Capítulo 11: Chapter 11: stalks
Jiraiya arrives almost a full year after Danzo's death, with no Tsunade in tow. While he is a man known for… less than savory ambitions, he's also one of the strongest shinobi Konoha has at its disposal. Toshiro thinks they would do better with a leader who was known for their smarts rather than their strength.
By the time Jiraiya has reluctantly settled into his role as interim Hokage (settled by the fact that no, this isn't a ploy to get him into the village permanently and yes, Uchiha Itachi will take his place), the Hatake household contains three more members.
Of the eight, five now reside within the Hatake Compound. Chiasa, Sai, Kojika, Touma, and Takehiko. Remaining is the identified third oldest child, the boy with light, sandy brown hair and startling silver eyes; Haruki, now maybe-nine with dirty blond hair and honey colored eyes, the scar still prominent on his face, as is the missing chunk of his right ear; the last is the girl with mahogany hair and muddy green eyes, who's the second youngest and having the hardest time readjusting.
(It's not long, however, before the third oldest calls himself Gin, a nod to the stunning color of his eyes.)
"When do we each get our own puppy?" Kojika asks, tugging on Kakashi's shirt with her hand. At maybe-ten she's comically shorter than him, reaching just past his waist. Her lavender hair is tied into a bun that mimics Toshiro's frequent hospital-ready look.
Kakashi puts a hand on her head and shakes it gently, "When your three other siblings get here."
Kojika nods resolutely, "Pack's not complete yet."
"Pack's not complete yet." Kakashi repeats in agreement.
Five children is already a very full household. The only blessing is that no matter what they choose, all must receive education. Whether that's at the Academy or a civilian school is completely up to them. As it is, none of the five currently in their custody have chosen the civilian life. Even Kojika, who likes gardening and reading books about animals and cringes at the sight of blood, reluctant to harm. (Trauma induced probably, but it's not an awful trait. Kindness.)
"I wanna be like you," She murmurs, doey brown eyes glimmering up at him. "A medic nin. I wanna help people, and to do that I need to be a shinobi."
It rouses a heady, flowering tenderness in his chest that he can hardly fathom. Compartmentalizing and denying his emotions for so long, locking his previous personality traits in the freezer to become Toshiro and not —
Him. The man he was.
He's always known he was human, has always known that this world tried to separate humans and shinobi like they were two contrasting species. That's what he's fighting for, after all. The allowance of shinobi to be.
Just be.
Kind. Cared for. Happy.
That had never applied to him, though. It's like Kakashi had pointed out. Toshiro didn't care about Toshiro. But when he peers into Kojika's eyes, when he tucks Touma into bed, when he sees Sai's eyes grow warmer by the day, Takehiko's laughs get a little more genuine, Chiasa's words a little less stilted — when he sees Kakashi; sharp as a blade and utterly, entirely electrifying. From that shock of ridiculous silver hair to the bursts of energy he feels tingle across his flesh whenever they brush—
He thinks he's suddenly remembering how to be human.
Their lives work.
Kakashi goes on his missions. The kids go to the Academy. Toshiro works himself to the bone at the hospital, constantly keeping his hands in fifteen different pots at all times. From the now monthly Clan Quartet cook-outs to the meetings with the Aburame, to hanging out with Inoka, Shisui and Hoshika, or Gai and Genma and all the others, to dodging Fugaku's marriage contracts (which feel more like a joke at this point) while simultaneously managing to have discussions with Itachi about the future.
Or playing shogi with Fuyumi.
He refuses to do so with Shikaku, no matter how much the man attempts to weedle a game out of him. That's a game Toshiro would only lose.
Toshiro is exhausted. Utterly and constantly. The only reason he's not dropped dead is the fact that they aren't at war, and the hospital has a lot more competent medic-nin than it ever has. Probably more at one time than there's been in most of Konoha's official history.
Itachi is especially interested in Academy re-education. Toshiro is only flattered and happy to know that the younger boy apparently thinks him worthy to listen to. It's never about asking. Toshiro isn't about to demand that Itachi change things exactly as Toshiro wants. Because this is a group effort.
Telling Itachi what he's noticed, the fallacies and problems that affect certain areas of education — that's how he operates. He highlights the issue, sets it before Itachi, and asks the man what will you do now?
Because Itachi is to be a leader. And he should eat from no one's hand.
"Hi sensei!" A girl, about two or three years younger than him, waves at him in the hallways of the hospital. Her cheeks are rosy pink and she leans into her other friend, giggling softly when he sends a confused, slightly belated wave back.
He's quite certain she's a recent student. One Yukimura-sensei has been training — and it's a relief that there's more help in the teaching department, trying to run those classes between him and one other had been awful. (But worth it.)
Yukimura-sensei is suited for teaching, anyway. Her soft, kind demeanor and easy laugh is just as effective as his own in making shinobi learn via positive reinforcement.
….He'd learned it from her, after all.
Sometimes his blunt, cutting nature still shone through, however. A genius shinobi of the mind they'd called him. They were right. Having an adult mind while in a child's body let him process extreme trauma in a way that….differed from the way a child would. After being dropped into the system, he'd never tried to hide how he spoke and acted like an adult, even when his body was four years old, so weak and feeble and soft.
You adapt to survive. So he did.
It's funny, actually. Now that he thinks about it, all this political mumbo-jumbo and carefully thought out discussion had made him less….foul mouthed. At fifteen he'd been so uncaring in social aspects, wild with ideas and the memory of bloodshed. Fuck had been a staple word in his thoughts, if not his mouth.
And now?
He finds himself leaning back on the couch, idly noting Chiasa and Sai doing homework at the kitchen table. Touma and Takehiko are rolling around with the dogs, Touma is a lot more verbal and outgoing than his little brother, who mostly just nods at the appropriate intervals with wide eyes. Kojika is at Shikamaru's house, her and Sai in the same class as Shikamaru and his friends. They'd easily accepted her into the fold. Sai was a little harder, however. He preferred to be alone, but recently spoke about a quieter boy named Shino and a little girl named Hinata.
Now, he thinks to himself, settled in a home that's bursting with life, on a path of life he'd never imagined for himself, There are impressionable minds around.
Gin idolizes Kakashi.
It's rather cute, actually. When he comes home with them, he's wearing dark clothes and a face mask. The kind that people wear at hospitals — so at least it's a little more personalized than just straight up covering his face and neck with deep navy/black fabric. He's amassed a collection of white masks with different mouth shapes drawn on. Every morning he picks a different one depending on his mood.
Kakashi looks at him like he has no idea how to proceed.
"It's adorable." Toshiro says, watching Gin show Takehiko how to correctly hold a kunai. Kakashi peeks over the top of his book at the two, humming. They're both sitting on the engawa, a tray of mochi between them, half-eaten. Toshiro's fingers are dusted with the remnants of powdery sugar.
"You know, it rather is." And there's an eye-smile that follows, genuine in a way Kakashi very rarely lets himself show.
(Except it's starting to become more commonplace. Toshiro's noticed.)
"Kaka-nii! Toshi-nii!" A little voice calls, and they both glance over to see Takehiko pointing excitedly at the target, where his kunai has hit the center. Gin stands beside him, silver eyes proud. Today his mask has a smirk drawn on. Fitting.
"Good job!" Toshiro calls back, and he really means it. Though they may be children, they're learning at their own pace and that's all he can ask for.
Finding Kakashi attractive is easy to ignore when they're kept so busy. Of course, it's as he notes this fact that it begins to change. First, the Aburame deal is complete. There's nothing more to discuss and there's nothing more to do for renovations aside from wait for it to be done. It's just a waiting game now that everything in the legal documentation department has been dealt with. Contracts signed, proposals approved, staff hired. Open communication remained between the Aburame and Toshiro — which essentially meant he was the go-between for the Hatake, Uchiha, Nara, Yamanaka and Akimichi.
Anything to bring the clans together, he supposes. It'll be hard, since the Aburame are connected to the Inuzuka and Hyūga. It wouldn't be as seamless as the Ino-Shika-Cho clans had been. The other three clans didn't have that same closeness, nor did they heavily intermingle. The Hyūga especially weren't the most welcoming of clans, and Toshiro didn't have a very high opinion of them to begin with, seeing as they thought sealing their children and turning half their family into slaves was okay.
Those were worries for a future Toshiro.
With that out of the way, he feels a little less suffocated by all the work he has to do. He finds a schedule that suits him, planning times to visit people carefully as to allow him some free time.
And Kakashi is asked to take on a team. A Genin team.
"I have no interest in teaching kids." Is what he tells Toshiro, when the kids are at the Academy and they both have a free moment. The days are still warm enough to let them sit out on the engawa and experience the day. The backyard is much nicer, rock garden restored and flowers blooming in a more orderly manner.
Kakashi owns little else but pants and long-sleeve shirts in black, varying from soft fabric for lounging and Shinobi-grade for his Jounin ensemble; so he wears the kind for lounging now. Toshiro can't help but think the man would look nice in a kimono or yukata.
He himself is wearing one — a yukata, that is — the fabric soft cotton, dyed forest green. Bare feet tucked beneath him and hair loose around his shoulders, Toshiro is comfortable. More than just physically.
"You're good at it," he says, thinking of the way Kakashi treats the six currently in their care.
"Being their guardian is different," Kakashi insists, "I'm treating them like Hatake, because that's what they are. Besides, our kids are in a league of their own."
Prodigies. Toshiro hasn't forgotten. It's sometimes easy to pretend that they are normal kids, even when they aren't. There are times they act so childish — all while able to understand certain concepts with near jounin-level comprehension.
He's almost able to ignore how the way Kakashi had said our kids makes his heart flutter. Then he decides that….well, he doesn't have to ignore it. He lets the soft, sugary feeling fill his chest until he's fit to burst. Attraction? Certainly. A crush? Possibly. Very likely, actually. And it's fine.
Honestly.
Being reborn and losing his family is one thing. It'll stick with him forever. How could it not? But a lost love….while painful and devastating, with a little time and effort it was possible to recover. It's been twenty years since he was brought into this new world. Everything has changed and he's grown into a new person, with new goals and new dreams and new desires. Humans were like cockroaches in a sense, able to bounce back from impossible odds. So he feels it in his gut when the moment comes, and the thought finally hits him.
It's time to move on.
He looks at Kakashi and feels the stirrings of hope.
Kakashi gives the genin the Bell Test. (Capitalized to emphasize the importance, of course.) They fail, and he tries not to let his smug happiness show when he informs the Interim Hokage. Jiraiya clearly doesn't buy it, but can't do anything to change Kakashi's mind, nor does he seem particularly inclined to care. Which, fair. The guy probably has a lot more to worry about than three almost-genin who could just try again next year.
Kakashi does not envy him.
Teaching a genin team is a veiled attempt to keep him under control, or perhaps under surveillance. He knows the old crones in the Council don't trust his sudden rise to the Hatake Seat, but frankly there isn't much they can do about it when Toshiro has half the clans in his pocket — meaning Kakashi has a lot of allies who are willing to support his decision with open arms. They've already signed all their alliance contracts and what-not, because despite being in the same village, clans operated differently. Clans had secrets, information and jutsu privy only to their members, village be damned. As they were all Konoha shinobi, everyone was an ally, but two clans having an alliance meant that they shared some things with each other that they didn't with everyone else.
If the Elders on the Council had any brains they'd realize that there's no way Kakashi can be stopped. His loyalty is to his village. Which means he'll do anything to protect it, even if that meant tearing it down to cull the rotting parts.
Kakashi is a pack animal who'd lost his first pack, driven to near death as he struck out at everything and everyone. Throwing his life into being a shinobi had only turned him into a rabid dog who needed to be watched, to be put down. He'd needed direction, something to fill the void left by his abandonment of rules and regulations, of pack.
Then Toshiro happened.
Blazing like the sun, an inferno where others only held the slightest candle-flicker of the so-called Will of Fire. Revolutionary, gravitational, inspiring — addicting.
Kakashi has made more mistakes in his life than he feels he could ever make up for. Yet when he looks at Toshiro, when he listens to the man's ideas and watches those dreams burst into reality — Kakashi thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can be useful. He can make something of his miserable existence.
Minato-sensei, are you watching? He's the storm of change you always wanted to be. Obito, can you see it? You'd have been a great Hokage with Toshiro at your side.
That's not to say that Kakashi feels bitter at Itachi's promotion. He's glad. As glad as one can be, really. But it hurts a bit like a day-old bruise, the idea that the first Uchiha Hokage is not Obito. If only, if only, if only.
(He's selfish.)
Because Kakashi, for the first time in as long as he can remember, is glad he's alive. It's nerve-wracking and terrible, nauseating and headache-inducing, but every day is easier and now he doesn't know what he would do without this.
His clan. Eight little Hatake kids who will be nothing like him, not if he has anything to say about it. His — whatever Toshiro is. Best friend? Obito usually takes that title by default, even if the truth of the matter is that they'd hated each other up until the last ten minutes of the Uchiha's life. Gai, for all the Kakashi will deny it out loud, probably knows Kakashi better than he knows himself. That man easily slots into the best friend position.
Kakashi knows everything doesn't need a title. It's a habit of his, keeping everything orderly and in boxes, that way it's easy for him to sort through the muck of his thoughts. For whatever reason, however, he can't stop himself from searching. Wondering.
The fact of the matter is that Toshiro smells like mint.
Like earth and sugar. Ink and rubbing alcohol. In the dark his hair looks beige, and in the sun it's the palest shade of gold he's ever laid eyes on. When he smiles, it's warm and wide and not at all crooked, his nose scrunching and cheeks pulling at freckles. There are silvery scars all over his arms, from working with ninja wire and chakra strings as his main weapon. He has a slice in his hip from a kunai that he'd gotten when he was eight, the first of many times he'd almost been gutted by enemy nin while a child on the battlefield. Sometimes when Toshiro lounges around the house in his shinobi blues rather than a yukata, he'll reach up and a flash of skin around his waist will be revealed.
And Kakashi.
He's.
Unable to understand why his eyes are glued to that barest hint of skin — of flesh he's seen a million times before when they train — or why it makes his palms sweat and his stomach drop to his feet.
And Toshiro smells good.
Kakashi doesn't know if it's the mint or whatever, but he follows the man around the house like a….like a dog. And Toshiro doesn't seem to notice, just pulls him into conversation. So they talk and Kakashi hovers and he pretends he doesn't feel hot and guilty when Toshiro reaches or bends or — or — or. Pulls his hair up. High in a bun. Loose strands around his face and a few strays curling at the back of his neck. His neck. Bare. Pale, dotted with the faintest few freckles, the bumps of vertebrae appearing with certain movements.
Kakashi is a pack animal.
"I don't know if I want to marry." Itachi admits, soft and curious, as though amazed by the very words he speaks.
The Uchiha Compound is very familiar by now, not a single member of the Clan looks twice when he strolls in. They even greet him, and he sees more than a few others who are clearly not Uchiha wandering around with their Uchiha friends. It's so much more open than it was before, when he'd first walked in years ago and been bombarded with suspicious glances.
They're in Itachi's home — he still lives with his parents in the main house — tucked in the living room at the low table, tea already poured. Both Fugaku and Mikoto aren't here, which is perhaps the only reason Itachi is even saying this. The boy has been under a lot of pressure lately, with his Hokage inauguration next year and the culmination of his marriage contract two years after. Married at eighteen, with no say in it.
"This girl, do you know her?" Is what Toshiro asks.
The fifteen-year-old dips his head in the slightest movement, "Yes. Uchiha Izumi. We're fifth cousins. It was arranged shortly after my birth."
Toshiro very carefully does not grimace at the idea of marrying a cousin, fifth or not. Clans did a lot of that….distant inbreeding to keep themselves pure. The Uchiha were especially purist. Or at least their traditions were. Times were changing, though. Shisui hadn't asked Hoshika to marry him yet, but everyone who knew them was well aware it would happen anytime now. That was the farthest thing from inbreeding.
However Shisui convinced the Uchiha Elders to stop bothering him, I'll never know.
"Do you like her?"
"Yes." Itachi says after a moment. "But…"
Not like that.
The medic nods, "I see. Well, not to throw your brother under the bus, but that marriage contract you're in is only because you were expected to be Clan Head, right?"
Itachi frowns over his tea cup, "I won't take advantage of a loophole if it ends in Sasuke's misery."
Toshiro grins, his usual soft, sunny disposition traded for a sharper, shark-like persona he'd picked up from Fuyumi. It's actually her he needs to thank for this next suggestion. "Not if you take advantage of it when he graduates from the academy in two years."
Itachi halts, his cup half-way to his mouth. His dark eyes grow marginally wider, slight enough to be a trick of the light. "He graduates a year before I'm expected to marry."
"He does." Toshiro replies, one brow raised, "And as a genin he's an adult in the eyes of the law, and his first duty is to Konoha. Meaning — he's legally unable to be forced into an arranged marriage against his will."
"The clan will still try to get him to accept one." Itachi warns, but his gaze has gone a bit distant in thought, "They'll use his desire to be useful against him."
"Two years, Itachi." He holds up two fingers cheekily. "I think Sasuke will have found himself by then. He's already well on his way out of your shadow."
The Uchiha nods, a soft smile flickering across his tired features. "His friends are good for him."
"They make him feel less alone. He still loves you, of course. But now he's not hurt when you're unable to hang out with him, because he has fun on his own. Fun he creates by being Sasuke." It wasn't hard to see how desperately Sasuke had idolized his older brother, or how detached the boy had felt from a clan that saw him as a spare.
(They didn't feel that way anymore, of course. Perhaps they never had. Sasuke's self confidence left much to be desired.)
Itachi sighs, and this time the smile that graces his features stays for more than a second. "I'm glad."
"Shika-nii!" Touma tackles the boy, laughing when Shikmaru just takes it and groans.
Toshiro wonders if he should stop calling this event the Clan Quartet Cook-out when the Hatake are now considered a Clan of their own. So. Five clans. Quintet?
Either way, they all show up, Touma and Kojika fighting for Shikamaru's attention and getting dragged away into whatever trouble he, Ino, Sasuke, Chouji and Naruto get into. Actually, there's another girl here today, which is only a little surprising. Naruto wasn't part of one of the present Clans, but no one had really questioned his presence. That didn't really mean others came, unless the person was in a relationship with an attending clan member.
The girl has pink hair and glances around with wide eyes at everything. She seems to get along with the kids, but appears a little on the quieter side and throws Sasuke looks every once in a while that reminds Toshiro of the way Ino once acted.
Takehiko sticks by Gin's side and lets his older brother do most of the talking. They both wander over to the group — which Toshiro's mind names 'Shika's squad'. Chiasa settles into a cluster of kids that look her own age, and Toshiro is pretty sure she attends class with one of the Nara girls.
The one that sits off to the side, doodling in his sketchbook and observing everyone around him, is Sai. Getting him to socialize is difficult, especially when the boy seems so terribly bad at it. He's in the same class as Kojika, Gin and Shika's squad, yet never really tries to interact outside of his siblings or the Aburame boy, Shino. But even Sai's mentions of his maybe-friend are infrequent.
"What is it?" Kakashi asks, slumped beside him with a plate of food in his hand. Toshiro is pretty sure there's a genjutsu around his face, because he's somehow eating through the mask.
Definitely genjutsu.
A flick of his rosy eyes in the direction of their most troublesome child immediately draws Kakashi to attention.
"Ah," he says, clearing his throat.
Toshiro frowns, "Yeah. I know he's probably just...introverted...but…"
"I'm sure he'll be fine." Kakashi grins, and his eye curves into that cresent, smiley shape. Their shoulders brush as he leans forward a bit.
Heart fluttering at the contact, Toshiro eyes the other man, "What makes you say that?"
Kakashi points a finger, chopsticks curled in his other fist. Toshiro follows the digit back to Sai, who's been joined by another in the time he'd looked away. Yamanaka Ino stands over Sai's sitting form, her hand extended and a determined gleam in her pupil-less eyes. There's a flower crown on Sai's head, and a dumbfounded look on his pale face. The flowers — both yellow — are pansies and roses.
Thinking of you. Friendship.
As expected of a Yamanaka to extend the hand of friendship in more than one language.
When they go home, Sai very quietly whispers that he'd like a book on the language of flowers.
Visiting Haruki and the youngest girl becomes a Clan event. Continued exposure to a family environment is considered healthy, and the Yamanaka think Haruki will be ready to come home in the next few weeks.
They'd finally gotten him to sleep through the night for a consecutive month without night terrors. And he no longer was so disoriented upon waking that he attacked whoever was closest. It's a relief. Toshiro knows that Haruki does miss his siblings, even if he doesn't mention it when they're all together.
The honey-eyed boy has a bit of a temper, and he's prone to bouts of irritability, but it's no longer a problem that feels excessively violent. He's been with the Yamanaka for a little over a year at this point, and now he's just a headstrong, quick-tempered maybe-nine year old. There's no doubt in his desire to be a ninja, Toshiro only worries because he's the only nine year old of the group. Chiasa is eleven; Sai, Gin and Kojika are ten, Touma is eight and Takehiko is seven. All a year older than they'd been when they'd been found.
Haruki being the only one his age means that he'll be alone in the Academy. At least for a bit, before he makes his own friends. Which Toshiro is sure that he can, and there's at least an Akimichi girl and Uchiha boy in that class that he can nudge the boy towards if need be.
(Not that Haruki has to be friends with them, but it's probably better to at least be friendly to people you'll end up seeing all the time since their clans are allied.)
It's the girl they're worried about the most.
She's Takehiko's age, noted as being a few months older. The blank, corpse-like expression she'd worn when first rescued has shifted into something more troubled and exhausted. It's an awful look for a seven year old girl.
"About her…" Inoichi pulls him aside, and they watch the Hatake Clan interact in the yard beyond the Yamanaka main house. Dogs and children running without care, all but Sai, who's doodling beside Kakashi and the girl, who sits with Pakkun in her lap and looks at the scene with unsure eyes. "We don't think she's actually from here."
Toshiro blinks at the man, "What do you mean by that."
The man grimaces, "We...have reason to believe she was taken from outside Konoha's walls. Potential even beyond the borders of Hi no Kuni."
Children's laughter fills the air. A dog barks, another makes a snide remark.
A breeze pushes a few loose strands of ash-blond hair across his cheek. He ignores it. "What brought this on?"
Inoichi's eyes flicker over to the girl, a little bit grim, a little bit wondrous. A little bit devastated and hopeful, two sides of a coin emerging at once. "Yesterday she manifested chakra chains."
Sound seems to cease. Toshiro's mouth opens and no words come. Peach-pink gaze settles on the little girl with dark, blood-red hair. It's less vibrant, a little too dark for most to ever assume — but Naruto is blond, and his blood emerges in the features of his face and the giant chakra reserves. He looks at her face carefully, wondering if he'll see some hint of relation between the two of them. He doesn't.
I want you to be positive, Is what he'd like to say, but nothing is more positive than chakra chains. Something swells in his chest.
Defiance.
"Let him have this."
Inoichi blinks when Toshiro says this, voice steel and pink eyes sharp with determination.
He doesn't ask who the 'him' is. (Inoichi is smarter than that.) "The Sandaime.."
"Can do nothing." Toshiro cuts him off harshly, "He's no longer Hokage, and his decree says nothing of family."
The Clan Head furrows his brow — then sighs, relaxing. He gives Toshiro a brief nod. "Of course. To do anything else would be an offense to the Uzumaki, and we've failed them far too severely already."
"Yes," Toshiro murmurs, watching the little girl again, "We have."
He tells her what the chakra chains mean. He spends hours talking about the Uzumaki, about what happened, about what they could do. The sun has disappeared and the rest of the Hatake Clan has gone home, Haruki returning to his room. Kakashi gives him a meaningful glance before leaving — Toshiro is certain he'll want to be filled in later.
"I don't want to be a ninja." She replies, voice soft and far too serious. "I don't want to."
"You don't have to be one." He promises, "You never have to become something you don't choose for yourself."
She purses her lips, her wild, mahogany red hair falling over her eyes. "Even though I have this ability? Even though I'm….one of them?"
An Uzumaki? Wielding the potential to become just as deadly and powerful as her Clan predecessors? The kind of person any village would be desperate to get their hands on?
"One of who?" he asks, smiling in false innocence, "You're a Hatake."
And she understands.
Understands that they will lie for her if need be.
Understands that she can be a Hatake, can be safe — and he will tell her whatever she wishes about the Uzumaki, if she ever wants to know. Or she can forget. It's up to her.
She can make her own decisions.
"You're right." She replies. "I'm Hatake Asuhi."
Toshiro takes her hand, and she lets him. Her fingers curl around his larger ones, her murky, forest green eyes bright — free. Asuhi: flying to tomorrow.
"What a pretty name, Asuhi-chan. Would you like to meet your cousin?"
Asuhi takes a breath, "Yes, I would like that very much."
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