章節 8: Chapter 8: fragile stems
"Kakashi."
"Yes?"
Toshiro puts his cup of tea on the coffee table. "You have no idea how to handle children."
"Hmmm, I suppose not." The man replies with an irritating sort of casualness.
"Eight. You took in all eight of them."
Kakashi scratches at his nose, eyes curving to hint at a mock smile. "As I said."
"Eight!" Toshiro exclaims, wide-eyed and wondering what exactly went through Kakashi's mind when he made such a decision. The man was hardly the paragon for healthy living! "Eight traumatized children!"
"Ah," Kakashi holds a finger up, "You're forgetting a noun. Prodigy. Eight orphaned, traumatized prodigies. Danzo certainly had standards."
"Oh my Sage," Toshiro murmurs, "You really are going to need help, otherwise Konoha will end up with eight mini versions of you."
Kakashi squints, "That almost felt insulting."
"Good, I meant it to be." He points a threatening finger at the silver-haired menace. "You are a Medic's worst nightmare."
"I always feel so nice after speaking with you." Kakashi drawls flatly. "Really, flattery makes me blush."
Toshiro runs a hand through his hair, tugging out the tie holding it up. His ash blond hair tumbles around his shoulders, now long enough to reach just below his collarbones. He leans back into the couch with a hefty sigh, flicking the hair tie away without care of where it might land. They fall into a brief silence while Toshiro lets this new reality sink in.
There's no way Kakashi can care for eight children, traumatized or not. He's an elite ANBU, presumably going back on duty now that Toshiro didn't need 'bodyguarding'. Definitely not a suitable guardian. The kids are all old enough to attend the academy, being between the ages of six and ten, so once the Yamanaka clear them it shouldn't be difficult to sign them up. That took care of a good chunk of the day, at least.
That is, assuming they want to become Shinobi at all. That could be another potential issue. Not problem, because there's no way Toshiro would consider it as such — these kids should be allowed to choose whichever path they want.
Toshiro could see about changing his hours.
What the hell. I'm already thinking like I'm gonna play some big role in their lives…. He glances at Kakashi, who's staring right back. Ah, who am I kidding? Like I could just sit back and watch…
"It's not like me to be so spontaneous." Kakashi says, breaking their short silence. "I realize that I'm asking you to aid me in a...situation of my own design. I was the one who leapt without looking this time, and I suppose it didn't hit me until later what it really meant to be responsible for eight kids."
"I can't say I'm not surprised." Is what Toshiro replies, because he won't lie. This really did catch him off guard. "Something like this does seem out of character for you, but at the same time….I feel as though some part of you….relates to them. Those kids."
Kakashi is silent, his lone eye half-lidded and peering emptily down at the cooling tea he still holds.
"Who better to understand them then...you?" Toshiro continues, voice growing softer with every word. "It may have felt spontaneous, or very spur of the moment, but the path that led you there was one created by your need to help."
"Have me all figured out, do you?" The ANBU member whispers, finally pulling his gaze from the now-cold liquid and spearing Toshiro with a look of great intensity. "I think you believe me to be a better man than I really am."
"Maybe…."
Kakashi huffs, "Then you should know that I wasn't even thinking of those kids. I was only thinking of how to get that Seat on the Council."
Toshiro reaches a hand out and viciously pinches Kakashi's arm.
"Ow!" The man exclaims, looking more shocked than pained at the action.
"Let me finish my sentence." Toshiro meets the other's man's eye with an intense look of his own, "You realize my words about change and evolution, about not settling for the now and looking to be better — they don't just apply to Konoha as a village or the systems currently in place. It applies to us. We become different people as we grow, molded by our experiences, the places we go and the people we meet...so maybe I do see you as a man better than the person you are right now. But that's the Kakashi of today. And not to be insensitive, but you don't have a high opinion of yourself to begin with, so forgive me if I don't trust the self-assessment you've crafted about your character."
He takes a deep breath and shifts his pinching fingers to curl gently around Kakashi's arm. "Now look me in the eye and tell me you really thought nothing of those kids aside from using them to further your own agenda."
The muscles of Kakashi's arm tremble under Toshiro's grip, the man's entire body frozen in shock and his dark eye blown wide. He looks at Toshiro like he's never seen him in his life. "I—" He swallows visibly, cloth covered throat bobbing. After a short pause his shoulders loosen and slump, something like resignation in his posture. "Of course I didn't."
Toshiro smiles brightly, intense relief exploding in his chest. It's not that he doesn't trust Kakashi, but getting to know someone and letting them in is a long and arduous process in the shinobi world. It feels like with this, they've just hopped over a huge hurdle.
(The bond between them has deepened.)
"We really have to work on that whole painting yourself as the villain thing you do." He says, giving Kakashi's arm a gentle squeeze before releasing the limb and dropping his hand back into his lap.
Kakashi rubs gently at his temple, looking drained. "Yeah? Only if you work on that lack of self-interest."
"My what?"
The ANBU nin pulls Toshiro's favorite rose-print blanket around himself and sinks further into the couch cushions, an expression in his lone eye that would better fit a petulant child. "The whole I'm no one, I'm not important, nothing I do is ever really relevant because anyone can do it thing. Maybe you do have me figured out, but that street goes both ways, Toshiro."
The warm feeling slips down the drain, discomfort twisting in his gut. He turns his rose-hued eyes away, looking around the room but not settling on anything in particular. "I…"
"I've been watching you just as closely as it seems you've been watching me." Kakashi mutters. "You don't care about yourself. You look out for everyone, you're kind to everyone — even if you're blunt about it — but you ignore yourself. You think you don't matter."
Toshiro grits his teeth.
The thing is, Kakashi's right.
And Toshiro hates that.
He doesn't want to think about himself. Because then he has to remember the fact that this is his second life — and that means that his existence has always been shrouded in pain. He'd had a family before, in that first life. A mother and father. A sister. A whole gaggle of cousins and aunts and uncles — he'd had a life. An honest to god life. The man he'd been had wanted to be a writer, wanted to settle down with his boyfriend and write books until he grew so old his hands cramped and he couldn't write anymore. Had wanted to marry that other man, his boyfriend. Being reborn wasn't a reset. It wasn't an escape. It was waking up as a two year old in a military-based village at war with no one.
And realizing he couldn't think about that or he'd die again. Sometimes he wishes he did. The only thing that got him through any of it was seeing the children of Konoha die around him. Morbid, yes. But the sight of such tragedies of war burned itself into an already wrecked, mourning brain.
And so he found something to live for.
To use these stolen years for.
Stopping that from ever happening again.
"I've hurt you."
Toshiro glances up sharply. He doesn't say a word, tongue too heavy and throat too dry.
Kakashi eyes him with an inscrutable emotion. "I won't apologize."
Swallowing, Toshiro shuts his eyes tight, pretending the burn he feels doesn't exist. He doesn't really want to cry, but the bombardment of emotions he'd wanted to forget is making it increasingly difficult to not. "What a pair we make."
Kakashi huffs in amusement. "Perfectly suited to raise some kids, don't you think?"
Toshiro groans, then tries to laugh. The noise comes out more like a choked cough. He tilts his head back against the couch and throws an arm over his eyes. "We've become different people today, so I truly hope so."
Kakashi isn't sorry.
The pain he sees in Toshiro's eyes? He equates it to an infected wound. You don't apologize for scraping the pus and muck out of a wound so you can clean and heal it. All he'd done was call attention to the injury.
(And announce his intention to do something about it.)
Because Kakashi recognizes the sullen silences, the weary, blank look that occasionally takes over Toshiro's face when he thinks others aren't looking. He sees his father in the fake smiles on Toshiro's mouth. He sees his father in the grim, grave set to Toshiro's brow when his insides are screaming but he refuses to cry.
He sees his father.
Dead. By his own hand.
(Oh god, that room smells like blood, like his father's blood. He can't bear the sight of that gaudy tape wrapped around the room, or the ugly stain left behind. So he leaves, throws that part of him away until — until he realizes….)
Everyone dies.
But his father had been right. It was Konoha who'd been wrong. Wrong to tear him down until he'd been a shell. Until he'd gutted himself because it was less painful than breathing.
And Kakashi would tear the Konoha of today down to erect the vision Toshiro strove for if it meant he'd never have to walk into a room to find the man's body on the ground, still and silent. Flesh torn by his own blade. Smiling at oblivion with unseeing eyes.
(Not again. Not again. Not again.)
I just don't want anyone else to die.
(Sage, why couldn't they just stop dying?)
"I have half a mind to retire right this moment." Aoyama-sensei says, sitting at her desk with her hands clasped before her, eyes rolled up to the ceiling like it holds all the answers.
Toshiro laughs, "As if you'd actually retire. I have no doubt you'd take over some of the Medical Ninjutsu classes and stay on as a doctor."
She sighs, shaking her head and finally offering a wry grin. "Oh, hush you, let me fantasize. In all seriousness, Aikawa-sensei, when Uchiha Itachi steps up as Godaime Hokage, you'll step up as Hospital Director."
He blinks. It's not like the information is...new. They'd talked for years about him being the next Director. "Ah. Feels a bit weird to have a definite date."
"Which means you need to pick someone as your successor for the Shinobi Trauma Team."
"Tsutomu Hanako." He says without hesitation. "I want her in charge."
Aoyama-sensei smiles, "Don't try to sell that pitch to me, kid. It'll be your decision. But, about what you came here for...I can adjust your hours. We're more staffed than we've ever been before, and you of all people deserve a little time off. You'll have fewer hours but remain on call at all times, as is expected of all Medic Nin."
Toshiro nods in assent. "Thank you."
"And before you head out, I thought you'd like to know that Yukimura-sensei has returned from her sabbatical."
Yukimura Nana left Konoha shortly after Toshiro turned fifteen. For over fours years she's been traversing Hi no Kuni, teaching and sharing medical knowledge with various towns and villages under their protection.
(When outsiders thought of Hi no Kuni, they thought of Konoha. The pride of the daimyo, the Hidden Village that birthed shinobi, but not the only village out there.)
She is also the person who taught Toshiro how to use Medical Ninjutsu. The person his long haired look is inspired by. He'd approached her at only ten years of age, shadows of war in his eyes but a stack of books in his arms. Eager to learn. Eager to heal. Eager to fix the world for future generations. He'd been a veritable robot back then, fueled solely by logic and compartmentalizing everything. It'd been the only way for him to function with a head full of loss and battle.
She'd taught him how to be kind.
He couldn't believe he'd forgotten how.
So he stands at her door, knocking out of politeness more than anything. There's no doubt she'd already sensed his approach.
She opens the door.
Four years haven't aged her. At thirty-seven, she looks exactly as she did when she left. Her dark brown hair tied up in a loose bun, her blue eyes soft and perpetually a little on the droopy side, making her appear tired. She's beginning to get laughter lines and crow's feet, but the wrinkles remain light.
"Toshiro." She greets with a smile, dressed in loose, comfortable clothes in basic shinobi blue. "You've grown."
"Not vertically, I assure you." He replies dryly.
"No," she agrees, laughing, "But I thought it rude to mention."
"You look like you had fun." There's a light in her eyes. One had always been present, of course — but she looks happy. "I take it everything went well?"
Nana lets him inside. Her home is a bit larger than his, the appliances a little more updated and her layout far different. She has a mudroom entrance that leads right into a hall, the first room on the right being the kitchen — there's no door, just a wide, open arch. There is a door right across from it on the left, which opens into a bathroom. A little further down and the hall opens into a living room, which also holds two doors. One to the bedroom and another to an office space. Toshiro recognizes it all. He spent countless hours here, studying and blowing up fish.
He toes off his sandals and follows her into the kitchen. It looks like she's half-way through putting away fresh groceries, restocking after the long trip.
"It went wonderful!" She says, resuming her task. He seats himself at the table. "Will you be staying for dinner?"
"As long as I'm not called on."
"Hm." Nana hums, her back to him. "I heard about what you did. The whole hospital has changed."
Toshrio bites back the instinctive response to deny that he did anything important, Kakashi's words ringing in his head. "It...took some effort."
Nana glances back at him. "Yes, I don't doubt it. Still, you took the leap. And look where you landed!" She sends him another sunny smile. "Konoha feels a little brighter, don't you think?"
He finds himself grinning in return, though with slightly less exuberance. "Yes. I do."
They speak long into the night, talking about Nana's journey and the changes Konoha has weathered. Food grows cold and ends up needing to be reheated. They sit through three rounds of tea each. Nana plans on returning to the hospital to work. She's interested in the Medical Ninjutsu classes. Toshiro mentions his orphanage reforms, his desire to improve the child care systems. She asks him about the people in his life.
"You have friends now. I'm happy."
He tells her about the Nara, about Inoka and Inoichi, about Uchiha Fuyumi. About Fugaku's attempt at roping him into a marriage contract.
He tells her about Shisui and Itachi and Hoshika.
He tells her about Kakashi.
Then he mentions the eight kids situation.
The first meeting with the eight children is not a group event. He meets them individually, so he can get a feel of their personalities and progress. Kakashi sits beside him as each child is brought in, as he's now their Clan Head — and has the honor of telling them that fact.
Actually, Toshiro shouldn't really be part of this, because he's not a Hatake. But Kakashi had been reluctant to meet with them alone, having no idea how to talk to normal people, let alone children.
They start oldest to youngest.
The first child is a girl. Ten years old. Her short, brutally chopped hair is strawberry blonde and her eyes a crystal blue. She sits with her back straight and doesn't speak unless spoken to. She has no name, can't remember the one she'd had before Danzo. She doesn't seem violent, just quiet. Resigned to be whatever anyone molds her into.
"What would you like to be called?" Toshiro asks, and her brows furrow in response. It's one of the few signs of emotion she's displayed.
"I have no preference."
He flattens his mouth into a line before it quirks down into a frown. He doesn't want to show displeasure and give her the wrong impression. "Think about it. Next time we'll go through a book of names and you can pick the one you want."
"For what purpose?" She asks.
Kakashi shifts uncomfortably at his side.
Toshiro softens his features, doing his best to keep his expression as open as possible. "Finding yourself."
The second is nine. A boy with skin the color of paper, with hair and eyes the same shade of black. He looks like a wraith and doesn't emote. There's a look in his eye that reminds Toshiro a bit of himself. (It looks like loss. Stamped out with force.) He also has no name and spends most of their time together in a sullen silence.
The third is another boy, also nine. Light brown hair and steel gray eyes. No name.
The fourth is a nine year old girl. Lavender hair and eyes the color of caramel. No name.
The fifth is an eight year old boy. Dirty blond hair and matching gold eyes, a scar across his right cheekbone and a chunk of that ear missing. He tells them his name is Haruki.
The sixth is a seven year old boy named Touma, his black hair curls around his ears and his eyes are a stunning shade of lilac. He seems a little more upbeat than the others, which hints that he spent less time in the Root base than the others.
The seventh is a six year old girl who doesn't speak, not once. Her hair is a shade of mahogany that looks like blood under direct light and her eyes are dark green, glassy and blank. She has no name.
The eighth and final child is another boy, also six. His hair is chocolate brown and his eyes amber, he tells them his name is Takehiko.
By the end, Kakashi is so drained he looks like a ghost, and Toshiro doesn't feel much better. Each of the kids has a way to go before being integrated back into society, the closest being Touma. Inoichi tells them that each child will move at their own pace, so it's doubtful they'll be released into Kakashi's custody all at once.
That's something of a relief, seeing as Kakashi still needs to reopen and refurbish the Hatake Estate. It would also certainly be better to ease into child care rather than juggle eight at once.
"Are you planning on returning to ANBU?" Toshiro asks, once they're back at his apartment. The visit to the Yamanaka Clan had taken the better part of the day and now the sun sits low in the sky. His stomach rumbles.
Perhaps they should have picked up food on the way back.
"I don't know." Kakashi answers honestly. "Should I?"
"That's up to you." He won't make the man's decisions for him. "We'd just have to plan around it, and I doubt you'd be able to take the same volume of missions you used to."
"...I'll think about it." The man finally settles on, before reaching out and boldly tugging Toshiro's pony-tail. "Ramen flavor?"
Toshiro bats the offending hand away without heat, "Beef. Why?"
"Be back in a bit." Is what Kakashi says instead of an explanation, disappearing from Toshiro's sight in the next moment.
Toshiro frowns down at the pile of leaves settling on his kitchen floor. "He's sweeping that up."
Kakashi returns with Ichiraku take-out. It's absolutely delicious.
(Toshiro can't believe he's never had it before.)
Toshiro stops by the Nara at least once a week. Yoshino insists, and Toshiro is quite sure Shikamaru would hunt him down if he missed one of their unofficial pseudo family dinners. Trying to keep good relationships is quite hard when it feels like there's so much to be done.
So he suggests an idea.
And then the next week there's a whole dinner bash with the Uchiha, Yamanaka and Akimichi all gathered at the Nara Compound. It's like a huge family picnic. The kids run around playing, weaving between the adults or tumbling in the grass, their hands sticky with food. Teens gather around moodily, probably talking about their latest existential crises. Adults play Go or sit in small groups and make casual conversation, all the clans intertwining like they'd always been this way.
Toshiro is especially glad they got the Uchiha here. It sucks that their Compound is so far from the main part of the Village. It's incredibly isolating. (Hopefully Itachi will fix that.)
"Watch out, Toshi-sensei!" Nine year old Sasuke speeds by in a blur, hand in hand with Shikamaru, who's getting dragged with great reluctance. Toshiro steps back a bit so he's not bowled over by the two.
He doesn't even have to ask what they're running from, because in the next moment Ino appears, fire in her eyes and her short hair drenched with juice. "YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW, UCHIHA SASUKE!"
"NEVER!" The little boy screams in return.
Ino shrieks like a banshee, gaining on the two boys with frightening speed. "I'M GONNA PULL OUT YOUR HAIR AND MAKE YOU EAT IT!"
"Oh dear." Toshiro hums. A glance around reveals that Chouji, the designated peacekeeper, is busy eating a hefty plate of food beside some of his cousins. Ah, well he's not butting in anytime soon.
"Shiro-chan~!" A weight settles around his shoulders. He peers to the side to come face to face with Shisui and his blinding grin.
"Shisui."
"Sound a little more excited, please."
Toshiro smiles brightly, faking an excessively bubbly tone, "Shisui~!"
The man in question makes a face, "Oh nevermind, you little heartstealer."
"What a nuisance," A feminine voice sighs. Hoshika saunters up to them lazily, her dark hair pulled up and out of her face. "Can't look away for two seconds without you bothering some poor schmuck."
"Maa, you make it seem like I'm some unruly pet!"
Toshiro and Hoshika share a look.
Shisui gasps, an expression of mock outrage on his face. Then it fades and twists into something entirely different. Flirty, even. "I suppose I don't mind being your pet, Hoshi-chan~!"
"Ugh," Toshiro ducks away from the man, dislodging the arm around his shoulders. "Please keep your kinks out of my earshot."
"Impossible." The couple deny simultaneously, Shisui grinning and Hoshika looking resigned.
Toshiro rolls his eyes but smiles, feeling lighthearted at their company. "I suppose I'll learn to deal. That aside...I'm sure you've been asked this already, but how has...everything been?"
With your secret relationship suddenly not being secret?
The couple exchange a glance. Shisui scratches his left cheek absentmindedly, thumbing at the bandages.
"Well, the only reason we kept it secret at first was because the Clan ally stuff was relatively new and tenuous." He shrugs, leaning in close to Hoshika and putting his arm around her with a fluid kind of grace. "And, I suppose, because…."
"It's a total pain, but the Uchiha have never allowed relationships with anyone in another Clan." Hoshika finishes. "At least, they didn't. Now?" She shrugs, a smirk curling at her mouth. "Well, times are changing."
"I'm happy for you." And he really is. Even if there's a pang of wistfulness echoing in the bruised cavern of his chest. "No one's bothered you about it?"
"As if!" Shisui throws his head back and laughs, "Not after she stood by me against Danzo. That kind of loyalty impresses."
Toshiro blinks, "Is it bad that I'm a little surprised? Not to be rude but your Clan Elders didn't seem the most….well…"
Shisui smiles. It's a bit odd, a bit secretive. Like he knows something Toshiro doesn't. "The Elders aren't a problem." Then he, presumably, attempts to wink. Except he's only got one eye so it looks more like an exaggerated blink.
"Now everyone's just pushing for us to marry." Hoshika drawls, "A marriage would solidify an alliance between the Nara and Uchiha the way little else could. I've had to deal with a bunch of old geezers coming at me with various contracts to submit to the Uchiha."
"What for?" Toshiro has a few ideas, but he'd rather not assume—
"What to do with children, for one." Hoshika bluntly admits. "Do they learn the shadow possession techniques, what if they have sharingan, which last name they take, blah blah blah. What a pain, I'm not even thinking about kids."
Shisui grins brightly, "They can be Nara, I don't care! They'll be mine and Hoshi-chan's, and that's all that matters."
Hoshika flushes, though it doesn't stand out much against her tanned skin. "Whatever."
Toshiro smiles softly, unable to stop the swell of affection. "You two are very cute."
A grunt from Hoshika and another beaming smile from Shisui —
"Ah~ An honest compliment from Shiro-chan!" He glances down at Hoshika, "Can you feel how fast my heart's racing right now?"
She rolls her eyes, though the smile on her face is full of poorly concealed adoration. "Shut up, idiot."
Toshiro gets roped into a night out.
All nineteen years of second life and he's never once actually gone out with friends. Not like this, at least. Because the tea times with Inoka and the study sessions with Fuyumi were a lot more tame than a packed diner-slash-bar. He's in a booth with a bunch of Jounin and Chuunin he's barely interacted with, wondering how he ended up here.
Ah, he thinks, staring dully at Kakashi, who's pressed up against his side with his book out, an air of nonchalance surrounding him. That's why.
Against his other side is a man a few years older, with brown hair, dark eyes and a face on the handsome side of average. He's got a senbon between his teeth, somehow talking easily without either a lisp or letting it slip out. Shiranui Genma.
"IT'S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU, TOSHIRO-SENSEI!" Gai exclaims over the ruckus of the other patrons, slamming his drink down on the table. He's sitting on the opposite side of the booth and his drink is apparently nonalcoholic. For reasons. Very scary ones, according to the other Jounin.
Gai had moved from Aikawa-sensei to Toshiro-sensei after a lot of prodding by Toshiro, who finally convinced the other man to do so by calling them friends.
My friends call me Toshiro.
That ended in a huge scene of oddly placed sunset-like genjutsu and a waterfall of tears.
"You as well, Gai." He takes a sip of his own drink, which is also nonalcoholic. It's fizzy and tastes like strawberries. Sweet tooth at it again. "I heard you recently returned from a mission. I'm glad you weren't injured."
"As usual, your kindness knows no bounds!" The spandex-clad man exclaims, "I feel the fires of our friendship blaze even brighter!"
Toshiro chuckles, endlessly amused by the other man's candor and gusto. It's sincerely impressive to have such a boundless amount of hope and energy. Especially in the face of the tragedies they as shinobi face. Gai is an active shinobi, too. He frequently takes missions as a Jounin, so he's probably witnessed worse things than Toshiro.
"Hey, who took my drink?" A man with a scar across his nose yelps.
Another with a spiky hair and a single line of bandage tape across his face mutters, "Oh, shit. I thought mine tasted funny."
"It tastes perfectly fine!" Raidou defends, snatching his drink out of Kotetsu's hand and chugging the bit that's remaining.
"Sure," Kotetsu teases, "If you like bottom-shelf sake."
The brown haired man at his side chuckles and elbows him, "Watch it, or you'll bring out Raidou's dad voice."
Toshiro finds himself at ease between the men at his sides, the comfort of camaraderie cloaking the table. It feels safe here. He might be the only Medic-Nin, but he doesn't feel left out. They make it easy to slip into their fold and hold conversation. (All shinobi are something like a family, aren't they? Tied together by their suffering.) These are Kakashi's friends. Hopefully they'll be Toshiro's as well.
"You should try the peach." Genma murmurs, tapping Toshiro's strawberry drink with a finger. "If you like the sweet stuff."
He smiles, still tasting the remnants of sugary strawberry on his tongue. "I suppose I will."
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票