Chapter Text
At first, young Naruto believes it’s his secret superpower to magically drain violence out of other people. Unbeknownst to him, it is usually the discretely thrown shuriken or kunai stopping them in their tracks; reminding them of the protection the boy is under.
Even Naruto is able to discern a pattern after plenty of repetitions. Whenever he’s about to get hurt (physically) or in mortal danger they’ll appear wearing masks and equipped in battle gear. One ANBU in particular comes to the rescue whenever villagers spew vitriol against the child, only to vanish after making sure Naruto isn’t hurt otherwise.
Therefore Naruto starts pulling pranks, deliberately antagonizing the villagers to make his guardian angel(s) appear.
One effective method seems to be flinging himself off the Hokage Monument…
Upon realizing what Naruto is doing, Kakashi facepalms so hard, he thinks he sees Obito with long hair.
—
It must be a hallucination due to sleep deprivation…
Kakashi despairs, his teacher’s precious son has no self-preservation whatsoever. Unable to bear the thought of Naruto coming to any more harm, he takes on the ANBU guard job for Naruto more frequently.
Carrying the weight of at least four lost lives, he doesn’t see any other choice.
Sometimes Kakashi wonders what he must have done in his previous life to deserve this; then he carries on. He likes staying busy.
—
The ANBU guards don’t stay. They usually don’t engage in a fight and prioritize getting Naruto to safety and vanishing as soon as they’ve made sure he hasn’t sustained any physical damage.
Kakashi begins the habit of staying for a while and asking Naruto gently if he’d like to have some company. Those days are Naruto’s favorite. Even though his chest feels so very tight, to the point where breathing hurts and his eyes burn. He desperately holds on to his rescuer’s hand and nods his head mutely while clamping his eyes shut.
Kakashi looks around at the cramped place of a flat, which still seems way too big for a child so small. He feels distinctly out of place in the face of emotional turmoil. Kakashi usually manages his emotions by not feeling anything. Some may call it unhealthy. He calls it a practical necessity.
They stay silent while Naruto tries suppressing his tears. He “should be grateful,” they say. He has his “own flat, no parents, no rules to adhere to”. At least, that’s what the older boys keep saying to him at the Academy — all the while enjoying their homemade bento, showcasing impeccable clothing, befitting the recent weather and rosy red cheeks.
Naruto has to wear multiple layers to stave of the chill he feels in the autumn wind. He keeps himself warm by exercising.
After mentally feeding his inner imagined fox with all the bad feelings, Naruto calms down enough to observe one of the only adults who doesn’t reject him. He wants to be as fearless and strong as the silver-haired man. The man’s hair is as spiky as Naruto’s bright blond hair but longer. His porcelain mask resembles the face of a dog, with red-rimmed almond shaped holes for the eyes and two red markings on each cheek. Naruto touches his own whisker marks on his round cheeks.
Maybe we’re related, Naruto thinks, he’d like that.
“Are you family?” are the first words Kakashi hears from Naruto.
The masked man faces Naruto. The boy stares into black eyeholes for a long moment, azure blue eyes zipping right and left, unable to decide which one to focus on, waiting with bated breath.
“It’s a secret,” Kakashi finally decides on. Luckily, any more inquiries are interrupted by a loud growl from Naruto’s stomach. Blushing and laughing merrily again, Naruto pats his belly with both hands.
Grinning widely, Naruto invites the masked man to a fishing adventure.
Relieved at not having to answer any other strange questions, Kakashi simply nods his head.
—
Kakashi ends up giving a sleepy Naruto his first piggyback ride, while carrying his unstrapped sword in his left hand, the smell of cooked fish clinging to their clothes.
Naruto rubs his cheek comfortably against Kakashi’s shoulder, wrapping his arms securely around the man’s neck, sighing happily.
Inside the cold steel-heart a small flame flares.