Chapter Text
Yuma shrugs his shoulders, his vest seeming to sit awkwardly despite being the same piece of clothing that he's worn since he became a chūnin. It's a trick of the mind, he knows, a little voice that says he should be wearing the same robes that Hiruzen-sensei wore as headmaster of the Academy.
But he is not the Hokage and the role of headmaster needs no such formality. He does not have to follow in Hiruzen-sensei's footsteps, he can trod his own path, make his own mistakes.
Looking like all the other teachers will make him more approachable to the children, or such is his hope. He will have to rely on his manner to establish his authority, but then he's never had a problem with that.
Yuma watches as the Hokage jumps out of the trees behind the Academy, well away from the path to the gates that the civilian parents use, a little silver haired boy in his arms.
"Tou-chan." The child ducks his head, letting messy hair fall into his eyes. "Do I have to go to school?"
"Oh, Kakashi." The Hokage hugs his son tightly. "I'm afraid so."
This is a familiar scene to Yuma, he's seen it all too many times.
Despite the way that the Academy was one of the first things to be created in the village - a way for the children of the Uchiha and the Senju to get to know each other as early as possible, with as little hatred for each other as possible - the shinobi clans have always educated their own children. To the generations that have been taught within the safety of family and clan, the Academy feels new and strange to many shinobi - parent and child alike - for all that it is now over fifty years old.
The Hatake probably find it even more strange, considering that they haven't even been part of Konoha for a full decade yet.
"Hokage-sama, Kakashi-chan." Yuma approaches the pair, deliberately making noise with his feet to attract their attention and to seem less threatening. "I am Yuma, headmaster of the Academy."
He bows formally, keeping his eyes on theirs, the Hokage's dark friendly ones and the child's lighter but stormier ones. "I promise that Kakashi will be well protected and taught here."
The child pouts a little but squirms out of his father's arms, dropping lightly to the snow covered ground. He lands well, and Yuma feels surprise for all that he doesn't let it show on his face.
The child is talented it seems.
Kakashi, on the other hand, doesn't seem impressed with himself. He casts a look of betrayal at his own feet, sunk deep into the snow, and the Hokage laughs softly.
"Kakashi, this area hasn't been swept clean." A large hand ruffles the boy's windblown hair. "It's mostly used by adult shinobi who can water walk. Why don't you let me carry you?"
"No." A small jaw sets in a stubborn line. "I can do it by myself. I'm not a baby."
The child lifts one foot and puts it down again, feeling it sink ankle deep into the snow, before raising his other foot and repeating the process.
A few steps like this, and the boy is already visibly flagging.
Yuma casts a glance at the Hokage only to find Sakumo-sama smiling at his son with rueful affection. The resemblance between the two could not be clearer, as is the silent request not to force help on the child when it will be rejected.
Yuma paces after the boy, letting his own footsteps crunch as the snow compresses under his sandals, as Kakashi takes a deep breath and begins to shove his feet forward through the snow, forging his own path.
It's a good start to the new year.