Chapter Text
Almost everyone in the shinobi world knows of Kakashi Hatake.
And those who are familiar with him can typically rattle off a few key facts about the silver-haired man.
He’s a jōnin of Konoha, a prodigy, the Hatake clan heir, the son of Konoha’s White Fang, and an exceptionally skilled shinobi to boot.
But what if none of that were actually true? What if the one who calls himself Kakashi Hatake is only pretending to be?
What if that was exactly the case here?
The truth of the matter is that Kakashi Hatake’s true name is Madara, and the name is one he’s carried eons before the village of Konoha was even dreamed of. Naturally, it’s also quite inaccurate to consider him a prodigy regardless of how talented and powerful he may be. It simply wouldn't be fair to bestow that title upon him when he’s actually older than everyone else in the village combined.
As for his supposed status as a shinobi, that's merely a role he plays for the sake of his own amusement. He's a colossal wolf youkai of incredible power. There is no being in the world that Madara truly answers to. And in regard to being considered a Hatake, it’s only a minor allowance to fulfill his end of a deal.
At least Madara would tell himself that he doesn’t care about any of those things, and he would certainly say the same if anybody else were to ask. Although, if anyone ever knew the full story of how he came to be in this situation, they would certainly beg to differ.
Nonetheless, it all began decades and decades ago during the Warring States Period.
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Madara generally steers clear of the shinobi, as do most of the other youkai. Not that youkai have much to fear from the belligerent little creatures, especially not a being as powerful as he is. In fact, the overwhelming majority of shinobi, as is typical of humans at large, pose nearly no threat whatsoever to youkai.
As entities of spiritual energy, youkai are generally invisible to the human eye. Every few generations or so, a single human might be born with enough spiritual power to see, hear, or even seal away youkai. However, such individuals are highly rare among the general population and are fundamentally unheard of in shinobi. Madara's personal theory is that their heavy use of chakra leaves their reserves of spiritual energy grossly underdeveloped in comparison to that of the average human.
And even if shinobi could see youkai, their weapons and jutsus would have little to no impact. Physical attacks carry no actual force against youkai unless one also possesses a significant base of spiritual power. Similarly, chakra-based techniques would likely dissipate upon contact as well. A youkai’s spiritual energy and a shinobi’s chakra could be regarded as incompatible forces, not unlike how a flame is unable to burn water.
All in all, the unofficial consensus was that shinobi were hardly worth bothering about. They had a reputation for being an irksome bunch and weren’t particularly tasty to eat anyway.
Madara had hardly intended to veer so closely to the shinobi’s encampment on account of those aforementioned reasons. And yet he had found himself drawn in by the unusual noises he heard. Curiosity was always a difficult vice to resist, not just for Madara but for spirits as a whole. After all, a youkai’s existence could be quite dull indeed with new forms of entertainment so few and far between.
So against his better judgment, the massive wolf spirit slinks ever closer to their settlement.
As he lurks along the edges of their territory, Madara takes note of the shinobi's similarities in appearance as a number of them seem to share the same shade of silver hair and dark eyes. A family resemblance, he presumes. And while most families would be preparing for rest at this time in the evening, the majority of the humans here are on their feet. They appear to be in the midst of some sort of collective training session, sparring and fighting amongst each other vigorously although without the intention to injure or kill. Some swing swords and others flow through various motions as electricity crackles and arcs across their bodies.
This piques Madara's interest.
It's not strictly the novelty that attracts him as Madara himself possesses a similar ability to summon lightning strikes from the sky. Granted, those massive blasts are usually directed at those who have displeased him, and yet, there’s a finesse to the shinobi’s movements, an element of grace and precision that is backed by unmistakable power. He finds himself almost envious of these feats and of the level of exactness with which they are performed.
To think of the power that he could hold with such abilities...
Perhaps a closer look is in order.
Although no one would even know that he was there, Madara still elects to watch the proceedings from a less occupied area. He spies a girl, one with silver hair curling just past her shoulders, take a practiced stance in the center of a fairly secluded clearing. Madara saunters through the trees before settling in comfortably across from her, only to see her suddenly startle back in astonishment as her eyes somehow lock onto the exact space he's occupying.
She could see him.
The girl immediately lets out a cry, although Madara registers that the noise sounds quite unlike a shriek of fear. She shifts into a defensive position within seconds, her eyes hardening in determination. Her clansmen have flooded the area mere moments later, the high, piercing sound evidently a signal for reinforcements.
“Kanako!” several of them call out in alarm as they rush forward with weapons at the ready. But the girl pays them no heed, even as her fellow shinobi surround the clearing. Instead, Kanako studies Madara intently. She must’ve realized, once the initial shock had receded, that Madara had made no move to harm her even while her clan braced itself for battle.
Her voice cuts through the confused queries and cries of concern emanating from her kinsman.
“What are you?”
The rest of the clan whispers uneasily at that, but not in the way Madara had expected. From their perspective, the situation should have appeared very odd indeed. Not only was there no discernible threat to be found, but the girl who raised the alarm was now speaking to and addressing questions to the empty air. And yet the clan’s hushed murmurs were not the sounds of a community who feared that one of its own was hallucinating. No, their mannerisms seem far too wary for that if their shifting feet and cautious stances are any indication.
Maybe...
As unlikely as these circumstances are, the girl clearly possesses an uncommon, practically unheard-of amount of spiritual power for a shinobi. It's not inconceivable for her kinsman to carry a little of their own given the way that spiritual power tends to flow through families. So to test his theory, Madara slowly rises from where he had initially settled himself on the ground. He takes care to produce as much noise as possible as he stretches to his full height, his paws hitting the ground with deliberately loud thuds, his tail sweeping against the surrounding trees.
As it turns out, this provokes a reaction in almost three-quarters of the assembled shinobi. A few whip their heads in Madara’s direction, some shuffle around nervously, and others turn slowly towards him, their shoulders tense.
An unexpected development to say the least.
While Kanako appears to be the only one capable of seeing him outright, it seems as though many of these shinobi are capable of sensing his presence in some shape or form. They can tell that something is there, that something exists just beyond the limits of their perception.
This could be very interesting indeed.
So Madara looks down at the girl's pale face and answers in a deep, rumbling voice. “A youkai, simply passing through.”
Kanako's eyes widen at his response, her hands shaking almost imperceptibly. Nevertheless, she repeats his answer for the rest of the shinobi to hear, and Madara sees alarm, disbelief, and confusion spread over their faces. Whispers and murmurs break out at once, the volume of their voices growing louder by the second.
A brief look of annoyance flits over Kanako’s face upon the interruption. Looking back over her shoulder at her clansmen, she gathers chakra to cast what Madara would later learn was called a genjutsu, a technique employed to manufacture illusions. Kanako had used it then as a means to show her fellow clan members the vision that only she was privy to at the time.
That is, a white wolf at least fifteen feet in height towering over them all, a beast with golden eyes and scarlet markings on its face, a creature with jaws large enough to snap closed around a grown man.
There were more than a few audible gasps at that, and the humans almost seem to be on the verge of outright panic now. However, a tall, stern-faced man who sports the silver hair shared by many of the shinobi speaks up, having been among the first to recover from the shock.
“Okami, why have you come here?”
The man's voice rings with an air of inherent authority, and the hum of voices dies down almost immediately at his words. It's evident that the humans regard this man as a leader, one with the power to speak on behalf of the rest. And with this thought, Madara is hit with an absurd yet intriguing idea that the more rational part of his mind immediately attempts to shoot down.
Why even bother?
It’s foolish, pointless really. But the impulse has already taken hold.
But why not?
It’s not as if Madara has anything to lose from trying.
“My apologies, I did not intend to intrude upon your clan," he begins. "However, I couldn’t help but be fascinated by your abilities.”
The flattery may be a bit much, especially since Madara would've assumed that shinobi would be too crafty to be swayed by such praise. But he's counting on the humans being far too disarmed by his presence to recognize it for what it is.
“I would be interested in learning your skills should you be willing to teach me," Madara continues, his gaze meeting the girl's own.
He can sense the fear rolling off of her in minuscule waves, and yet she stands before him, seemingly impassive in the eyes of a casual observer.
"But I would hardly expect you to do this and gain nothing in return," he leans in closer, only eight feet of space separating him and the girl now. "You live in dangerous times after all. I could compensate your clan by providing you all with my protection."
The wolf youkai sweeps his gaze over the clearing, taking in the sight of all the humans gathered there. "You would have a powerful spirit on your side.”
Save for a slight hitch in her breath, Kanako barely lets her surprise show as she once again relays his words to the others. To their credit, the other shinobi refrain from muttering and whispering amongst themselves upon the pronouncement of his proposition. Silence falls throughout the forest as the tall man fixes his eyes in Madara’s direction, his features creasing in thought.
Even on the off chance that these shinobi are willing to teach him, there's little guarantee that Madara will be capable of making any use of their knowledge. Still, this is without a doubt the most intriguing prospect he’s come across in the past twenty years. He’ll be damned if he lets an opportunity like this slip by.
The tall man ponders his proposal as a wide array of emotions manifests itself across the others’ faces. Worry, shock, doubt, curiosity, and much much more are mirrored throughout their expressions. But they nor Madara has to wait long for an answer.
“Very well, Okami," the man responds. “We have an agreement.”
At this, the clearing erupts into a din of voices, but Madara simply bares his teeth in a grin.
Yes, this was going to be very interesting indeed.