Capítulo 10: Chapter 10: ladybugs
Aburame Shibi is a quiet man, not a shy one. Frequently, many make the mistake in assuming, as he avoids crowds and lengthy conversations and speaks with a voice that sounds a bit like gravel. It's been a few months since the man offered Toshiro his help after they'd located the Root base. He's learned that Shibi is quiet because he prefers to be. That the Aburame enjoys solitude and abhors crowds, not because they make him nervous but because he gets annoyed at the noise.
He is also viciously, brutally honest; speaking his mind with a sharp sort of intelligence that comes with being a Clan Head and experienced shinobi. As expected, he and Toshiro get along swimmingly.
Toshiro lays out his ideas for child care reforms, points out probable funding needs, and announces his desire for an overhaul of the system dealing with orphaned children going down the shinobi path.
No beating around the bush.
Shibi looks it over. He cuts some ideas down and plants a few new ones. They argue without really arguing, both of their temperaments considerably on the cool side. It's different from debating with Fugaku. It's also very different from dealing with Shikaku, who has more charisma under that lazy exterior than most realize.
By the time Touma is released into Kakashi's (and Toshiro's) care, the Aburame have funded the restoration and refurbishing of all six orphanages around Konoha. It's slow going, of course, because there isn't anywhere else to put the kids so the buildings have to be done piece by piece. There's also the matter of the chunk of Konoha destroyed in the battle with Danzo, which is where most contractors and volunteers are putting their efforts into. So it's….getting there. But nowhere near done.
While they wait, they work on the legal aspect of everything. The meat of the reforms, you could say. They open up hiring opportunities for more childcare workers. A plot of land in the shinobi district is purchased, the building set to be destroyed and then rebuilt into a seventh 'orphanage'. Of sorts. It'll serve as a place to live for all orphaned children looking to be shinobi. Being in the shinobi district meant they were closer to the training grounds and shops catering specifically to shinobi, which allowed them to be more immersed in the life they were choosing to lead.
Shibi recommended they hire retired shinobi to watch over and guide the kids. There were a couple they'd already reached out to, some older and retired due to age, others younger and retired due to injury.
These kinds of reforms have to go through the Council. They're basically pushing to relocate academy children (who are considered a village resource, sadly) and put them in a group living situation with supervision. Writing up the presentation for such a thing meant all the details had to be airtight. Toshiro made sure to highlight every single pro he could think of.
Children will receive the skills required to care and provide for themselves. They'll have access to resources, such as retired shinobi, who can provide them with training tips and supervision. They'll form bonds with their fellow academy students — and he really plays into Konoha's whole 'teamwork is essential' bit while he writes — and learn healthy social skills. The goal is to improve their overall skill-sets and quality of life, with the desired and predicted result of increasing the life expectancy and mental health of Konoha's shinobi population.
It probably doesn't hurt that he personally knows quite a few of the Clan Heads, who all have seats on the Council. The civilian part of the Council agree to it without much thought, because the money isn't coming out of their pockets.
The proposal passes with flying colors.
But the actual changes won't reach completion for some time yet.
Toshiro can't wait.
"You get to pick your room, Touma-kun." Toshiro announces, gesturing to the hall that breaks off from the living room. "There's quite a few down there, then some on the second floor. Feel free to explore….the only rooms taken are mine and Kakashi's, both on this floor."
Touma nods, peering around curiously. He removes his sandals at the door and takes his time padding around the living room and attached kitchen, looking at every appliance and staring at the occasional traditional wall scroll with wide eyes.
The art pieces had come from Kakashi. Toshiro doesn't know where the man had found them, but he only presented the scrolls after cleaning out that taped off room so he can make an educated guess. It had been a personal endeavour — the man had strictly told the genin teams not to enter. As it was, the room remained locked. Kakashi seemed to have no desire to open it up again, but at least all that sealing tape was gone and the inside was presumably cleaned out.
All of Kakashi's dogs laze around in the living room, crowding the floor space and couch cushions. Touma eyes them with an odd expression, like he's not sure of what he's seeing.
"Guys, this is Touma." Kakashi introduces awkwardly, gesturing at the dark-haired boy with one hand. "Touma, these are my nin-dogs."
Like a dam is broken, the dogs surge around the boy eagerly, their voices mingling as they attempt to introduce themselves at the same time. Touma looks overwhelmed at the information but also — happy. He pets at whichever dog surges by his hands. Bisuke hops on Touma's shoulder and noses at his curls and Bull nudges at the boy's side, Uhei and Guruko pressing close, tails wagging.
Pakkun sits back on the couch, "Welcome to the pack, kid."
For dinner, they have a meal prepared by Chouji's mother — in celebration of Touma's arrival. He kicks his legs in little excited bursts as he eats, cheeks puffy and lavender eyes sparkling. Shiba is sleeping by his chair and Pakkun has settled himself against the boy's head; his little body flattening dark curls, somehow swaying Touma into giving him bites of the meal.
Toshiro meets Kakashi's eyes across the table and grins. The other man looks as if he feels out of place, watching the two with a drooping eye. Whatever emotion he's feeling — Toshiro thinks it's contemplative rather than negative. Otherwise Kakashi would have disappeared the second he finished his food. Which he had, before either Toshiro or Touma were even half-way through theirs.
(Had to protect his face, Toshiro supposes.)
It's funny, Toshiro has never really thought about why Kakashi covers his face. The mask is such an integral part of Kakashi, at this point it's almost weird to question it. They'd met during a time when Kakashi was just a mask. ANBU were the Elite. The type whose identities were simply not meant to be known. Kakashi hadn't cared enough to hide his identity. Not then. Toshiro sees now that it was a reckless sort of behavior born of trauma. Like he'd always known — everyone Kakashi had been associated with, his father, his teammates, his sensei, had all died. Tragically. Even before he'd known the other man as well as he does today, Toshiro had also always known that Kakashi worked himself to the bone with little care for his own person. It was almost suicidal, how frequently Kakashi had thrown himself into ANBU mission after ANBU mission.
The man certainly ended up in the hospital enough for Toshiro to pick up on that.
Toshiro doesn't think Kakashi knows how to be soft. He carries himself like a strung bow, taut and prepared to fire at any second. The loose set of his shoulders and disinterested gaze is just another mask, a way to prevent attachment or another's desire to look too closely at him.
A mask under a mask under a mask.
Toshiro wonders if Kakashi hides his face because he hasn't figured out who he is yet.
(Or maybe he really does hate his father.)
(Maybe it's both.)
Or maybe he doesn't hate his father, and that's why he can't stand to see himself.
Toshiro washes the dishes and teaches Touma how, catching more than one plate when they slip between the boy's fingers. He puts Touma to bed. Tells him where he can find Toshiro's room if need be. Where he can find Kakashi's.
He runs a gentle hand through the boy's dark hair and pulls the covers up to his chin. Touma watches it all with watery eyes, and murmurs a soft goodnight, like he's not sure if he's allowed.
"Good night, Touma." Toshiro whispers in reply.
He finds Kakashi back in the main room, slouched against the couch with three dogs in his lap. That lone, dark eye is staring up at the ceiling, looking but not seeing.
He sits down beside the silver-haired man, leaving about a foot between them. "You've been oddly quiet."
"This may come as a surprise, but I'm not very talkative to begin with."
Toshiro makes a face, "You're deflecting."
Kakashi exhales, scarred hands absently running through dog fur.
After it becomes clear that the man is struggling, Toshiro decides to take the plunge, "It feels awful, doesn't it?"
Kakashi tilts his head, silvery strands sliding across his forehead. The low lighting deepens shadows brought on by the lines of his face. He looks somehow older than his twenty-three years. He doesn't speak. But he's listening.
"Trying to open up. Kind of nauseating, actually. Like every nerve is on fire and if you open your mouth then everything will change." Toshiro pauses. "Or maybe you think it's a weakness. That keeping quiet will make me think more of you."
"I think you'll think whatever you wish of me, no matter what I do." Kakashi mutters. "It's infuriating."
Toshiro furrows his brow. He feels — nervous. Weird. He's not sure what's wrong, only that something is. Maybe Kakashi is realizing that he's made a mistake in taking in the kids, or he's growing overwhelmed now that the reality of his situation has smacked him across the face.
"You're angry with me?"
"No," Kakashi says, tone a little off and eye curving into a false smile. "I'm jealous, actually."
"Of what? Me?" It seems so wildly out of the blue — completely the opposite of what Toshiro had been thinking.
A hum. "Looks like."
The next pause is strained.
Kakashi puts a hand to his face and covers his visible eye. "I'm jealous….of your ability to be kind."
"You're not cruel, Kakashi." Toshiro whispers.
A mirthless laugh spills from Kakashi's masked lips, "Maa, it's actually what I'm best at, didn't you know?"
There are a variety of reasons this could be happening. This being some kind of depressive episode. An unfortunate side-effect of their profession, and one that didn't look well treated at all. God, the Yamanaka really need to pick up their mental health game. Mandatory therapy should be a MUST for shinobi. Assumptions won't get him anywhere, however.
He leans closer, until he can feel the heat of Kakashi's body — always a little higher than natural. "Being a shinobi may be what you're best at, but that does not always translate to cruel. Humans are too complex to be one single adjective. What made you feel as though you can't be kind?"
"I don't know how to deal with kids." Kakashi replies, sliding his hand down to the lower half of his face. "Never have, not even when I was one. My whole life was rules — and then it wasn't. And then I was alone. There was never anyone to tell me how to feel when I sit at a table with a child who looks happy to be here, who lives here."
Oh. Toshiro thinks. So that's it.
Kakashi doesn't know how to have a family.
He swallows. What can he say? Toshiro is no therapist. But he….he cares for Kakashi. He hates to see the man look so lost, struggling to adjust to the rapid changes to his once orderly life.
"There's no guidebook." He begins haltingly, carefully thinking over his words as they leave his mouth, "To be frank, the three of us are all in the same boat here. Hell, the ten of us! We can figure it out as we go. I know it might not be the answer you want...but if you're so worried about how to act, just imagine what you wanted as a child."
"What I wanted?"
Toshiro shrugs, their shoulders pressing together. Kakashi doesn't move away. "I imagine it was something like what I wanted. Attention. Someone to just be there. To just….know that I wasn't alone."
Kakashi drops his hand back down to the dogs in his lap. He turns his head to the side and they watch each other, face to face and merely a few inches apart. Kakashi searches Toshiro's rosy eyes with an intensity that makes Toshiro's heart flutter uncomfortably.
"How can you share pieces of yourself so easily?" The man whispers.
A little confused, Toshiro replies, "Well, it's you, isn't it?"
That dark eye widens, lithe frame tensing with shock rather than discomfort. At the edge of his mask, the skin of Kakashi's cheekbone begins to flush pink. "Aheh…"
Toshiro's fingers tingle. Kakashi looks at him with such bewilderment — the flush spreading to the visible tips of his ears. This close, Toshiro can count every pale, silvery eyelash gracing that one eye. An eye that Toshiro had previously assumed to be black, but now appeared to be an incredibly dark shade of gray-blue. The space between them is warm with the combination of their body heat and the weight of slumbering dogs.
It feels — It feels. Weird. A slow burn in his gut, swirling like a hundred butterflies. His pulse picks up, as fast as the beat of a hummingbird's wings. Warmth blooms across his face, a sensation he can feel — oh. He's blushing.
They stare at each other for a very long moment, and Toshiro realizes he's said something that carries a bit more weight than anticipated. He's….embarrassed? No. Maybe. He meant it, so why feel embarrassed about it?
Kakashi coughs. The sun has completely gone down, the ambient light disappearing from the few windows in the room. All that's left is the soft flickering of lantern light, washing Kakashi's pale colors with gold. Toshiro is close enough to see the movement of his jaw as he opens his mouth to speak.
"If the next thing out of your mouth is self-deprecating, I will be very….cross." He interupts. Kakashi's jaw snaps shut so fast his teeth click.
One of the dogs grumbles sleepily.
"It's okay to still be learning. There's no expiration date for new experiences, Kakashi." Toshiro murmurs, the heat on his cheeks slowly receding. "Even if that new experience is something as simple as hearing the words I trust you. 'Cause I do. Trust you, that is. Which is why it's easy for me to talk to you about myself."
Kakashi eyes him, "But not everything."
"No," he replies, soft and a little regretful, "There are still a few things that…"
"Make you feel nauseous." Kakashi repeats, "Like every nerve is on fire and if you open your mouth then everything will change."
A huff of laughter escapes him, "Yes. Like that. But those are things I need to work on by myself before I can let someone else know."
"...I have stuff like that too."
He levels a droll look at the man, "You know, I wouldn't have guessed."
Like that, the odd tension is broken. Kakashi's muscle loosen, an easy light returning to his eye. His eye curves into his signature smile substitute, and this time it doesn't look incredibly fake. "There are things I can tell you, though. I trust you, too."
Toshiro sniffs, "Well I would hope so, seeing as we're living together."
Some time later, when Toshiro is curled under the sheets of his new bed, he ponders the emotion that had ached under his ribs. He runs calloused fingertips over his own cheeks, unable to feel the spray of freckles decorating them but knowing they're there. He'd blushed.
Kakashi was paler than him, but Toshiro wasn't exactly very tan to begin with. A crimson flush would be starkly obvious on his features, just as it was on Kakashi's — peeking tauntingly out from under that mask.
Two idiots just sitting there. Blushing at each other.
Toshiro snorts and turns, pressing his cheek into the cool pillow. They've known each other for almost five years. At this point, Kakashi is probably the one friend he trusts the most, right up there with Yukimura-sensei.
And yet it was starting to feel a little different.
He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will himself to sleep. Toshiro has always known — well, it had been rather obvious, with all the man's admirers...but it was one thing to merely acknowledge, and another to actively notice.
What a time to realize he finds Hatake Kakashi attractive.
Touma decides he wants to be a shinobi. It's a bit of a relief, all things considered, because it takes up a good chunk of his day throughout the week and lets Toshiro work without worry. Kakashi begins to take missions once more, careful to request the ones with a max time limit of three days. It would be far too much to ask the Copy Nin to settle for a desk job like a Chuunin, or remain content with guard duty.
Toshiro is pretty sure that Kakashi will resume taking longer missions once all the kids are settled in. As it is, he's making sure to keep up with Toshiro in visiting once a week.
Chiasa had her ears pierced a few weeks back and she's been wearing the sapphire studs that Toshiro bought her some time ago. Her once choppy, strawberry-blond hair is now down to her shoulders.
Toshiro can't believe how much time has passed. His own hair is at the middle of his back — it's no wonder Naruto assumed him to be related to Ino the first time they'd officially met. He's not sure how long he wants to grow it. Maybe he'll get a trim soon.
He brings Sai more art supplies, and the boy very quietly shows off the work he's done so far. Kakashi actually puts his books away and sorts through the images.
"You're good at this." He comments lightly, and Sai looks at Kakashi like he can't believe the words came out of his mouth. Kakashi pretends not to see.
Shikamaru sometimes appears, scooting through the doorway when he's able to escape from his friends. He somehow manages to find whichever room they're in everytime he and the others are playing at Ino's. The little girl with lavender hair and pretty brown eyes asks him about books, about his parents, about the deer. She's soft spoken but soaks up the attention of another child — this one not from Root.
She names herself Kojika, smiling shyly at them when she does.
It means fawn.
The next time Shikamaru strolls in, she calls him Nii-san. The boy turns completely red but does not leave. Instead he flops against Toshiro's back and hides his face while feigning sleep. They don't really know all the children's birthdays. Their ages were speculated after examinations. She's probably the same age as Shikamaru, but his cool demeanor — laziness aside — seems to have pegged him as the older brother.
It's not long after that Toshiro becomes Nii-san for almost all the children as well.
He's only around nine or ten years older than the oldest, after all. Too young to be mistaken for their father. Having a gaggle of little siblings doesn't sound so bad.
Shikamaru, on the other hand, has no idea what to do about the situation he's found himself in. Once it gets around to the Hatake kids that Shikamaru is Toshiro's little brother, they pull him into the fold.
Greedy for family.
The only ones who don't call Shikamaru nii-san or some variation of it are Chiasa and Sai. Chiasa, because she's probably a year or so older, and Sai because...well. They don't know yet. He acknowledges that Kakashi and Toshiro are his guardians, but he refuses to call them anything remotely familial. (Not that they push him to do so.)
The other children….they're so young. In the face of easy acceptance and love, they sink into it without abandon, enraptured by the swelling of their hearts.
"You're part of the pack now," Kakashi murmurs to the youngest, little Takehiko. The nin-dogs have been summoned and gather around the kid until only tufts of brown hair and wide, amber eyes can be seen.
Pack.
The children cling to it.
They were treated carefully for a while, kept mostly away from each other while they were assessed and the worst of their habits unlearned. Then they were allowed to play with each other, to interact and form bonds with one another. To introduce a concept like pack?
Toshiro feels his heart thud in his chest as he watches Kakashi pull Takehiko from the pile, scolding his dogs in that lazy tone of his — Bull, he's too small to sit on.
And. Well.
He swallows and presses a hand to his sternum. Kakashi looks back at him, arms full of maybe-seven-year-old, whose hands are attempting to reach down and continue petting the massive dog that almost crushed him. Silver hair gleams in the splash of sunlight spilling in from the room's wide window, the shadow of a bar cutting across his shoulder.
Toshiro smiles.
Chiasa comes home. It's a bit of surprise for Touma, who stumbles out of his room in the morning only to find his sister in the kitchen. He's dressed in dark purple shorts and a black, mesh-woven shirt with the Hatake clan symbol on the back. His academy wear.
"Chiasa!" He exclaims, then tugs a chair over so he can sit next to her. She gifts him with the shadow of a smile, stilling finding it a bit difficult to translate the emotions she feels to actual expressions. She's also dressed for the day, black shinobi-grade pants and a white tee-shirt, topped with a sleeveless, hooded, dark blue vest. The Hatake symbol is embroidered on the back, only half visible under the hood.
The tailor had gotten their order of clothes in — and what a huge order it was. Picking clothes was easy when they could show the kids a catalog and let them choose what they wanted, but getting everything personalized for a Clan? If Kakashi was taking the Council Seat as Hatake Clan Head, that meant they needed to represent themselves accordingly.
Which meant a lot of money spent on eight wardrobes, almost all the shirts, jackets, sweaters — anything that was considered a top — marked with a symbol that Toshiro likened to a rubik's cube. Except. Only white outlines. He doesn't say this aloud because that particular toy doesn't exist here.
Kakashi is not far behind Touma, sauntering into the room, outfitted in his usual jounin clothes — sans the flak jacket. He bops both of the kids on the head as he passes the table, and while Chiasa looks startled, Touma grabs his head and pouts. Kakashi has been attempting to be more personable with the kids, and the result is that he tends to treat them a little like dogs. Patting heads and offering snacks when he's not sure what to do.
Touma has grown accustomed to Kakashi's antics in the two weeks he's been here. The head pat is basically a breakfast time custom at this point.
As neither Toshiro nor Kakashi can cook very well, most of their meals are on the simple side — if they don't end up with hand-outs from the Akimichi. At least breakfast is a relatively easy meal to provide. Toast, cereal, oatmeal — all the kinds of food that takes very little skill or effort to make. Toshiro fusses over the stove, heating up a big pan of scrambled eggs. Simple.
Well, he doesn't burn them.
"I want to go to the Academy." Chiasa announces after demolishing three slices of toast. "Please." She adds as an afterthought.
"Ok." Kakashi says. His plate is empty in seconds and he's ignoring the scowl Touma sends him at the missed opportunity to see his face.
Toshiro swallows a mouthful of scrambled eggs, "We'll get you signed up today when Touma gets dropped off." She's almost at graduating age, but she'll probably have a year or two to get to know her peers. It's too bad that she's probably not going to be in the same year as Shikamaru and the rest.
He hopes she'll be okay.
Touma holds his hand as they walk to the Academy. He talks to Chiasa about what he's been up to while with Toshiro and Kakashi. He focuses especially on the dogs.
"Kakashi-nii said we can each have one. He promised, so that means it's definitely gonna happen."
Toshiro presses his lips together to stop a chuckle.
Chiasa blinks and nods her head, "I see. I look forward to it, then."
He doesn't miss the glimmer of excitement in her crystalline eyes. Forget children, the house is going to be overflowing with dogs.
He fills out paperwork for Chiasa, wondering a bit at the fact that he's even allowed to do so in Kakashi's place. He doesn't wear the Hatake Clan symbol, nor is he a Hatake. The Chuunin sensei doesn't seem to realize that Toshiro isn't Chiasa's actual, legal guardian.
Well.
That's another issue concerning the Academy that needs a bit of fixing. How can they be so lax about this kind of thing? If they weren't checking for approved guardianship, then any old schmuck could sign up a kid into the shinobi lifestyle. Plus, the paperwork! It would be faulty or counterfeit!
He'll have to put it on the list. Or maybe just rewrite the whole thing to get some anxiety out. For now, he'll just use it to his advantage and sign up Chiasa.
He's basically her guardian anyway.
Ah. He's co-parenting, isn't he?
Toshiro signs off, mimicking Kakashi's signature with ease. He hands the papers to the Chuunin with a grin. The man gives a polite smile in return and doesn't even bother to look thoroughly at the pages he'd just been given.
"She'll just have to take an assessment test so we can place her in a fitting year." The man says, turning to Chiasa and giving her a smile. "You can call me Mizuki-sensei. I'll be overseeing the test. You ready?"
Chiasa glances up at Toshiro, and he meets her look with a supportive smile. "I'll be here when you're finished." He's lucky enough to have the day off today. Er, at least until 11PM. Then he's in for an eight hour shift. Just in time to get home when the kids start waking up.
Straightening her back, Chiasa nods and turns back to Mizuki-sensei. "Ok. I'm ready to begin."
(She places in sixth year, out of seven. Shikamaru and his friends are in their fifth year. It's too bad she's not with them despite being a little bit older. Still, he's just glad she'll have more time to get to know her classmates. Chiasa could easily graduate if she wanted.)
"Hey." His voice is almost lost among the hustle and bustle of Konoha's market district.
She looks up at him as they walk. Class for her won't begin until tomorrow, so the Academy can process the paperwork. There's nothing left for them to do but head home.
He jerks a thumb at the grocery store. "Wanna get some ice cream as a treat for dessert tonight?"
"I've never had ice cream." Chiasa replies, brows furrowed.
Toshiro tries very hard not to gape, "What! Well, now we have to get some!"
She frowns curiously but follows after him as he flits through the crowd, acting as his silent shadow. The grocery store he enters is not his usual one, just the first he spotted. It's going to take some getting used to, living in a different part of Konoha and subsequently having a different array of stores close by.
The store isn't large, and for mid-day it isn't very packed. It's a relief, since the summer sun was already too hot without all those bodies crowding the street. Inside it's at least ten degrees cooler.
Chiasa looks around with wide, sky blue eyes, stalling every once in a while to look at whatever catches her attention.
He gets three cartons: vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. Might as well go all out so she can get a sense of her options. Hopefully Kakashi won't mind….not that the man looks in the freezer anyway. He barely knows how to use his own kitchen!
.
.
.
Turns out she likes strawberry.
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