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“Your vitals are all functioning normally, exactly identical to that of a healthy woman carrying a child. I don’t see any complications in the near future, but I’ll need you to come for a check-up once a fortnight. That seal must stay on until you have delivered, meaning you need to remain female for the next nine months.”
“Excuse me.”
“Don’t give me that look, Orochimaru. Who exactly is the damn medic here?! I told you it was a dumb idea but did you listen? Goddamn boys and their stupid egos,” Tsunade growled as she ran green-tinged hands over his stomach and navel.
Diagnosis completed, she straightened, chakra fading from her palms. Only then did she allow the loud guffaws of Jiraiya to register. The third member of their team was still rolling around on the floor, clutching his stomach as he all but cried from mirth. An eyebrow ticked in irritation and the blonde didn’t hesitate to kick him (lightly) in the ribs, eliciting a pained whine.
“Shut up, Jiraiya. It’s partly your own fault, oh Great Seal-master. You knew he would try to alter it because you all but challenged him. Now look! Turning a simple Henge seal into a solid, full-body transformation! Honestly!”
“Not my fault he wanted to mess with a perfectly good seal, princess. I tried all possible alterations and I couldn’t even land the result Snake-bastard did! His chakra probably did something weird to it,” Jiraiya answered with a careless shrug, completely unbothered. After all, if Orochimaru himself wasn’t freaking out about needing to stay a woman for the next nine to ten months and give birth, why should he?
There was a soft sigh. “Back to the topic at hand, if you please. Tsunade, you cannot possibly expect me to spend nine whole months in the village, least of all make sensei take me off the active shinobi list temporarily. Konoha still needs us at the border even if the war is drawing to a close.”
“Yes, I can and yes, you will. Since this is only the first month, you will not feel anything wrong with your chakra, but that doesn’t mean exhausting yourself wouldn’t risk damaging the embryo. As your medic, I can submit my report to sensei and convince him to bench you for a while. Which he will. No, listen – ” the Slug-summoner held up a hand, forestalling Orochimaru’s protest before he could even open his mouth. “You may be an asset to the village, but the war is as good as over. There are other shinobi out there who can handle border missions and clean-up. The idiot and I will also be on standby. So right now, that child is your first priority. Are you willing to risk its life unnecessarily?”
A heavy air settled in the room, and Tsunade shifted on her feet, clearly uncomfortable. Her shoulders were tensed from part-worry, part-anxiousness. “Unless…you don’t plan on keeping it, of course. The ultimate decision is up to you, Oro-kun. I’ll abide by your wish.”
Orochimaru fell into silent contemplation, sharp mind instantly analysing the pros and cons of bearing the embryo to full maturity against continuing to go on high-ranked missions. Between his duty as a shinobi of Konohagakure and that of an unprepared parent, he knew which option he would choose in a heartbeat. Even without the mental list, there was no competition.
He wasn’t ready to be the caretaker of a tiny, dependant life. Heck, he didn’t even know what to do with a child, let alone an infant. Like his teammates often pointed out, he was lacking in emotional empathy, unsociable, favouring logic over his heart at any given time.
Could he be trusted to raise a squalling lump of flesh, blood and bones into a proper human? One didn’t need to be a genius to answer that. People entrusted him with corpses, not living humans. (A fact that stung, but he has long gotten used to it.)
He really ought to be asking Tsunade to perform an abortion right now and toss this matter from his mind. He should, but…
A child. Family. His.
A small part of his brain hissed in outrage at the thought of another innocent life being snuffed out by his hand. Despite how composed he usually appeared to be, Orochimaru had his own fair share of nightmares, most prominent after completing truly unsavoury missions. Honestly, he didn’t want more fuel to feed that particular monster.
In addition…this embryo wasn’t the result of rape. He knew what he was doing when he had seduced that Kumo-nin and knew what he was getting into when he was led to bed. The Snake Sannin could have killed his one-night-stand anytime he wanted, lost in the heat of things or not. He had been willing. And it wasn’t as if that jounin had walked away breathing after outliving his usefulness.
Thus, it all came down to how cold-hearted he was prepared to be. Not just towards himself, but to his teammates also. If abortion was his final choice, not only he would have to live with it until he died, Tsunade would be forced to as well, for she – and maybe Dan – was the only one he trusted with this risky procedure. Jiraiya… The idiot would put on his boisterous façade afterwards, then most likely disappear for months on end. Without a doubt, he would be left behind solely because his coping method was different than theirs.
For perhaps the first time in his life, Orochimaru found himself hesitating over making the rational call.
A none-too-gentle flick on his forehead brought him out of his thoughts.
“You don’t need to bear this all alone, you know?” Tsunade’s tone was placid despite the slight tightness around her eyes. “We’ll be here for you whenever you need help. That’s what a team’s for, right?”
“Ehehe…just don’t foist it on me until it’s at least a genin and we’re cool.”
“Ignore the idiot. I can help you raise it. After all, I had experience. With……”
Nawaki, Orochimaru mentally filled in the unfinished sentence. Ah, and there was the pang of guilt. If he voiced a desire for abortion, it would definitely crush Tsunade’s spirit and cause her to isolate herself emotionally again.
A sudden thought occurred. Here was a perfect opportunity to tie both his teammates down to his side. Here was a way to ensure his anchor did not break and leave him floating out at sea, carried away by strong currents. All he needed to do is give them a reason to stay. For Tsunade, a target to focus on and numb the pain of losing Nawaki. For Jiraiya, a place where he was wanted and welcomed. Much like Orochimaru himself, if the Snake-summoner was being honest.
He had seen the faraway look in both their eyes, when they thought they were alone, and each time it surfaced, his heartbeat spiked in panic. He knew he would crumble if they left. If they abandoned him. (Jiraiya more than Tsunade, for the princess still had her boyfriend.)
Orochimaru was too much of a selfish person to allow the one thing shielding him from the rest of the world to fall apart. Over his dead body.
So it was with a curt nod that he finally spoke again. “I’m keeping it.”
Using the unborn child as a means to an end.
Selfish, selfish person that he was.
But so worth it.
… …
… …
With the way he had mercilessly teased and trolled everyone under his command upon becoming ANBU Captain and later as a jounin-sensei, then a Hokage, Kakashi figured it was about time karma finally came back to bite him in the arse.
Only, he sort of wished his end was more…spectacular to make up for being the universe’s chew toy. Like fighting another insane Goddess. Or at least saving the village from total destruction.
Oh, it’s not like he died choking on a bone or something equally humiliating. He went out with a bang. Quite literally, in fact. So it wasn’t the how that he regretted. It was to whom.
The recently retired Rokudaime Hokage had died taking down nameless nuke-nins. The infamous Copy-nin, felled by his own hands. Blown up by his own experimental jutsu. The only consolation was that he took every last one of them down with him.
Still, Rin and Obito were surely laughing their butts off at him in the Pure World.
‘Well, whatever. At least Naruto had already taken up the Hokage mantle. Konoha is in good hands and I lived well past my thirties’, were Kakashi’s last thoughts as he blacked out.
He died with a smile on his face, eyes open and mind prepared to see his loved ones soon.
He should have known he wouldn’t be so lucky.
The universe was too sadistic to leave him in peace.
… …
He opened his eyes, expecting to see another campfire with a dead soul waiting around to speak to him. Or a bright light splitting the darkness in two, beckoning him to enter. You know, something similar to the last time he died during Pain’s Invasion.
All that met him was a rather distorted reflection of himself, marred by winding lines and random ripples upon the smooth, mirror-like surface. He wanted to get closer, to study this anomaly carefully and figure this puzzle out, only to discover solid ground giving way beneath his feet.
Nothing ever went the way he expected it to when it came to his life, though, so Kakashi can safely say he wasn’t all that shocked when he felt invisible chains wrap around his ankles and pulled before he can so much as draw breath to curse. Reflexes had him clawing the air in an attempt to find purchase, only for his fingers to close around air.
Darkness fell away and dead silence was rudely broken by hushed murmurs. The first thing he registered was wet and cold. There was a layer of something clinging to his…everywhere and he wanted it off, dammit. Death was supposed to be the beginning of forever in the Pure World, right? So like heck he was going to spend eternity feeling so uncomfortable. Unless…he was in Hell?
The thought alone was enough to make his insides squirm, but Kakashi wasn’t one to lie to himself. Mostly. Either way, he was self-aware enough to know he might have done a shitload of sinful deeds to stain a dozen lifetimes like any broken shinobi were prone to. He dearly hoped he wasn’t doomed to spending eternity in Hell.
Any further musings or incoming panic attacks were derailed by a sudden smack on his bottom. The squeak that emerged from his mouth was half-incredulous and half-shocked. Who had the gall to smack him there?!
The insolence! The sheer audacity!
It’s only when he tried turning his head to see his surroundings did Kakashi realised his eyelids were closed. And he had a bad case of muscle control problems. He couldn’t even move his arms! With practised ease coming from long years of containing his meltdowns in public, he shoved all other concerns away, focusing on one thing at a time.
Forcing his eyelids to move, he ended up squinting at blurry coloured blobs, struggling to make sense of what he was currently seeing. A slight shift of his head to the right showed him an even bigger yellow and green blob that was moving further away by the second. To his left and drawing closer was a vaguely humanoid face, with what he assumed was dark hair and pale skin. As soon as he was carefully laid on his back upon a warm surface, Kakashi mentally gathered himself in preparation to move.
Unfortunately, this self-appointed task was harder to do than he first assumed. His limbs were still out of his control, he was bundled up from head to toe in some kind of fabric and his strength was sapping at an abnormally fast rate. He thought he had died, but this felt more like being drugged. Had they managed to pull him back from the brink of death? Or was this merely a strange version of the afterlife? So many questions with no answers, and worst of all, he was as helpless as a newborn pup.
He couldn’t see clearly, couldn’t hear clearly, couldn’t move beyond the slightest wriggle, and his sense of smell was dulled to the point that he couldn’t make out anything specific that will help him figure out his current surroundings.
Frustration mounting despite fatigue setting in, Kakashi snarled.
What emerged was a pathetic shriek.
What the heck.
Kakashi was pretty sure he had a deeper voice and a more developed larynx than that. Uncertainty was slowly worming its way into the corners of his mind. Opening his mouth, he tried to say the simplest word possible. Nothing came out this time. Only drool.
Shodai’s balls.
Before he can contemplate doing something else, like try biting hard enough on his tongue in order to ensure he wasn’t under a genjutsu or whatnot, his eyelids grew heavy. He didn’t bother struggling against the pull of sleep, gladly surrendering to oblivion. Maybe when he next woke up, this weird crap would start making sense.
… …
Fun fact: It didn’t.
It got worse.
Why?
Well, let’s see. Number one: Kakashi woke to intense hunger. While his muddled mind’s initial reaction was to get up and go search for something to eat, his body decided otherwise. It chose to announce his discomfort with a loud wail.
Which lead to number two: Being picked up and having a nipple stuffed in his mouth.
Hence number three: His mental breakdown over ‘why am I breastfeeding what the hell is this woman doing I’m a grown-ass adult dammit’.
And then number four: Discovering he wasn’t a grown-ass adult anymore. At least, not physically.
Kakashi mentally checked out instantly. Because like heck is he going to be around – mentally, of course – when his bowel muscles failed him later.
He’ll return when his physical body hit the one-year mark.
Probably.
Definitely after he threw a huge tantrum over being denied eternal rest.
He wasn’t ungrateful over being somehow given a second chance at life, just…tired…
… …
… …
By the end of his eight hours long period of labour, Orochimaru had gained a newfound respect for all mothers. Anyone who had gone through this torture and lived was worthy of praise.
He felt weak, exhausted, muscles sore beyond belief at the end of that ordeal. The final hour had been especially trying as he worked to force the infant out, and in the process, he had crushed the hands of two medics. Fortunately, both were shinobi, and neither of them were Tsunade, as she undertook the role of midwife. Besides, he was sure the Senju would have crushed his hand instead.
When there was no telltale wailing of a healthy baby after it was picked up by Tsunade, Orochimaru tried to sit up further and see if it was stillborn. It would be disappointing for all his earlier efforts to go to waste, but it would spare him the troubles of parenthood.
However, that was not to be.
A mere few moments later, a silent, squirming bundle was passed into his arms. It took a little bit of awkward manoeuvring and tentative placement of fingers before the new mother – father? – felt comfortable enough to look down at the infant’s face. A tuft of black hair like his own, the newborn’s skin was definitely tan. As far as he could tell, anyway. Not as dark as the sperm donor’s colouring had been, but definitely a few shades darker than his unnaturally pale tone. The two big eyes were still an undecided blue, framed by purple markings identical to his own.
The baby was rather lively for a newborn, for it – he, according to Tsunade – had yet to cease struggling against the confining wrapping of the cloth prison. Orochimaru merely waited and watched, curious to see what he would do next.
Five minutes, a single unhappy noise and a bit of drool later, he was left with a sleeping infant and what felt like satisfaction curling in his stomach. He supposed it could be worse. At least this child who shared half his genetic material was quiet. Perhaps this child-rearing endeavour might not be as gruelling as he predicted.
Still, he was confined to bed rest for a week or two for postpartum recovery due to his incident being the precedent. Although he wasn’t lactating due to the absence of appropriate hormones, Tsunade had ordered him to remain as a woman until the two weeks were up, and she was to be present when he removed the seal. During this time, the yet unnamed infant was handed over to a wet-nurse – a retired jounin kunoichi he was still in contact with even after the both of them had left the orphanage and joined the shinobi corps – to be taken care of.
Something both his teammates vehemently disapproved of.
But Orochimaru stood firm. While he might be resigned to being a parent, he wasn’t willing to spend time with a demanding little lump of barely functional human. He’ll be back before the tyke turned one and will take care of him from then onwards. As for a name…he will pick out something appropriate before then.
Besides, Hiruzen-sensei supported his plan to keep this child a secret for now, lest news leaked out and assassins came. Or kidnappings happened. The Snake Sannin was well aware of interested parties both within and out of the village who would love to get their hands on offsprings of legends. Thus, he will keep away for now, until either the war reached its official end or the infant became less dependent on a permanent carer. While he would greatly prefer to only come into the child’s life whenever the boy could begin training, the Sandaime had put his foot down. Something about parent-child bonding that didn’t revolve around the shinobi arts.
Orochimaru didn’t argue, for between the two of them, Hiruzen was more experienced in the field of parenthood. The Sandaime’s kids turned out fine so far, though most likely due to Biwako’s presence than his sensei’s.
As soon as he was declared fit for duty, Orochimaru went straight to the Hokage and demanded a mission to ease him back to active field work. He was getting twitchy at the lack of action for nearly a year, and working in his laboratory could only placate him for so long.
The mission his old sensei passed to him was a border patrol of Kusa and Ame that doubled as an outpost inspection too. Even if the group he was put in charge of were to travel at jounin speed, it would take at least two to three months to complete. He couldn’t have asked for a better way to pass the time.
Two months turned to three, than four as a few last-minute efforts from other Hidden Villages were repelled. The official surrender had yet to be signed, after all, so the war was still being waged between those who can spare the manpower for it, hoping against all odds that the fickleness of fate might bring Konoha to her knees. By the end of the fourth month, he was on the last stretch of the Hi-Kusa border, temper beginning to fray.
Over the course of this border-run, he had lost five subordinates under his direct command, rescued the surviving members of an outpost sieged by Iwa-nin and was currently struggling to keep Tsunade’s boy-toy from bleeding out all over his snake.
On the upside, however, he could proudly report that three new jutsus he had been toying around with during his maternity leave worked as predicted. Some of it yielded better results than others. In fact, the static jutsu on Dan was working marvellously. With this invention, as well as Dan’s life, of course, he would definitely be able to wrangle at least two favours from the Senju princess.
Four months, two weeks, five days and eighteen hours from the day he left Konoha, Orochimaru finally stepped through the guarded gates again. Tsunade was there with a handful of medi-nins, efficiently carting the more grievously wounded ninja to the hospital. He left them to it, ordering his second-in-command to have her fractured arm fixed before he turned on his heel and headed towards the Hokage Tower.
Debriefing took far less time than usual because his sensei was probably feeling merciful. With a command to hand in a written report before the week was out, he was excused. Orochimaru left for his house immediately, intending to shower, dress his non-life-threatening wounds and pass out on his bed.
He was woken up by someone knocking on his door and afternoon sunlight streaming past the edges of his bedroom window’s curtain. The muffled, boisterous voice was all too familiar, but the three yet unrefined chakra signatures crowding around Jiraiya’s was unknown to him.
Rubbing a hand down his face when the pounding got more insistent, he quickly slipped into his usual shinobi attire. Yanking the door open before Jiraiya smashed it down, Orochimaru regarded him silently with exasperated annoyance.
“Snake-bastard!” The Toad Sage grinned, shouldering past the threshold into the living room with practised ease. “Princess told me you’ve returned, so I brought my team to meet you!”
Golden eyes flicked over the three genins staring up at him as the door clicked shut.
“Sensei gave you brats?” His tone was incredulous. An orphan boy, a second-generation kunoichi and the Uchiha Clan Heir. He couldn’t believe the Uchihas didn’t protest vehemently at letting their precious heir be taught by the Legendary Self-proclaimed Pervert. Though perhaps they firmly believed the Uchiha genes would be resistant to Jiraiya’s lecherous behaviour, or that the honour of having a Sannin tutor Fugaku was worth the risk of being tainted by perversion.
“Well, it’s not like I lack experience in teaching,” Jiraiya replied with a shrug. “Besides, they are useful minions to have around when dealing with your brat.”
Orochimaru blinked once, slowly. His brat?
Oh, right. The child. He would be four or five months old now, hmm? Which meant he would be decently house-trained and the Snake-summoner could probably tolerate his presence around his abode.
“How many times have you checked in on the child?”
“Eh, about twice a month? Tsunade gives him a regular check-up at Nori-chan’s house too. Kid’s doing good, mostly sleeps though, so he’s not much trouble. But seriously, you need to pick a name for him soon, Orochi. We’ve been calling him “Chibi-kun” but you don’t want him thinking that’s his real name, right?” The white-haired man narrowed his eyes. “You are going to take him from Nori-chan soon, yeah?”
Orochimaru flicked a dismissive hand through the air, eyeing the genins currently gawking curiously around his house, eager to have them out of the door. “Of course. Now, is there anything else you need?”
“Nah, just wanted to introduce them. Surly is Uchiha Fugaku, blondie is Namikaze Minato and girlie is Tatami Kameyo. Sensei’s still giving me missions in between training them, so I’ll be dumping them on you when I’m unavailable and you are in the village.”
It was Orochimaru’s turn to narrow his eyes and hiss in outrage. “And why in the Sage’s name do you think I will consent to this, you clay-brained lout?!”
Unfortunately, his teammate had been on the receiving end of his ire countless times that he recognised the beginning of a scathing rant even before the first sentence ended. Jiraiya deftly gathered his team up and vanished out the door, leaving a snarling Snake-summoner to hiss a threatening “you’ll come back to one less brat each time, idiot!” in his wake.
Still, even as he sat back and considered what he would do if – when – Jiraiya really foisted them on him, Orochimaru could see all the ways he’ll be able to twist things to his advantage. The Uchiha could help him further his Sharingan research, and he could test some jutsus and seals on the other two. Or have them test it for him. Not to mention, he could make them take care of his child during that period.
Hmm…he supposed he could humour the idiot every once in a while. It would be a win-win situation for everyone.
… …
… …
To his heartfelt sorrow, Kakashi returned to awareness at the age of two months, and at first opportunity, proceeded to stage a protest at his current caretaker’s feeding methods. Nori – a retired kunoichi who lost a leg in the Second Shinobi War, as he later learned – was a friend of his absent parent. She was in her early thirties, with a no-nonsense personality and dry humour. She was also eerily perceptive, able to determine his refusal to breastfeed after the first two tries. From then on, she fed him from a bottle.
Mentally, Kakashi nodded in approval. Smart friends meant his parent wasn’t an idiot, or if they were, someone would be there to set them straight. If he didn’t already.
Still, this realisation that he was born a year or two before the Hatake Kakashi of this time wasn’t exactly all that comforting. It meant he would have to experience the Third War over again, and make plans on how to prevent Obito’s demise at the Kannabi Bridge, thus derailing Madara and Zetsu’s scheme. Oh, plus Danzo and Root. That pesky Councillor has to be dealt with as soon as possible in order to prevent the Uchiha Massacre.
Ah, he’s in for a busy future.
The next couple of months were spent mostly asleep, waking only to eat, have his diapers changed, see if his muscles were developed enough for him to crawl and making an ever-growing mental list of things to do.
His caretaker seemed to be a loner, for no one came to visit. No friends, no family. Or at least, none that visited when he was awake.
This mundane routine was broken first by Tsunade barging into Nori’s home and heading straight for Kakashi’s cot.
When the busty blonde swept into the bedroom, he was sitting up and wide awake, thus free to stare at his future Godaime. Taking in the Konoha hitai-ate on her forehead and the jounin vest replacing the green haori he had gotten so used to associating with the Slug-princess, Kakashi began to work out exactly when in the timeline he was reborn in. If Tsunade was still a Konoha-nin, it meant the Second Shinobi War was still ongoing, and Nawaki and Dan might still be alive.
But what was she doing in the village? Weren’t the Legendary Sannin deployed on the frontlines in order to turn the tides of war in Konoha’s favour until the official declaration of surrender from the other Great Villages? What changed this time around? On top of that, why was she going out of the way to visit Nori’s house just to give him a regular, full-body check-up? Was his new identity related to her? Or was he related to someone she was close with?
It’s not as though there was a convenient mirror laying around he could access with his current limited mobility to check out his new features with.
So many questions, with no way to express them or obtain answers. While Tsunade kept up a light, one-sided conversation throughout the entire process to distract him as she poked and prodded, she didn’t divulge anything noteworthy. Other than the fact she can’t seem to decide if his absent parent was his father or mother. Which was intriguing, but nothing too bizarre to worry over.
A bare few days after the Senju’s visit, the next Sannin made his appearance, along with his genin team.
Kakashi couldn’t help but stare as the four of them trudged into the living room, the rubber kunai he was trying to bend instantly forgotten. A small part of him absently noted the flinches of the Uchiha and the kunoichi when subjected to his unblinking gaze, but he tossed those reactions to the back of his mind for closer scrutiny later. At present, all he cared about was his mini-sensei. Who was now a ten-year-old kid, if memory served him right.
The last time he saw Minato-sensei was after Team 7 defeated Kaguya, and even then, he lingered in the background, content to let Naruto hog the short period to say farewell to his father. Both Naruto and Minato deserved it, and Kakashi himself had made peace with his grief – as much as his heart allowed, anyway. But the happiness at seeing his once-sensei and father figure after Sakumo again – alive, innocent and still so bright – couldn’t be contained.
“This, my little minions, is the objective of your mission today,” Jiraiya began dramatically, gesturing at the attentive baby as the three genins hunkered down in front of the playpen. “We’ll be taking care of the kid until Nori-chan comes back in the evening.”
“Oh, does he have a name, sensei?” The kunoichi asked, reaching out to pet Kakashi lightly on the head. The action earned her a pouty frown and an annoyed flail in her general direction.
“No. His parent hasn’t given him one yet.”
Kakashi’s attention shifted to the Uchiha as the dark-haired boy leaned forward, studying the infant’s face intently. “It’s not surprising. Orochimaru-sama has been away for quite some time, so – ”
“Fugaku-kun, I don’t have to remind you to keep this to yourself, do I?” Jiraiya interrupted, much to Kakashi’s displeasure. The boy was about to divulge more information than any of the scant few visitors he had, and what does Orochimaru have to do with him?
“Hn,” Fugaku grunted with a scowl, sounding and looking so much like Sasuke that Kakashi nearly snorted. “I don’t see why it has to be kept a secret. Anyone with a brain can tell whose kid he is. The eyes and markings are a dead give-away.”
“It’s only until he gets back.”
Now, never let it be said the Hatake – former Hatake – was hailed as a genius for nothing. A couple of silent looks and a short dialogue was enough to paint a full picture of his situation. The little bits and pieces he picked up over the months finally came together.
Faint nausea stirred in his stomach. Somewhere in front of him, the conversation was still ongoing, but he heard none of it. His steadily increasing heartbeat drummed in his ears, and to his embarrassment, hot tears gathered in his eyes. His breath came out in short, panicked puffs and his muscles froze, mind whirring.
Orochimaru.
The Snake Sannin was his father.
The very same man who unflinchingly experimented on children, cut them open, spliced them and abandoned them when they were deemed failures. The very person who featured in Tenzo’s many night terrors. The very one who turned traitor under Danzo’s careful manipulation, indirectly killed the Sandaime and corrupted Sasuke.
The only reason Kakashi had not ordered Orochimaru’s death when he was Rokudaime was because the Snake had essentially became immortal. Killing his physical body did nothing to harm his soul. Or at least, death wouldn’t be permanent. The small pieces of soul-chakra fusion that were implanted in numerous unknown locations would simply gather and resurrect Orochimaru. Unless one destroyed all existing soul-chakra fragments, the Snake-summoner wouldn’t be truly gone.
He could have sent covert teams around the Elemental Nations to hunt down every last bit, sure, but as the leader of his village so soon post-war, he had larger, more imminent issues to take care of. First and foremost was the lack of shinobi he could spare for such an endeavour, then there was the Shinobi Alliance, new and tentative peace between major and minor Hidden Villages, restoring Konoha, reforms that he planned to implement during his reign and so on.
Which was why he had to make do with sticking a routine of ninja to watch Orochimaru. Tenzou had been the first, but ANBU needed a commander and Sai was still lacking in experience. Also, Kakashi wasn’t that much of an asshole to subject his cute little kohai to more trauma.
Either way, while Orochimaru had mellowed somewhat after the Fourth Shinobi World War, Kakashi never quite learned to let his guard down around the Snake, nor had he wanted to. One right didn’t make up for all the atrocities the Snake committed. He was no Naruto, who had compassion in spades and the power to pummel Orochimaru into the ground should anything get out of hand.
Although after everything that happened, the comrades Kakashi lost directly and indirectly to the Snake-summoner, Kakashi supposed he should hate him. But hate was so…draining. And as a forty-plus adult at heart, he can’t seem to conjure such intense emotion and channel it all on the body of one person. Especially not when there were entities out there far more deserving of his hatred.
Nonetheless, to learn he was now the child – possible test-tube baby – of the very Sannin whom nearly made him wet himself when he was a foolish ANBU biting off more than he could chew…
It wasn’t a pleasant revelation, and even if his mind came to terms with this, his infantile body and temper made his fright and dread clear.
Needless to say, by the time Team Jiraiya left Nori’s house that day, their first impression of Kakashi was that he threw tantrums for no reason, then fell eerily silent once the waterworks was over. Creepy kid, was the general consensus, but then again, given who his parent was, it was kind of expected.
The next time this lot visited, they came bearing gifts. Apparently Kameyo thought it best to entertain Kakashi with stuffed toys in order to prevent another crying fit. The apprehension on their faces as he shuffled along on his bottom towards the line of toys nearly made him cackle aloud. But he didn’t. Because he was a good little baby and he highly doubt this body could pull off a cliché villain laugh just yet. He’ll have time to mess with them in the future.
Besides, Minato was his beloved sensei in another life, Fugaku was one of the few Uchihas who voted in favour of allowing Kakashi to keep Obito’s eye all those years ago, and Kameyo reminded him a little of Tsume. Blunt, brash, and uncaring of social niceties. If the rest of her personality was anything like the future Inuzuka matriarch, he wouldn’t want to piss her off too much.
He’ll play nice this time.
And if half his mushy baby food somehow ended up in Jiraiya’s hair, and Fugaku somehow became the culprit for dirtying the stuffed bear Kameyo brought over, Kakashi had no idea. He was busy cuddling a toy dog and dozing off against Minato’s chest.
… …
From his position in the crib, Kakashi watched in fascination as Nori packed all the leftover nappies, milk-powder, toys and various other baby necessities into a large bag. From the time he realised who he was related to, he had been expecting this to occur sooner or later. In spite of his hopes and wishes, Orochimaru was a Sannin for a reason, and people like him didn’t die easy.
With nothing to occupy his mind, Kakashi amused himself by playing with his chakra. For about a month now, he had been able to sense his tiny chakra reserves that were growing at a faster rate than it did in his previous life. At present, however, the most he did was direct a miniscule amount to his hands and feet, taking care not to push any to the surface of his skin. He was merely familiarising himself so using it in the future during training would be instinctive. His mind might be that of a veteran, but his body lacked the muscle memories of his old self. Doing more at this age would only result in severe chakra exhaustion and a high risk of messing up his pathways. There were dangers involved with exercising external chakra usage at such an early age, when the body’s chakra system was still not fully developed. Like overworking a bone that was recently broken in a dozen places before it can set properly. Hence, internal practise only.
Although Sakumo hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time with his son, the exercises and warnings he imparted on Kakashi before his genin graduation were a great help now.
Thinking about his once-father made him think about Orochimaru. Again. It seemed as if his mind was still dead-set on revolving around the Snake.
As a shinobi, no one could refute the man was one of the best in their world. As a parent, though? Who really knew? Kakashi had seen Mitsuki around Konoha a few times, mostly half-hidden behind Orochimaru’s robes, but he had been too busy with his Hokage responsibilities to observe both father and son interact. And now, after dying and ending up in the past, he would never see for himself what kind of person Mitsuki turned out to be.
Then, of course, there’s the ultimate question. What would the Orochimaru of this time be like? Certainly not the inhumane scientist that looked at everything as though they were mere specimens beneath the lens of a microscope. No, that had come later, during the height of the Third Shinobi World War and Danzo’s manipulative whispers. But was he already well on that path? Could something be done to steer him away?
Could Kakashi?
To be perfectly honest, Kakashi didn’t want to dwell too much on that idea, but he needed to. He knew what was to come. Akatsuki, Obito, the Ten-tails, Zetsu, Madara, Kaguya. Everything hinged on Obito falling into Madara’s grasp, and the Ame orphans experiencing such loss that drove them into the darkest pits of Hell before Naruto pulled them out. If Kakashi can prevent that from happening, he might even be able to tilt things so far out of axis that Zetsu – and if possible, Madara too – would perish before Kaguya had a chance of being released.
To do that, he would need to be strong, and have a lot of able individuals on his side. Influential, powerful, and trustworthy allies.
Where to start?
From Orochimaru, was his best answer. A possible enemy he would have access to without question. He was plenty powerful, and extremely clever. If Kakashi can drop hints here and there, entice the Sannin’s curiosity and let him draw conclusions based on evidence…
An enemy deterred is a potential ally gained…
But the real question was: should he eliminate this potential threat before it could bite back, or try shackling it firmly at his side?
Elimination would be easier given his current relation to the target. Orochimaru would hardly suspect his child of harbouring the intention to murder him, and Kakashi’s vast knowledge of the shinobi arts was an advantage. If he could train up his body adequately, then use the element of surprise at the right place and the right time...
One strike was all he needed.
And lots of fire to burn the body.
On the other hand, the second option was more risky, relying on luck and emotional connections rather than pure strategic planning. It was a choice that didn’t really sit well with Kakashi. However, the merits of pulling this second plan of action off was pretty beneficial too. Orochimaru’s research and brains – when not used for nefarious purposes – was damn helpful.
With a tiny groan, Kakashi let himself fall backwards onto the soft mattress below. Dammit all, he has to do this, didn’t he? Try changing things for the better? Try to save Sakumo and Obito and Rin and Sandaime-sama and Minato-sensei and Jiraiya and Neji and all the other unnecessary lives lost? Was this why he had been given a second chance?
(Or was this punishment? For not being good enough the last time around, for being worse than scum and pushing Obito pass the edge? Because he certainly didn’t earn the right to re-do things, nor deserved it.
His final farewell with Obito did offer him some measure of peace, but guilt accumulated through decades can only be so far appeased.
Kakashi knew clear as day that his experimental jutsu wasn’t the cause of this. It had killed him, yes, but it was merely another raiton he had been fiddling with during his short retirement. There were no space-time mechanics involved, and he wasn’t in possession of the Sharingan anymore. In a world where Gods and Goddesses were all too real, he didn’t rule out the involvement of a higher power.)
In any case, he only wished whoever was responsible for this knew what they were doing. He himself was the last person he would trust to change the future for the better, and with good reason. However, Kakashi wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt if he didn’t at least try his best.
For better or for worse, he supposed.
Maybe this time, with foreknowledge, time to accept this shitshow of a life-shattering event and a plethora of skills to master again, he could fix things.
Oh, who was he kidding.
He was most probably going to screw things up.
Badly.
… …
Half-lidded steel grey eyes bore into indifferent gold, a long silence stretching between them as neither party was willing to yield first. Firm hands under his armpits brought Kakashi up to eye-level with Orochimaru, and the infant had to fight the instinctive shiver that shot up his spine. Mentally acknowledging that no amount of denial would make the Snake-summoner any less his blood parent didn’t mean he was physically ready to meet Orochimaru face to face. Let alone engage in a staring competition.
But Kakashi had always been stubborn and competitive. Adding on his previous life as retired Rokudaime Hokage, Kakashi was by rights older. And damn if he was going to lose this. His pride would accept nothing less than a draw. He vehemently ignored the small part of his brain that called him childish. He was physically a baby now. He can indulge in being petty sometimes.
A pointed cough off to the side caused both of them to blink and turn their heads to the perpetrator in eerie synchrony.
“Orochimaru-kun?” Nori’s quiet voice was tinged with laughter even as she lifted the heavy bag in one hand, extending it to the pale man. “Don’t forget this. Chibi-kun’s necessities are all in here, and the supply should be able to last half a month.”
Orochimaru eyed the bag with faint distaste, as though touching it would infect him with baby-sloppiness. “I assume you have informed the shopkeeper about the change in delivery address?”
This got ‘the look’ from the retired kunoichi. The flat stare that screams ‘extremely unimpressed and mentally slotting you into a category labelled “dung pile”’ despite the emotionless face. The one that Kakashi really wanted to learn because Sage, when Orochimaru had that look on in his previous life, it made lesser shinobi cry.
When the pale Sannin made no move to adjust his grip on the baby in order to retrieve the bag, Nori sighed in exasperation. “Kid, stop being difficult. The sooner you get back home with Chibi-kun and put him to bed, the sooner you’ll have time to yourself, however short it may be.”
Without further ado, Kakashi found himself lifted into the kunoichi’s arms, watching in mild hilarity as the bag was tossed in his father’s face. Or was it mother? The last he remembered, Tsunade was still debating if Orochimaru was the mother or father. Kakashi himself had yet to discover if he was a test-tube baby. This required more investigation.
There was a puff of smoke and a large serpent emerged. A couple of instructions from the summoner had it coiling around the bag and disappearing.
Nori stepped forward, dumping him back on Orochimaru, swiftly manipulating the surprisingly docile Sannin’s hands into a position she deemed good. Kakashi ended up with the right side of his face smooshed against the flak vest, one chubby hand gripping the thick collar. The arms around him were unnaturally stiff and awkward.
As soon as the woman moved away, Kakashi removed himself as far as physically possible from Orochimaru without falling to the floor, the grimace on his face mirrored by his parent.
Nori snorted in amusement, flicking an impatient hand at the pair. “Get out before I throw you out. Unlike you, I can’t stand on my feet all day.”
With another downward twist of his lips, the pale man relented, heading out the door without a second word. The cold, blemishless skin making contact with whatever small patches of Kakashi’s legs and arms left uncovered allowed him to feel the trickle of chakra building up to be used. However, before he could brace himself for whatever jutsu would be released, the chakra flow froze.
Puzzled, Kakashi glanced up, only to find Orochimaru’s contemplative gaze on him. Blank-faced, the infant blinked slowly, waiting for the other to continue.
Orochimaru dug around in his vest’s pocket and pulled out a small, thin notebook, which was flicked open immediately.
“Hmm…it says that the aftereffects of shunshin can be distressful to a child below the age of two.” The Sannin’s head tilted to the side. “How did sensei know that? Never mind, I’ll take his word for it.”
The notebook was tucked away, and Orochimaru’s arm tightened a little around Kakashi even as he continued to murmur. “You should hold on tight, and perhaps close your eyes. Travelling this way might be equally disorientating for you.”
At this, Kakashi couldn’t help but lift his head again to pin his current parent with disbelieving eyes. Bad at social interaction and childcare the former Rokudaime may be, but even he knew a normal five-to-six-months-old baby wouldn’t have understood a smidgen of what came out of Orochimaru’s mouth. If Kakashi was in the Snake’s shoes, he would’ve simply tucked the baby close and do whatever it was he planned to do. What’s the use of talking when the other party lacked the comprehension ability?
Huh, was Orochimaru actually hoping for a little genius of his own?
Before another staring contest could commence in front of Nori’s apartment, Kakashi huffed and shuffled closer, tightening his grip as much as his hands allowed, mentally grumbling all the while. It seemed Orochimaru only learned how to take proper care of a child in his sixties.
Well, at least it was Kakashi being subjected to this instead of another poor soul.
A leap or two later had the surroundings dissolving into a blur of colours as the Sannin utilised the rooftops and his considerable speed to avoid unnecessary scrutiny. In the eyes of the most folks, one didn’t put Orochimaru and baby in the same sentence and expected the world to keep turning, after all.
Safely in the arms of his parent, Kakashi closed his eyes and allowed exhilaration to fill him as his tiny heart sped up. Oh, how he missed the freedom of zipping over the earth, quick like lightning streaking through the sky. The harsh beat of wind on skin, roaring in his ears, relying more on other senses than unenhanced sight to navigate.
The former Hatake had always favoured speed over brute strength, and it showed in his combat style.
There was just something so satisfying in being able to run circles around people and watch as they flailed around like a fool trying to pin you down. A pity that his poor stamina meant he had to go straight for the kill as swiftly as possible.
All too soon, they landed in a small clearing quite a distance from the village’s central hub. At first glance, it seemed like another out-of-the-way training ground, but when Orochimaru made his way forward, Kakashi could feel the ebb and flow of his chakra as multiple traps were disarmed simultaneously.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he twisted his body as much as he could to take in the scene before him. After a fair bit of insistent wriggling and a foot to the side of his ribs, a disgruntled Orochimaru shifted his grip so Kakashi’s back was half-resting against his chest.
To be honest, it wasn’t anything special. Just a small typical, traditional abode tucking away in the edges of the clearing, huge oak trees nearly obscuring it from view. To the right of the house was a small garden with neat rows of fruit and vegetable crops. On the other side of the clearing, Kakashi could pick out a couple of training dummies and a smattering of targets stuck at strange angles if he squinted.
Giving the entire area one more scrutinizing look-over, the now-infant felt an inkling of doubt creeping into his mind. Was this Orochimaru’s home? It was so…domestic. It made the Snake seem…normal. Well, as normal as the Snake could get, anyway.
A small, distant part of him clung fervently to the paranoid veteran mindset, half expecting the entire scene to be a genjutsu, waiting for something to screw up and ruin this peaceful atmosphere.
That thought died as soon as Orochimaru deactivated the seals lining the entrance, slipped off his sandals and stepped into the house with nary a whisper. Soft hisses sounded as the large serpent tasked with carrying child-care supplies slithered pass its summoner and disappeared through another shoji door.
The silence was eventually broken when the Snake Sanin set Kakashi down on a tatami table, then sank gracefully into a crouch, putting parent and child at approximately eye-level.
“Chibi…” The single word was murmured, tone almost thoughtful.
Kakashi blinked lazily, plastering on the flattest, most unimpressed look he could muster at the tender age of five months and three weeks. That had better not be his actual name or he was going to give Orochimaru hell by screaming his lungs out every time the man even thought about sleeping. He was damn sure with enough tries, he could hit the perfect pitch to make a man’s ears bleed.
Perhaps his non-verbal disdain was properly conveyed, for Orochimaru tilted his head slightly to the side and hummed. “Hmm…Ichirou.”
That suggestion was met with a glare. ‘First son’ was no better!
A blink and another long stare. “Edaha.”
Reaching out slowly, Kakashi clumsily grabbed a few strands of long, dark hair and tugged as hard as he could, glare unchanging. ‘Leaves and branches’. Really. Really? That's the best a genius like you can do?
Annoyance leaked into Orochimaru’s eyes as the adult jerkily removed his hair from the infant’s grasp. “I should just let the Toad-idiot’s petname for you stick.”
Kakashi promptly yanked on the free-flowing hair again, extremely unamused.
“Kin.”
A scowl this time.
“Kyou.”
The infant sighed. This would take quite a lot longer than anticipated.