Chapter Text
“Sensei— “ He doesn’t usually have trouble speaking, but his tongue feels heavy and its a struggle to keep his words from coming out as stutters. “Minato-sensei said that he… He wanted to raise us as brothers.”
“Absolutely not,” is the stern reply.
Kakashi feels like something inside himself is sinking. Ridiculous. His organs are all exactly where they belong for once.
“Jounin sensei are always the legal guardians of orphaned students; if you are found to be close to a blond child then every ninja who knows who your teacher was will suspect something. Are you going to risk the boy’s life just for a feeble promise made in a different time?”
He nearly answers ‘yes’ but catches himself. Thinks of his father. Of his third birthday, when an unfamiliar man placed his hands around his mouth and around his throat. Thinks of how his father had signed him up for the academy the next day. Thinks of how a blond, blue-eyed child would look covered in blood. Imagines another spy, another body, another early kill.
If he’s learned anything in the past two years it’s how to be afraid for another person.
He shakes his head.
Sarutobi nods and takes a hit from his pipe, turning only rough to glance out the windows. “Good. If I hear you’ve even so much as looked at him for too long I’ll make sure you’re out of the village for months. It’s what’s best.”
A thick and heavy feeling is building up behind his eyes and in his throat but he keeps his eyes open and steady despite it, meeting the hokage’s stare evenly as it turns back onto him. Imagines the thickness is blood and manages to jerk his head into a nod when it’s obvious that he won’t be dismissed until he responds somehow .
He keeps his head high as he leaves, steps steady despite all the baggage that’s dragging him down. He’s not sure if he can carry it all anymore, so maybe it’s time to throw some of it away.
The blond boy looks about two as Kakashi stares at him, carefully concealed from ground view but still visible to the ANBU he knows is returning to headquarters. Fourty-five seconds is all it takes before a bird mask obscures his view. Sure enough, his assigned undercover work is estimated to take about a month. The last was only three weeks and hs thoughts the entire time had been a constant push-and-pull of ‘easy, too easy, wrap it up quick’ and ‘longer, needs to be longer, so what if my reputation sinks.’ But he’s nothing if not loyal so he had done what needed to be done at the appropriate times, nothing more and nothing less.
He wishes he could hurry along to the three month espionage missions but that’s not quite his forte. At least not yet. Besides, if he’s caught too frequently the hokage will get suspicious. A ninja of his caliber wouldn’t get caught snooping daily unless they meant to, after all.
“You have a brother.”
The Uchiha blinks at him slowly.
“I do.”
“You’re never home,” Kakashi says, and even he’s not sure if the words are meant to be accusing or confused.
He doesn’t pull off confusion very well, even when he legitimately feels it, but Uchiha Itachi doesn’t seem to pull off any emotion very well. Maybe that’s why it is only a few more moments before the boy says “He doesn’t stop being my brother just because we don’t see each other.”
Kakashi blinks and lets out a noncommittal hum. After another minute of eye contact, followed by a murmured “taichou” he is left alone.
The words stick with him through the ensuing silence and echo in his head over the coming weeks. It is only eight months and four missions later, as he stares at Uchiha Sasuke laying in a hospital bed, that the echoes finally cease.
After all, he reasons, if they truly hadn’t stopped being siblings then Itachi would have either killed the child or taken him with him. The Uchiha always went above and beyond to keep their loved ones from suffering, after all, and if being left alone isn’t suffering then he doesn’t know what is.
He readjusts his ANBU mask and resolves to stop thinking of his teacher. The only things he’ll visit in-village now are the memorial stone and the bookstore. No need for the grocery store— his rations are filled from ANBU reserves more days than not— and friends… Well. He’s never been very good for friends anyway.
“You were too close to Itachi.”
Kakashi no longer even questions it, just meets the hokage’s eyes expressionlessly.
“You can watch him during ANBU guard duty, nothing else.”
He doesn’t even bother nodding before he leaves with a quick turn and a shunshin. At this point he hadn’t even realized he had more left to give up but he supposes he’s glad someone friendly realized it before it became a problem. Now he can just remove himself from any upcoming guard duties and not have to worry about any of it.
He knows for a fact at least two of the ANBU that passed through the area in the past hour noticed him. Not to mention the ones actually on guard. As he scratches his cheek through his mask he wonders if he can get away with reporting them for neglect whenever he finally gets brought in. Maybe if he passes it off as a sassy remark? Or makes a joke about how obviously superior he is?
He considers this as he flips a page in the book he is pretending to read as he pretends to sneak glances at the child he pretends doesn’t exist. It’s quite hard work, really. A part of him wishes he could brag about how no one seems to suspect, but that would ruin the whole ‘no one suspects’ part of it and also garner some rather strange looks so he supposes he’ll just have to live without.
With a sigh, he resolves to go bump into the Uchiha brat at a weapons stall instead. If he subtly convinces the boy to ask him a question or two it’ll probably get noticed by someone who will actually care.
Kakashi wonders distantly if this is what anger feels like. His whole world feels a bit fuzzy but despite that the deep feeling bubbling in his stomach and his chest takes a bit of effort to push down. He finds himself glad to have spent so long with a book in front of his face. He’s not quite sure what his expression would have been if he was forced to make eye contact with the man he chose over Danzo. He’s never regretted choosing the hokage before, outlandish claims of a better Konoha aside he’s still loyal . But in this moment he thinks he could almost find it in him to damn the village in order to watch the man die.
It reminds him a little of how he used to feel with Obito. He had thought at the time that that feeling was pure anger, but it pales in comparison to this.
He accepts the files with one hand and tucks them away, eyes never leaving his book, and saunters back to his spot. It is only a few more minutes before the meeting wraps up and Asuma appears at his side.
“Well if I didn’t already know you were one of his favourites, I definitely would now,” the man grumbles.
A raised eyebrow is his response, gaze still fixed on his book.
“Oh come on, you finally get to spend time with that kid you’ve been watching for years! Don’t even try to tell me you’re not happy about it.”
That garners Asuma eye contact and a dubious expression. Then again, if the father has never been very good at understanding his motivations it’s little wonder the son is the same.
“If you are talking about the Uchiha brat, I’ve only been keeping an eye on him because I figured I’d be asked to teach him at some point,” he allows. Asuma’s bitter expression shifts a bit towards dumbfounded, a bit towards exasperated. Before the man can prod any further an exuberant shout and a green blur gives Kakashi the excuse he needs to leave. He takes it sooner than his next breath.
He stares at the memorial stone, resolutely focusing on two specific names. He doesn’t know the others, doesn’t care about any others. He lost nothing in the Kyuubi attack, had nothing to lose in the Kyuubi attack. Hadn’t had anything for quite a while. The only things he regrets are the things he did with his own hands, the two names killed through his own inaction.
He spends a few hours convincing himself of this, but as always he’s not sure it will stick.
He opens the door and lets the eraser fall on his head, hoping the weight will ground him more solidly in this moment.
The only Uchiha he’s ever really known was the one placed on his own genin team. The only Uzumaki he’d ever known had been a safe and vague acquaintance. The look in the pink haired brat’s eyes reminds him of no one.
Despite his best efforts, something in him starts screaming as his gaze drifts over black eyes and blond hair. The voices are higher pitched, but he can’t help but be reminded of—
He feels no regret, only a low burning and bitter anger as he says
“My first impression is…. I hate you.”
He leaves before the children’s expressions can make him change his mind.