl for his father’s attention or anything like a little cub anymore.

“Well, this jutsu I’m about to tell you requires a lot of patience, Kakashi.” 

Kakashi’s bratty demeanor shifted at those words. Immediately he straightened his posture and remained still, eyes focused on the figure ahead. 

When his dad had the time to teach him something new, he listened as intensely as he did during lessons in the Academy or when being instructed by Minato-sensei. Nothing his father said would fall on deaf ears. 

“Alright, I’m sure I can do it.”

Sakumo noted the change and internally sighed at the display. Kakashi was a good actor, he gave him that. He simultaneously acted like a full blown shinobi and a little blue eyed cub all at the same time, being able to switch between the two at the drop of a hat. 

Sakumo approached Kakashi, slowing as he got within an arm's distance. He began to crouch and Kakashi mirrored him, his head titling and their eyes now meeting comfortably as one of each knee touched the ground below them. 

“What I’m about to teach you is a clan technique that we have used for generations,” Sakumo closed his eyes briefly as if revisiting a memory. “Meaning, I don’t want you to teach this to anyone outside of our family, understand?”

Kakashi nodded his affirmation before speaking. “So it’s not a blood limit?”

“No, it’s not,” Sakumo opened his eyes again, looking at Kakashi with eyes taking on a particular tint. “But it isn’t easy to recreate without our type of chakra. Someone outside the clan can get very ill from Iorasu.” 

Iorasu? Kakashi doesn’t think he’s ever heard of the word. He wordlessly played with the syllables in his mouth, noting the strange accent his father used to annunciate it. 

“So that’s how you saw me?” Kakashi asked. 

“Yes, but I didn’t necessarily see. I used senses that normal shinobi don’t even know that they have. The Hatake have used Iorasu since primitive times to hunt, but have lately doubled in usefulness in a world like ours today.” 

“So how does it… how do I use it?” Kakashi asked tentatively. He never guessed his father was such a renounced sensor, but it makes sense now. 

“Look at me,” Sakumo used his middle and pointer finger to motion at his eyes before settling them down on the ground below him. “Feel the world around you. Notice the way the ground shifts below your feet, the way the wind travels in and out of the tree canopies. Every little thing you can hear, feel, smell- commit it to your memory.” 

Kakashi would’ve shrugged off a laugh at the mere corniness of his father’s words, but his tone indicated anything but. He did as his father told him to, not at all finding trouble in connecting to the natural world around him. He’s done this countless times before, yet Kakashi wonders what will be different about the experience this time.

His father’s silence only made him irritated. Kakashi isn’t one to easily give up, but at the same time he genuinely doesn’t know what to expect.

Kakashi shakes his head dismissively, one eye opening to address his father directly while the other resumes its concentration. “And…?”

“Channel that concentration and expand.” 

Kakashi tilted his head again at the statement, the motion hilariously similar to that of a confused puppy trying to decipher something new. He lowers his chin downwards to better replicate his father’s posture.

Kakashi cemented his knee a little harder into the soft grass below him, the dampness wetting the skin of his knees. He relaxed his rigid spine, and instead flexed the muscles in his fingers as his palm made contact with the prickly grass. 

He took a deep breath inward, taking a page from his father’s meditation sessions and focusing on the air that entered his nose and feeling the way it expanded his lungs.

He funneled his chakra in every crook of his body and expanded it to the pads of his fingers. Kakashi tilts his chin up to the inky sky, allowing his chakra to flow more smoothly. 

In the next few seconds he felt a sudden pull that made him feel like he was being pushed. Kakashi remained in place, allowing the dizziness to pass through him. 

All at once, he began to see things behind eyelids that were supposed to be closed. 

His chakra mingled with the ground below him, traveling along the shallow roots of grasses and increasing its speed once larger one’s came within reach. 

Simultaneously, he could see him and his father in every direction and angle he could’ve imagined. The energy that surged through his veins was rich, and compelled him to move. 

His vision glossed over acres and acres of land all too familiar to him. He saw birds resting in their nests, owls prowling through thickened bushes. He saw mice and rabbits scurrying across the ground, their food dancing silently in the wind that continued to move Kakashi onward. 

He was at the village gates in no time at all in the blink of an already closed eye. He saw the guards on their patrols, people heading in for the night as lights shut themselves off. Kakashi saw his teammates, all in various degrees of bedtime routines. 

Minato and Kushina lay together in a wide bed, already sound asleep despite the clock beside them pointed at a black nine.

Rin, Kuranai, and a few other girls gathered in a small circle, whispers of various topics rising in and out of his hearing. Kakashi willfully moved on, really having no interest in spying on a group of girls. However, the mound of pillows surrounding them painted the idea of a simple, girly-girl sleepover.

He found Obito next, shirt off in his bedroom mirror flexing his (barely visible) muscles and making kissy faces. Kakashi audibly chuckled at the sight, before immediately shutting up. He watched with a grimace before noting that Obito did not hear him, and probably would never. 

So he wasn’t actually here? Interesting…

With a start, Kakashi is brought back to the backyard of his home with a light hand on his shoulder. Its presence had disrupted his careful path of chakra, and Kakashi reopened his eyes with a smile.

“Having fun, Kakashi?” His father mused. 

Fun? This was so much better than just fun. He felt amazing! It was like he was a completely weightless, omnipotent being. The energy alone he felt was nothing compared to that felt on full moons, it made him want to run to Mist’s oceans and back. 

“That, was amazing,” Kakashi grinned wildly, then without warning hopped up onto his dad’s chest, arms reaching around his neck and holding on tight.

Clearly not expecting the added weight, Sakumo toppled right over. He grabbed Kakashi’s waist, holding him steady so he didn’t collide all of his 50ish pounds directly into his ribs. Sakumo smiled at his son’s display, but the lesson wasn’t quite finished yet. 

“Kakashi,” he started, and was met with furious squirming as Kakashi launched himself off of him and onto the side to his left. “What rules do you think apply to this jutsu?” Sakumo continued from his place on the floor, looking at Kakashi with an expectant manner. 

“Use it sparingly?”

“That,” Sakumo stated. “But also keep in mind this technique produces a lot of…” Sakumo looked at his son, who continued to bounce up and down on his toes and waves his arms in front and back of his body. “…feelings.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Which means this,” Sakumo motioned towards his face, “is gonna have to stay on a bit longer.”

“Okay,” Kakashi shrugged. Kakashi really didn’t mind the mask in all honesty. It was light, it never once affected his breathing even when he was stuffed full from a cold. The material was so soft, it hardly failed to register that it was touching his skin at all. 

It made his father’s wishes easier to follow with no real effort on his part. 

Meaning, Kakashi could perform his justu’s with as much intensity as he wanted and not worry about anyone spotting the black veins that ran up his neck. 

His blood of course, despite his pale skin saying otherwise, was still as red as any other mammal residing on the planet. The pigment was a side effect of his clan’s chakra at use, and it would remain that way before Kakashi could learn to better control the white chakra of his clan more effectively. 

“Well, it's getting late and you have a full day of training tomorrow.” Sakumo started up the small steps to the sliding door to the house, beckoning Kakashi to follow. 

“I guess…” Kakashi uttered carefully, eyeing the hallway containing his room and eager to keep playing- practicing his new ability. 

“And Kakashi, keep your paws off Iorasu until morning. I don’t want you up all night.” Sakumo ruffled his already spiky hair, making the ends stand up even straighter as a remeinent of his chakra remained from the jutsu he performed minutes ago. 

Kakashi hurriedly buried his face in his father’s shirt to hide the slight embarrassment of his plot being discovered so soon. He’d have to train thrice as hard if he was going to amount to any sort of professional ninja anytime soon.

“Thank you, dad.” 

Sakumo chuckled. “You’re welcome, Kakashi. Now go rest.” 

Chapter Text

The forest was alive that night, the full moon above him only encouraging other creatures to take advantage of the light that shone down on them.

He had his eye on his target, a deer cautiously drinking up the water that flowed from a small stream miles away. The smell of metal waved through the air, indicating the stag’s previous injury it received an hour earlier.

A botched kunai throw. It wouldn’t happen again.

The ground below him was covered with a layer of red and yellows as autumn frosts began to develop. With no patches of dirt or moss to be seen, Kakashi took a careful air approach and sprung through the lower branches of oaks.

Despite his precautions, the deer twitched a nervous ear before running as much as it could manage in the other direction.

Kakashi grew frustrated, a growl unconsciously escaping his throat as he pursued his prey. With no more use for the stealthy approach, Kakashi takes to the forest floor and pursues his target.

After minutes of a furious cat and mouse game, Kakashi got within relative distance and launched himself on top of the unsuspecting mammal, teeth bared and veins flared darkly over his exposed face.

A fierce shake from the deer’s neck whipped at his head, antlers swooshing dangerously as Kakashi’s sharp nails dug into fur as he flattened himself against its back.

But the deer’s efforts could not compare to the power of his jaws. Kakashi’s teeth dug deep into the stag’s flesh, blood pooling in the cup of his mouth. His left hand secured the deer’s collarbone before a kunai found itself wedged in between his prey’s ribs.

The deer roared in pain, and Kakashi responded with another deep growl as he stabbed at the deer’s neck. No sense in prolonging the inevitable, Kakashi muses.

They both drop to the ground, but Kakashi is the only one that recovers. As his prey ceased to move, Kakashi crouched and watched as the blood pooled and stained the fur around it. He listened deeply as the deer’s heart slowed to a stop, blood that was not his own dribbling lightly down his chin.

Distantly, he wonders where his father had run off to. After Kakashi ties up the hooves, he keeps the rope secured in one hand as the other finds its place on the ground beside him. As he feels the dampness of dew on the leaves that crunch under his small hands, Kakashi looks upwards and basks in the light of the midnight moon as he searches through the surrounding forests.

Kakashi’s spots Sakumo several yards away, hunched over with his hands on his knees. A snap of a twig and a shuffle of a pile of leaves made Kakashi frown as he waited for him to catch up.

So that’s what made the deer gun for it. Kakashi thought.

Since this was his first deer hunt without direct aid from his father, Kakashi had practiced relentlessly on his stealth to ensure no animal, or shinobi alike, was unable to sense his presence.

For the White Fang of the Hidden Leaf however, to make so much noise and leave such obvious tracks was unbecoming of a man so renowned for his skills across the world.

Come to think of it, his father had been off ever since he came back from that mission a few weeks ago.

“Wonderful job Kakashi,” Sakumo praised. “Let’s get this one home, eh?” Sakumo paused as he reached over the deer’s still body, hefting it up and securing it squarely on his shoulders. First hunt or not, Kakashi still lacked the physical strength to carry prey that large across the expanse of the forest around them.

The trudging hike back home was long, yet far quicker than a normal person could make the journey. His father remained silent, opting to remain more quiet these days despite all of the racket he caused just a short while ago. Silently Kakashi whisked away any traces of their presence with a quick shuffle of leaves around his boots.

As they approached their property and hung the deer for the night, Kakashi took an uneasy sniff; the cold air doing nothing to agitate it.

His father smelt… different.

—

The deer still remained hung on the tree in their backyard, waiting to be prepared. Kakashi hoped that his father made time to dress it before the bugs got it too badly, or at least taught him how to do it some other time.

Which is why that morning, Kakashi fixed himself a small breakfast with eggs he… secured from a nearby farmer during the frosty dawn, his father none the wiser. He seasoned it lightly with the herbs in his cupboards, which was quickly diminishing like the food in their fridge.

His D-rank missions hardly covered more than a few days' snacks, the rest being well spent on shuriken and other assorted items to aid in his ever growing training regiments. And until his team was approved for anything more than a low paying job, and multiple ones at that, Kakashi would have to rely on the forests behind him.

Lately, his father has been skimping on the grocery shopping. Kakashi found that the money from his father’s last A-rank quickly dwindled to cover basic expenses, and since his sudden hiatus, no more came in.

He fixed his father a plate, gently placing it down on the table in the dining room so he had something to eat for when he awoke. His father didn’t seem to mind eating cold breakfast at noon that much, even if only a bite was taken out of it.

And yet, that was all it took to satisfy him for the rest of the day, apparently. The lone plate from last night’s supper still remained, everything on it completely untouched as the utensils loyally sat at its side and waited to be used.

Behind him, the facet continued to drip periodically as the smell of dust made his nose itch. Kakashi sighed. This has been going on for weeks.

Granted, he was old enough to be cleaning and managing around the house on his own, but you would think that a man that was no longer busy with missions would have time to spruce up the house once and awhile.

“I’m leaving,” Kakashi said lightly as he closed the door behind him. He made his way down the path to the village gates, not once looking back on the man who was slowly becoming less and less of the person Kakashi once idolized so much.

—

“I’m home,” Kakashi says distantly. His normal training clothes were dirtied, and sported much more holes than usual. Training wasn’t particularly rough, but Kakashi made a note not to train too close to Genma and his stray senbon again.

As per usual, no response followed. However Kakashi immediately noticed a shadow dance across the hallway walls, the orange candle light simultaneously permeating a light floral smell.

He was surprised to find his father up and about. In addition to the minty smell coming from his newly brushed teeth, Kakashi noted his appearance was completely different than normal.

A singular small braid embedded itself on the right side of his head that disappeared behind nicely combed hair. The rest of it flowed down a light blue kimono, one Kakashi has never seen before. Was there a party or something his father was supposed to be going to? Kakashi shook his head at the thought.

“Ah, Kakashi, welcome home. How did training go?” Sakumo beckoned Kakashi to his side, then briefly surrounded him in a side hug before continuing to fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

“Uh, it was fine Dad…” Kakashi stiffened at the contact, why was he suddenly being so cuddly? “Where are you going?”

“Just visiting Niwa. I’ve told you about Auntie Niwa, right pup?”

Sure he did, when he lamented about how his entire family stabbed him in the back and never once turned around to help him in his darkest moments.

“This late…?” Kakashi questioned. It would be half past eight now, and his family could be halfway across the world for all he knew. “When will you be back?”

Sakumo turned his gaze from his hands to Kakashi’s face, and Kakashi noted the familiar tint that embedded itself in his father’s eyes. Ioraso. “I’m not going far… I’m meeting Niwa briefly.”

“She’s in town, then?”

“Within Kohana, yes,” Sakumo replied.

Kakashi didn’t think he cared that much. Curious certainly, but more importantly he was due for a shower and clothes that weren't littered with holes, and his bed seemed so enticing. The mystery of his father’s growing list of odd behaviors could wait another day, he supposed.

“Kakashi…?”

“Yes, father?”

“Care to join me?”

—

The shrinking moon was enough to illuminate the path to their destination. Sporting his fanciest black and blue kimono, Kakashi for once followed behind his father as they made their way deeper into the forest.

Kakashi had to stop when his father went no further. Truly, he did not understand where or what they were doing. Kakashi tilts his head in every direction, trying to locate his estranged aunt or some other reason as to why they weren’t within Konaha’s gates.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Kakashi?”

“Where’s aunt Niwa?”

“Here, cub.”

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed as he stared in the direction of his father’s opened palm. In front of them, a large ashy tree devoid of any foliage stood vigil over the forest. A large hole engorged itself at the bottom, the lack of light forming a terrifying abyss that Kakashi grew wary of.

Kakashi gingerly made his way around the base of the tree, and found absolutely nothing that supported his father’s claim. No scent, no tracks.

“She’s not here,” Kakashi spat, agitation growing into a steady frustration. He was tired. Tired from today and tired of his father. Why couldn’t he just act normal again? “Seriously Dad, what’s wrong with you?”

Sakumo gave nothing but a sad smile as he crouched onto the forest floor before the tree. He drew in a large breath before releasing a howl deep from his chest. It echoed loudly, the noise traversing the hollowed trunk and making its way up and out the top. Even at its side, Kakashi could feel the strength of it vibrating into his skin.

“Come here,”

Kakashi reluctantly did what he was told. A firm grip found itself on his shoulder and his father whispered, “You have to look somewhere deeper beyond your senses, pup. She can’t talk to us… normally anymore, but we still can.”

“She’s dead,” Kakashi pointed out bluntly.

“Yes. Yes she is.” Sakumo noted sadly.

“Recently?”

“Yes. She died protecting her family. Our family.”

“Was it the Kiwa, then?” Kakashi bristled. Stupid war and its stupid fascination with death. He watched as his father’s jaw square and his mouth thin.

“No, cub. But that’s not the point right now,” Sakumo reached up to pet Kakashi’s hair before gathering a chunk and began braiding it, identically to the braid on his own head. “The point is that we must help her complete her final journey to the afterlife. And this,” He vaguely nods to the tree, “is part of it.”

“This is where we will bury her, then?” No other Hatake has ever been traditionally buried, not in a cemetery anyway. He’s heard of his father’s wish to be buried out in their land as opposed to be immortalized in the stone surrounding the village walls. Kakashi always assumed it was because he still hasn't adjusted to Konaha yet.

“No. Your uncle has already handled it. But for a Hatake to reach the afterlife we must help our deceased find where they want to go. Iorasu is an ability connected to our physical bodies, chakra is of no use in death.”

Sakumo brushes the braid behind his son's ear and settles onto his knees in front of the tree’s opening. Kakashi leans forward, grabbing the back of his father’s clothing and keeping his father close.

“…I’m sorry.”

His voice carries lightly into the hollow trunk, his words lost and only creating a whisper that conveys the syllable. Kakashi buries his head into his father’s side and knows that the apology wasn’t just for his dad.

Chapter Text

When Kakashi awoke that morning, he almost immediately wished he didn’t. In fact, he planned to plop right back into bed and sleep for another month until he remembered the meeting he had yet to attend with Minato-sensei.

With a renowned force of will a stubborn child like himself had, Kakashi let out an exaggerated groan into his pillows before lifting himself up with unusually sore muscles. As soon as he stood up to leave his darkened room, a wave of dizziness threatened to push him back into his really, really comfortable bed. 

Kakashi stumbled slightly over clothes he’s yet to throw in his wash, cringing at the sound his feet made as they stuck to the wooden floor below him. 

As he walked down the hall to the kitchen, Kakashi repeatedly had to squint his eyes harshly against the sun boring down on him through the large windows of their living room. Was the hallway always this long?

Kami, he thought. It felt like the pressure around his head was going to crush his skull while a dull throbbing thundered behind his tired eyes. 

Kakashi quickly concluded that his day was going to suck even more as he poked around his face and found his gums were incredibly sore, like all of them were knocked out yet still remained in his mouth. Not that eating anything sounded particularly pleasing, given the queasy feeling in his gut when he walked too swiftly. 

As Kakashi rounded the hall, he noticed his father in their small kitchen to his right. Today was his day off, Kakashi remembered, but he sported his usual attire except his Jonin vest and weapons that were normally attached to his person. 

“Good morning, Kakashi! Nervous for your exams?” Sakumo teased. 

Oh. That’s where the dreadful feeling had come from and he grimaced while recounting his luck, knowing that he’s going to have to participate in his Jonin exam while he’s sick. 

A childish desire of his wants to stay home and burrow himself in blankets and warm soup, but he knows how important this exam is. And honestly? He wasn’t a child the moment he started going on his own missions.

Nothing to really do about it, he supposed. He was strong, clearly so he could manage to catch the Hokage’s attention at just twelve years old. What’s a light flu going to do? If he was in an actual battle he'd have to push through, the enemy wouldn’t care to let him catch his breath. He couldn’t afford to call in sick. 

He resigned to allow his father a quick “hm” as he unceremoniously dropped to the chair of the dining room table, attempting to rub the sleepiness from his eyes. 

“Kakashi, what’s wrong?” He heard his father ask. Yet despite the fact that he’s several feet away, Kakashi hunched his shoulders up his ears and winced quietly as if he yelled directly in his ear. 

He couldn’t help it. The pop of the food in the pan, the sizzling of the oil, the taps of his fathers feet, the rustle of his clothes, and the sound of his own breathing were attacking his senses at an alarming peak. It was akin to his less than enjoyable times in the village square when his hearing was sensitive. Usually, he retreated to his quiet home to avoid it, but now it seems to have followed him home. How bothersome.

“Dunno.” Kakashi replied lamely, clearly trying to disguise his discomfort as his nails quickly began to scratch the wooden seat below him as they grew sharper and much more thick. Not that he noticed. Kakashi was a little busy on not trying to topple over to notice the bizarre transformation on his hands.

He heard his father turn the stove off with a click of the knob at his waist. Kakashi could feel the stare on his head, and in no time he painfully listened as his fathers feet transitioned from tile to carpet as he approached. A gentle hand rested on his forehead, ridding his sight of the bangs on it. 

“Are you sick Kakashi? You’re warm.” 

Obviously, Kakashi thought. Instead he opted for “I’m fine Dad, just a little tired,” he tried to take a few subtle deep breaths, ones that his father has trained him to do when the world got a little to aggressive with his senses. “I gotta go soon, Minato-sensei is waiting for me.” He finished curtly.

Kakashi usually prided himself in his burning will, (though many prefer the term stubbornness) but even he had to admit that pushing through this… virus would probably be the end of him. He still had to try, to act like he wasn’t some weak kid who couldn’t handle his own. 

“Your examiners will understand if you're sick,” Sakumo started, now facing Kakashi as he crouched next to him. “Tell me what’s wrong, describe it to me?”

Kakashi sighed. He didn’t even know where to begin. Every part of him felt like it was on fire and that his bones were pushing against his too pale skin. 

“I dunno,” Kakashi repeated. “M’sore all over, and… and my head is just, pounding. My legs too…” 

Kakashi risks a glance at his fathers face and sees the frown that settled itself there. Already he could tell what his father was thinking and was preparing himself for his defense but honestly… Kakashi didn’t think he had it in him. Not when he felt this bad.

“Sore around the gums?” Sakumo prompted, vaguely motioning to his jaw. Kakashi face contorted into confusion as he questioned, 

“How did you know that?”

Sakumo sighs, the sound of the action only exacerbated by whatever the hell was infecting him. “Your body is trying to adjust to your new chakra and it’s making you feel sick. I know it doesn’t feel good, but it’s perfectly normal. It should only last a few days.” 

The what.

Kakashi wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the concept, but it still befuddled him. In all his childishness and later attitude that comes with all pre-teens, Kakashi never bothered to fully listen to any lecture that wasn’t from an instructor's mouth, let alone his fathers. 

He has caught pieces, sure, something about his father trying to tell him something about some weird Hatake-chakra thing that would happen to him once he got old enough. Of course, this was also right after his father’s painful lecture about puberty and so naturally Kakashi had put his mind anywhere else in embarrassment. 

The embarrassment crawled back to him, unsure of how exactly this was going to play out. Kakashi turns his head abruptly and crosses his arms weakly before spitting out, “So?”

“So, it means you’re going to be taking the Jonin exams next year.” Sakumo tries gently. 

Kakashi didn’t know what else he expected. If he was feeling any more hearty, he might've dramatically leapt from his seat if his body didn’t feel a hundred times heavier. Instead, he chose a calmer, but hopefully stern, approach.

“No way, I worked way too hard to give up so soon.” 

“I know,” His father says regrettably. “But your chakra is too sensitive to even try using any jutsu, Kakashi. It’s important that you allow your body to adjust.” Kakashi could hear the plea in his voice at this point. 

He really wanted to be prideful and deny his father’s wishes, but Kakashi really did not have the energy to argue any longer. He was already extremely talented for his age, surely if he waited another year it wouldn’t ruin his prodigal reputation too harshly. 

Kakashi resigned with a sigh, saying nothing as he nodded to non verbally acknowledge the man beside him. 

As he starts round the corner to the hall that leads back to his bedroom, his father gently reaches over the tug on his shirt. 

“And Kakashi?” He whispered. “Rest up as much as you can. It'll only get worse when it's closer to nightfall.” 

At least he tried to look apologetic. With as much sarcasm as a snobby pre-teen could, he responded, “Wonderful. How lucky am I?”

—

And by Hashirama himself, his father was right. 

That evening, the exhaustion in his bones made him so heavy he doesn’t think he even shifted his position in bed even if he got uncomfortable. If he was an any more infamous shinobi, he might’ve thought he had been drugged and any second a kunai would slit his immobile throat. 

(…Okay. Maybe he should tone down the dramatics a bit. (No would dare attack the White Fang’s son in their own home.)) 

Although his limbs refused to cooperate with an equally slow brain, he still could not fall asleep. 

An energy ran rampant through his veins, keeping him alert constantly but unable to physically do anything about it. 

Eventually, his body decided it needed to settle. After an uncomfortable feeling of experiencing his weird new chakra slowly ebb away, his eyes began to blessedly slip closed. 

He let out a very aggravated howl as he reopened his eyes and witnessed the orange sunshine of the slowly dipping sun that still painted his opposite wall. 

In his frustration, he turns his head to glance at the clock that sat beside him. In that split second, it would seem only five minutes had passed and damn it all, was Kakashi getting impatient. 

Wait. He could move again? 

In a bout of strength he definitely did not suspect he had, he sat himself up in his bed with a renowned ease. Kakashi took a moment to breathe, not because the action was taxing, but because he believed that if he moved too fast this illusion would go away. Slowly but surely, his feet once again made contact with the wooden floor below him. 

As Kakashi stretched his understandably tensioned muscles as he made his way to the door. He was positively starving for one thing, only exasburbated by the warm, metallic smell of fresh meat awaiting him down the hall. 

He’s cautious about moving across his floor, really not wanting to tumble over anything that might jolt him too badly. Only then did Kakashi notice the mess on his floor had been removed. 

“Kakashi, are you finally up?” His father ringed out. 

The source of his confusion dwindled slightly, knowing that it must’ve been his father who picked up his room in his miserable state. He was considerate like that, but how did he possibly do it?Kakashi was sure he was conscious the entire time he was bedridden. What the hell..?

Kakashi waited to submit his reply until he rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. A quick “yeah, yeah…” was murmured as he lingered by the corner of the hallway wall. 

“Feeling any better?” 

Kakashi did nothing but echo his earlier statement, eyes now pinned on the meat his father was preparing instead of the floor below him. 

“Ah, hungry are you?” Sakumo turned his back to open an adjacent cabinet, digging for a glass to fill with water. “Makes sense considering you’ve been out for two days,” 

The rest of his comment went unheard as Kakashi puzzlingly put together the statement. Two days? However, as his feet began to move, so did these thoughts as they took a rough trip to the back of his mind. All he was concerned about was getting some food in his stomach. 

Before Sakumo turned around, the piece of meat that was in the midst of being prepared was gone. 

It didn’t take long to find the culprit of the missing cut as his eyes gazed upon his son ravenously devouring the piece at the table. 

“Don’t choke, pup.” Sakumo playfully scolded, slowly making his way to his son with a now full glass of water. 

When he got within a foot of the table, a low, yet loud growl emitted from the boy. Sakumo paused as the glass was in the midst of being settled on the table before slowly being retreated as he took a cautious step backwards.

Kakashi should be feeling something. Disgusted, mortified, ashamed? All of the above seemed likely. He just snarled at his father, who seems oddly unphased by his odd- no, downright bizarre behavior. 

He hasn’t growled at anything since he was a toddler. Honestly, why was he acting like such a kid? Most people his age grow out of that habit by now.

The blood trailed down his arms and pooled within the cotton on his shirt. He only had half a mind to lick his lips periodically to avoid the wet feeling at his collarbone. 

The meat is gone within seconds. Kakashi licks his lips, and in the effort his tongue slid seamlessly over teeth that felt a whole lot sharper. 

Kakashi rests his forearms on the table in front of him and turns to look at his father with an addled expression in his eyes. “Dad…” 

“Don’t worry, Kakashi. There’s still plenty where that came from.” 

Not exactly where he guessed his dad’s train of thought was, but he didn't complain as his fathers hands disappeared into the oven and reappeared with a platter stacked with slabs of meat. 

Thankfully, all of this meat was cooked and Kakashi felt a little less ashamed as he dug in with as much speed as the first time.

Way back when, when Kakashi was all but a pup, he failed to understand why eating raw meat was such a horrible thing. His father never stressed its importance until Kakashi started blabbering about how good the rabbit he caught tasted to anyone who listened. 

He didn’t include the part where it was consumed seconds after its small heart stopped beating, fur being picked out of his teeth with his tongue before his father hurriedly pulled him away. It was only then did Kakashi learn that people outside the clan weren’t particularly immune to meat-borne diseases. 

Kakashi quickly dropped the habit soon after that event. Sakumo told him not to ever do it in public and Kakashi wasn’t confident enough to attempt to do it anyway. 

The memory played in his head as the last of the meat was scraped off the plate with his tongue, collecting the small pools of fat that naturally oozed off the meat now comfortably making its home in his stomach. 

He’s back in his bed in record time, finally falling asleep fully with the stomach to match. He’s out before his head reaches the mattress.

Chapter Text

It’s been two weeks since Kannabi bridge and Obito would not shut up over his Sharingan. Already his face was grating, now his much more than already above average chatter was really sending Kakashi’s patience over the ledge. Obito’s impromptu visit during his trip to the grocers wasn’t helping much either. How hard was it for a man to get his rice in peace?

“-and Kakashi, I’m serious, once I get my third tomoe I’ll be unstoppable! Seriously, even you wouldn’t stand a chance against me.”

“You can’t even beat me with a Sharingan,” Kakashi said coolly. “Aren’t they supposed to be at least mildly challenging at such a low level?”

Kakashi knew that wasn’t all true. They sparred in their free time and he had to admit that he had to actually pay attention for once lest he got himself handed to him by Obito. Of course Obito still never won, but regardless. Kakashi just really wanted him to shut up about ten minutes ago.

Obito balked. “You saw at Kannabi bridge, I kicked all those guy’s asses! And you just stood there and stared. If I didn’t know any better, Kakashi had a little bit of nerves.”

“Nerves. Yes, I do happen to have those,” Kakashi replied dryly.

“You know what I meant, asshole! God, you’re even more insufferable outside of a mission. Even at Kannabi-“

“Kannabi this, Kannabi that. Do you even talk about anything else?” Kakashi spat.

“W- obviously! And get off your damn high horse. As if you weren’t prancing around for days after your own clans… induction… thing!”

Ah yes. The “induction” thing. To everyone else Kakashi took part in a sacred ceremony that he was forbidden to speak of unless it was to another member of his clan. No one knew what happened, all the village’s sensors knew was that Kakashi came back more energized than before and sported a white tint to his chakra signature. They theorized it was part of the ceremony, but they didn’t know what for.

In actuality, Kakashi had gotten so sick because he forgot that eventually his chakra would be replaced by the white chakra native to his clan. He spent days in bed before he could move again, and when he did, he could practically soar across the land of fire. Kakashi didn’t take Obito to be so observant, frankly.

“So? Hatakes have been around far longer. We learned how to be better at being discreet. You know, what our whole purpose of being a shinobi is?”

Obito barked out a laugh. “Yeah? And how did that work out? The Uchiha are the ones who help lead the village, Kakashi!”

His statement hurt a little more than he thought it should. Kakashi never officially met any members outside his clan, but he could feel their betrayal in his father’s chakra on any bad day. “Quality over quantity, Obito.”

“That’s it!” Obito lunged forward, but Kakashi had already predicted this outburst. Sharingan or not, Obito was still as impulsive and stupid as the day he met him.

“Oops, must’ve forgot,” Kakashi slings the heavy rice bag over his shoulder. “I just remembered I have to go help Rin. She’s been asking for a lot of my help these days, seems like she knows a capable shinobi when she sees one.”

Kakashi doesn’t bother to hear the onslaught of retorts and pathetic threats as he jumps up the walls of two nearby buildings and gets to the top of a shop. He quickly makes his way from roof to roof, ducking into alleyways and outmaneuvering Obito in every way his father taught him.

Obito wouldn’t even follow him. He would make his way to the hospital because that’s where Rin spends most of her time these days and hope not to see Kakashi’s face there.

He reaches the village gates in no time at all, bids the guards his goodbyes and disappears into the trees towards his house.

—

“Ahh, Obito! What a surprise to see you. What brings you here?”

“Oh, hi Hatake-sensei. I was just looking around for Kakashi. I was supposed to-“ kick his ass for being a sarcastic know-it-all prick “meet up with him earlier. Is he not here?”

Sakumo furrowed his brows slightly. “Afraid not. Just before he left he said the same thing.”

Oh that sly bastard. Geniuses like him really do think of everything.

“No worries. Wasn’t that big of a deal,” Obito gives a slight bow, “thanks anyway, Hatake-sensei.”

“Not a problem, I’ll have a talk with him when he returns.” Sakumo lightly closes the door and Obito makes his way off the porch and onto the road back to the village.

Really was hard to find this guy. But let it be damned before allowing Kakashi’s point to be made. Obito eyes his peripheral before eventually joining the bushes on the side of the road and making his way where he suspects Kakashi is. It wasn’t entirely unlike him to sprint in any given direction while surrounded by the forest like this.

He walks for a long time. He activates his Sharingan a multitude of times, trying this and that and maybe hoping that it may grant him some unknown superpower of being able to see through the thick foliage like the Hyuuga.

That’s when he gets a brilliant idea. He’s seen Kakashi use his tracking abilities before, surely his Sharingan can copy those skills. What a genius!

He gets to the floor, allowing his fingers to spread in the dirt and takes a deep breath. At first, nothing seems to happen. Obito quickly becomes disappointed, maybe Kakashi’s skills weren’t a jutsu after all.

He stands up and his vision blacks around the edges, and damn if he thought his vision would get any better. Did he forget to eat today or something?

He glances around to find his way back to the main road and finds himself staring right at Kakashi. His vision is still a little blurry, but he can still see that Kakashi actually isn’t in the forest with him. He watches with fascination as he watches Kakashi meander the streets of Konoha, unbeknownst to Obito’s stalking.

Everything rushes back to Obito, his vision changing its focus from Kakashi to a dizzying rush through alleyways and soon tree trunks. He has to balance himself, his eyes closing on instinct and his arms going to a nearby tree unless the dizzy feeling overcomes him. He grins as he reopens his eyes and takes off the street Kakashi was on.

—

“Must’ve overdone it with the Sharingan…” Obito mutters as he approaches the village gates. His head is fuzzy, his eyes burning something fierce as his steps get heavier and heavier.

As soon as he crosses the threshold of gates, Obito has to take one hand to his head. “Damn it,” he hisses.

“You alright, kid?” He hears from his left, and if his pain wasn’t mounting by the second he might’ve been a little more embarrassed at the flinch he gave, his ears trying to avoid the booming of the guards voice as if he wasn’t six feet away from the station.

“Peachy,” Obito could hear the strain from his own voice, “Just trained too hard, I guess. Now I’m…” what was he supposed to be doing again? He came back from somewhere. His voice trails off and Obito makes his way home, not bothering to try and decipher what the guard was telling him.

As his feet dragged in the dirt roads, he heard the idle chatter of the street vendors but found he couldn’t understand a single word. All he knew was that it was loud, like unbearably so. Kami, even his feet on the road made his ears throb.

His eyes shift, trying to find someplace not so deafening and he catches a glimpse of home. He sees his grandmother in her garden, the hose running and creating a horrible screeching that makes his head turn away on reflex. He finds himself in a hospital waiting room, beeping monitors piercing through his skull and then again he finds himself looking at someone’s feet-

“Obito?”

Hands gripping his head, Obito slowly squints up and no other than- that’s right! He was looking for Kakashi! That bastard.

“Kakashi.” Obito replies.

“Any particular reason on the floor in the middle of a dank alley?” Kakashi sounds nonchalant, but his tense shoulders and worried gaze give him all away.

“Any reason you’re shouting at me? Kami,” his vision goes back to staring behind his eyelids as the same dizzying feeling returns. “You’re like, three feet ahead of me. Turn down your voice or something.”

“I’m speaking normally-“

“Shut up!” The grip on his head hardens. His chest begins to rise and fall even faster. Because now Kakashi is watching him being a huge baby over a little overstimulation. “Please,” Obito whispers.

Kakashi gets down on the floor with him, his actions slow and deliberate. He’s almost soundless, which Obito is thankful for.

“Are you hurt?” Kakashi whispers.

“I- I don’t know. I think it's my Sharingan,” Obito supplies.

“Can I see?”

Obito removes his hands, deliberately controlling his breathing before that dizzy feeling comes back and he’s somewhere he shouldn’t be again. He looks up, Kakashi brushing his bangs from his eyes as his pupils meet him.

Obito sees the way Kakashi looks him over, and he’s not sure he likes it. Kakashi’s eyes furrow, and damn his stupid mask because he can’t tell what else he’s thinking. He is about to retort before Kakashi speaks.

“You’re very warm,” Kakashi states. “You should go home and rest. Stay in bed for a day or two and burn Kyro root, it helps with the dizziness. If it gets too bad, send someone for me and my dad will know what to do.”

Sounded like a pretty good plan to Obito. He muses on the idea of his soft bed the entire time Kakashi helps him up. They take the alleyways, avoiding the busiest streets and Kakashi is careful to remind Obito not to jostle his head too much, squeezing his shoulder when the noise gets too much.

Kakashi drops Obito off on his bed, helping remove his sandals as Obito tightens into a ball. Kakashi walks around the room, carefully closing the blinds and making the room as generally soundproof as he can with the things he can find.

“Obito?”

“What?” Came a mumble from the covers.

Kakashi contemplated whether or not to scold him, but that would snowball into conversation neither of them were prepared for. Ioruso was a fragile technique. Easy to replicate, but hard on a body not built to withstand it.

“Rest well. It only gets worse the closer to nightfall,” he recites from his dad’s lecture. “Especially in your case…” he added lightly.

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks. Bakashi,” Obito gives Kakashi his signature grin. “When I get better, remind me how you became the team medic, alright?”

Kakashi gave a curt nod before the two became silent, Obito’s light snores slowly coming from the lump of blankets on the bed.

—

Obito awoke to something burning.

Immediately he shot straight up into bed– it wouldn’t be the first time he left the stove on– before he realized that he couldn’t. His muscles were like jelly, his brain still a little mushy too.

“Morning, Obito.” He gave another undignified flinch at the greeting, forcing his sore muscles in his shoulders to his ears and cutting a fierce glance at the boy on the other side of the room.

“Wah! Kakashi!? What are you still doing here?” He growls.

“Looking after the idiot who decided to use a technique too foreign to him and is now bedridden.”

Obito groans. “Is that why you’re picking up arsonry in my bedroom? And…” Obito looks around his room and is baffled at the amount of rugs on the floor and the pillow mounted on his windowsill. “…interesting choices in interior decorating?”

“Kyro root, remember? Helps with dizziness. Everything else helps with the noise.”

“I remember, but how do you know that?”

“Dad told me what can happen to those who use Ioraso without being Hatake. Ioruso needs a specific kind of chakra, our chakra, to work in tandem with our bodies to work smoothly. Someone outside the clan,” Kakashi gives Obito a glare, “will be forcing their chakra to turn into something it's not and poisoning their body in the process.”

Obito played with the word, something about it feeling familiar. He deduced that the incident yesterday was this Ioraso Kakashi spoke of, except he still didn’t know why Kakashi never mentioned it by name before now. Did he-

“Did I just accidentally recreate a sort-of-not-
really blood limit?”

“Obviously not very well.” Kakashi said from the floor.

“Har har. But seriously, poisoning? I’ll be okay though right..?” Obito shuffled nervously in the sheets, trying to sound unbothered but the crack at the end of his sentence gave him away.

Kakashi glances at him from his perihelial and says, “If you are smart enough to not to try this kind of thing again, yes.” Kakashi is ruffling through one of his mission bags, the clanking and shuffling being a little grating to Obito’s ears. He mustered all of the nonchalance he had (which wasn’t a whole lot) and said,

“Noted. Now can you leave me alone? I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Your temperature is 103.3. You are not fine.”

“Then why am I still here? Shouldn’t I be in a hospital?”

“The doctor wouldn’t know what to do. That’s why I’m here.” Kakashi shuffles over the side of the bed, a small metal container in his hand and tannish pills in the other. “Take it.”

“Righttt. Because Kakashi doesn’t like the doctors means his teammate has to suffer for it. Seriously, what makes you think this is any better than what the doctors can do?”

Kakashi’s gaze steels. “Chakra that’s not standard often attracts the wrong kinds of attention. I’ll hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t want to end up as a lab rat.”

That… makes a lot of sense, actually. Kakashi and his family were notorious for disliking hospitals. Even mandatory examinations like blood work or chakra physicals were vetoed by Sakumo. He supposes using a technique that was another clans and immediately having someone outside of it poking and prodding at it wasn’t the smartest idea.

Kakashi handed the pills onto Obito’s shaking hand, still clammy from the bouts of nausea he had to endure for the past few hours. The bucket at the foot of the bed had to be cleaned out repeatedly, but it seems like Obito didn’t remember most of it.

“Seriously though. Don’t do this again. I don’t want to be stuck playing nanny anymore than you do,” the sarcasm is lost between them, something about his stiff posture canceling the effect. Does Obito know just how dangerous this stunt of his was? Sakumo never sought out any threat to those willing to replicate the jutsu, but he did give plenty of warning. Typically the results that came after were severe enough to dissuade any of those curious enough to try.

Obito merely nodded in response, the tip of his retort lost as whatever was in the pills were already making him drowsy. Kakashi was relieved to see his skin return to a relatively normal color, if the slight color in his cheeks were anything to go by. At least they weren’t bone white. At least his lips weren’t blue.

And at least his chest kept rising again after the first time it stopped.

Chapter Text

One of the many distinctive features of the Hatake clan was their anatomy. Clearly, they hosted heads full of silvery hair and had a unique tint to their chakra signatures to compliment it.

What was hidden from the normal glance though, was their teeth.

Hatake children teethed and when they did they did so terribly. They teethe far longer than the average child and with such an intensity that even an Inuzuka pup would be impressed.

Starting when Kakashi was no more than five months old, Sakumo had found his son with bloody fingers and almost died of an early onset heart attack before he found the things responsible for the injury right in Kakashi’s mouth. Two small incisors poked from swollen gum and Sakumo had to mentally prepare himself for the stress these tiny things would cause. He just hoped everyone who stared at him buying dozens of teething toys had made the same conclusion and assumed he was being a paranoid first-time father.

Sakumo had grossly underestimated his son and his destructive capabilities.

He found he had to replace the things every day it seemed like. Within the first month he was back at the store making purchases that would probably make most question the spending habits of one of the most famous shinobi in Konoha.

Already on their way home, Kakashi had begun to fret and before Sakumo could dig out one of the hard plastic toys, he could only harshly breathe out his nose when the infant took a fistfull of the hair in his pony tail and launched it into his mouth. At least if his habits strayed away from skin or more fingernails, Sakumo could live with it.

Sakumo could not live with it.

The next day he had left his son alone for two minutes when he went to check on the soup in the kitchen and consequently found the table legs to the side table by the couch with little teeth marks and even more wooden shavings on the floor.

Passersby had to wonder why the White Fang had to buy three new coffee tables in a single year.

—

Jiraiya eyed the ravaged books covers that were rescued from the floor, previously tripped over since his impromptu visit to the Hatake household. “Since when did you get a dog?”

Sakumo looked at him blankly, something tiring appearing in his eyes. “I didn’t.”

“Don’t tell me you let the wolves live with you.”

Sakumo’s eyes widened a bit. “Ah, nono. You see, I was watching a friend's dog. Bratty little thing, just a few months old and can’t tell the difference between good literature and a teething toy.”

“You mean a dog toy?”

“That’s what I said.”

Jiraiya picked up the book, letting out a sympathetic grimace upon seeing the title. First edition books all the way from the Land of Iron were not cheap.

“If you tell me who this friend of yours is, I’ll be sure to remind them to compensate you for the trouble.” Jiraiya said as he walked to the door.

“Don’t worry so much about it. I’ll teach the cub how to play nice with nice things eventually.”

Jiraiya was gone by the time Sakumo turned to the babbling infant in the crib on the living room floor and picked up Kakashi.

“One day, you’ll come home and all your nice things will have suspiciously dad-shaped teeth marks on them. How would that feel?” Kakashi shrieked as he was lifted into the air.

“No? You don’t like the sound of that?” Sakumo lowered Kakashi back to eye level, making direct eye contact as he opened his mouth wide and started biting the air around Kakashi’s ears, making low growling sounds as he bared his teeth playfully.
The baby babbled some more, pulling his tiny hands up and resting them on his father’s chin as he made his own efforts to show off his few teeth.

“Ah,” Kakashi said in lieu of a growl.

“Close, cub.” Sakumo looked into his eyes, still not fully mature from baby blue to the black eyes like him or the brown of his mother. “Close,”

—

By the time Kakashi had developed his full set of teeth, his classmates were beginning to lose theirs.

Oddly enough, the Hatake clan simply do not grow baby teeth. Their adult teeth grow in right away, the marrow growing stronger as the years pass to a startling efficiency that for some reason the rest of humanity hasn’t latched onto yet.

So it makes perfect sense why Kakashi thought his classmate was utterly insane when he witnessed his first encounter with the childish ritual of the teeth on string technique.

“What are you doing?” Kakashi said, mortified. He had walked in the academy that morning to find his classmates crowded at the door, all in various states of awe and excitement as Gai aligned his face with the handle of an opening door that must’ve been a storage closet. Thin, clear string was latched firmly on the door handle, connecting straight to Gai’s near white teeth.

“His tooth was really bothering him,” replied Asuma. “Said he wanted it gone sooner or later.”

Kakashi was speechless. “Why not go to the dentist then?” He balked. Kakashi was all for self sufficiency, but he had never heard of such lunacy in his life.

“Why would he? Doctors don’t take out the babies, they usually come out on their own. And in Gai’s case,” Asuma pointed out, “he’s not exactly the most patient around here is he?”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. When did they progress from teeth to babies? His next statement about the obvious importance of healthy maintenance of teeth was interrupted by a slamming door and chorus of cheers.

Kakashi grimaced at the lone tooth hanging by the thread at the door. Upon closer inspection, the tooth was noticeably small and not very sharp at all. Kakashi poked at his own with his tongue unconsciously.

“Did it hurt? Does it hurt Gai?” Raido said, somehow oblivious to the gushing blood that spewed from Gai’s mouth.

“Never better! It might hurt a little now, but this is just one step closer to embracing the epitome of youth! Just need to wait for the rest and this little amount of pain will be so worth it.”

“The rest? Gai, you want to keep the teeth in your mouth. What, how are you going to be the first shinobi with a worm mouth?” Kakashi retorted.

That gained a chorus of snickers across the room. Some at his comment, mostly because the girls thought everything he said was hilarious.

Gai raised a hand to his probably sore chin. “Well, no. They’ll grow back in no time, I think. My other one grew twice as fast as the first!”

“The ‘baby’ one?” Kakashi guessed.

“You sound like an alien trying to pass as human,” Obito butted in. “Obviously the baby ones! What, the genius in our class doesn’t know how mouths work? Some prodigy.”

“I could beat you in anything, any day.”

“Try me!” Obito got into an exaggerated stance, his legs wide and fisted curled to strike. He hops up and down on his heels as if it makes him any more prepared for the full 50ish pounds Kakashi launches at him.

Kakashi tackles him to the ground, Obito already grappling his shirt and twisting his body so Kakashi is now the one pinned to the floor. They grapple for a long moment, students throwing in jabs and cheers as they roll around trying to gain the high ground, hands not quite punching but not quite slapping either.

When Kakashi is on the floor again is when he has had enough. Obito was bigger than him and obviously any academy student doesn’t have weapons outside of supervised training. So what any competent shinobi would’ve done, Kakashi
used his resources.

The next time Obito’s hand pushed against his face, Kakashi tilted his chin toward the fingers there, opened his mouth, and shut his jaw as hard as he could.

Thankfully, everyone was too busy with Obito’s screaming to notice the black creeping up his veins much. Those who did say his hunched over form was discomfort from the fight he and Obito just got into.

Kakashi was forced to wear the mask after that. Which was stupid, in Kakashi’s opinion. For some reason his mouth was better than all of his classmates' weak “baby” teeth and was being punished for it. He was usually in better control of his anger and assured his father it wouldn’t happen again. Sakumo didn’t look convinced as Kakashi begrudgingly lifted the fabric over his nose.