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Friend-Killer Kakashi was often likened to an infection. Everyone he touched was bound to die—his mother, his father, his sensei, his teammates. People avoided him, sensing that any efforts to befriend him would end in death. They weren’t wrong.
Things only made sense to Kakashi himself as he stood over the cooling corpse of the only girl that he’d ever allowed close.
Staring down at Rin and the gaping hole where her heart should have been, he realized that this was how things needed to be. She needed to die, just like everyone else he had ever loved. It was only then that he had turned around and annihilated those who would have ended his own life.
Nothing but carnage remained when he was done.
After that day, after Kakashi had no one left to lose, he disappeared into ANBU. He killed others there, and people grew no less afraid. Those who were unlucky enough to be on his team always left him a wide berth, especially when his hands glowed and chirped. There had been a number of unfortunate accidents in the past that had left many an agent dead and gone. The accidents, combined with sudden bouts of unexplained, debilitating illness that seemed to touch everyone except Kakashi, left many of his ANBU comrades weary.
Another man who was deeper in the shadows tried to recruit him, but Kakashi turned his back on the man’s attempts. And when the man still tried and asked that the village’s leader be killed, Kakashi looked at the Professor and acknowledged that it was not yet his time.
The Hokage saw this and assumed he had been spared because of some deep loyalty and was thus warmed by his agent’s actions.
“Would you like to leave the shadows?” the Hokage asked his most loyal. Kakashi shook his head. His work was done best in the dark where he could creep through the world and kill the unsuspecting. He did not need to be in the light to end those whose lives were forfeit. How many lives had he ended already? How many would he continue to snuff out, like flames stolen from candles in the night?
“Very well. But if you should ever desire it, I would let you leave, no questions asked.” The Hokage fell silent for a moment, his pipe releasing a steady curl of sweet tobacco smoke. “Anything but this, Kakashi. Minato would not have wanted this for you.”
Had the Hokage been able to see through the mask on his Kakashi’s face, he would have seen a wicked, self-deprecating smile there. Minato would not have wanted many things. He would have hated Kakashi if he could see him then. But that didn’t matter to him. The opinions of the dead weighed very little in his mind.
“Perhaps one day,” Kakashi said noncommittally. Perhaps one day when they were by his side, purging the world with him, would he bother to exit the darkness. Because they were the only ones who meant anything to him. Maybe they would see something that he had not. Maybe they would see fit to save the wretched world and all who dallied in it.
When people saw Sakura, they immediately thought delicate. Her rosy hair and jewel-toned eyes often glistening with tears left people to assume that she would follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a seamstress. After all, it was as a seamstress that she would stay safe from the true horrors of the world.
Therefore, it was surprising when she stopped crying and opted to go to the Academy to learn the art of death.
Her parents chose to allow her that freedom, foolishly thinking that she would eventually decide that the path of a shinobi was too messy and scary. They brought her to the Academy every morning and picked her up late each afternoon. She didn’t make friends easily, didn’t recount tales of her day with animated excitement but she also never asked to quit. Her parents counted down the days until their daughter would change her mind.
However, therein lied the issue—her parents were unwise to assume that the day would ever come. While Sakura was lonely and didn’t talk about her days all too much, she excelled in her classes. They were so easy—from beginner’s strategy and theory to spars and chakra control—that it soon became clear that she would not be returning to a mundane civilian life.
When the teachers vouched for her and said that she was ready to move up a few classes, the Hokage tried to push back claiming that she was civilian born and therefore not suited for such trials so early on in her life. Her parents did, too, once they understood that their blossom was doing so frighteningly well.
“No,” they begged. “She’s just a child.” But the teachers lobbied for it.
“We have nothing left to teach her,” they said. “She will stagnate if we leave her where she is.”
Reluctantly, the Hokage signed the papers and soon, at the age of six, Sakura was given her headband, only a handful of months after entering the Academy.
When her parents died suddenly two months later, she was quietly shuffled into ANBU where she later vanished without a trace. The Hokage watched on sadly, knowing that once Danzo took a shining to a young pupil, they never returned—at least, never as they had left.
Meanwhile, Sakura only wanted to laugh at how Danzo assumed he could control her. For a time, she let him believe that she was his—in mind, body and soul, like the rest of his soldiers—but she would never be.
When the Uchiha clan was massacred, Sakura took several calming breaths. Danzo thought he could play at being the puppet master. He was foolish and she would teach him the error of his ways.
No one heard the screams that echoed in the chambers beneath Konoha. No one on the surface realized that Root had a new leader. No one noticed the corpse that had been reanimated by powers unknown to ninja, possessed and quiet, sent about to convince the village that everything was as it should be. No one.
Except for one.
“That was fast,” Kakashi said, a well-worn book in his hand as he leaned against the wall of her new office. She grinned at him. The look prompted him to lower his book and regard her for a moment. Coming to some kind of conclusion, he ran a hand down his face in a dramatic fashion. Sakura rolled her eyes.
“Why did you let him live?” she asked, aware that he had once been a failed recruit for the very organization she now ran.
“This has never been my scene. Too dark and spooky—and I’m no boogie man.”
“Right.” She wasn’t impressed by the blatant lie. She made a few notes on a map set out across her desk. On it, the Five Great Nations were highlighted in bright colours, a series of arrows and X’s drawn across various places. “Anyways. Show me what you’ve managed so far.”
Sakura’s own judgment was passed—the world was too horrid to continue its path.
The thing about Sasuke was that he was a genius. However, unlike the pretty pink-haired girl who had come before him, his genius had only begun to shine after his clan was massacred and laws had been passed forbidding early graduation unless during times of war and desperation.
Therefore, he was twelve by the time he’d graduated from the Academy. He was ridiculously talented, more so than some of the teachers were willing to give him credit for—if only out of fear of seeing a copy of his elder brother in him.
Many were surprised when Friend-Killer Kakashi crawled out from the shadows and commanded that the boy become his apprentice.
“So you can get him killed, too?” the worst of them demanded.
Kakashi’s visible eye crinkled. “That should be the least of your fears,” he responded before ushering Sasuke away.
The Hokage watched them closely, but even his wise eyes missed the truth of a matter.
“You both got the easy path,” Sasuke grumbled in their underground hideout, the halls around them guarded by loyal, blank agents. “I had to go to school for the full term. You both graduated after less than a year.”
Sakura smiled, the amusement clear in her eyes. “Danzo was scum that needed dealing with, I’m afraid. And after that absolutely idiotic massacre, I couldn’t wait for the rest of you to wake up. Besides, I’m waiting now. Do you know how many plans I’ve put on hold for you?” Her gaze was steady, but dark. She was unhappy.
Were things truly that far gone in this world?
“Maa, aside from a few people here and there we’ve both been waiting.” Kakashi was in his favourite dark corner, pornography in hand.
“Well, I can’t decide what to do if I spend all my time down here in this rat-infested dump.” Sasuke made a move to leave, but was promptly stopped by Sakura who had appeared in front of him like a spectre.
She eyed him until he stopped his attempts to pass her. “The Hokage will not allow you to just leave Konoha. He assumes you to be an unstable asset that needs to be kept close.” Sasuke scowled. She was right, but like hell he would let someone as insignificant as the Hokage prevent him from doing what he wanted. “To prevent unnecessary attention, go to the missions office and ask for a C-rank. I will ensure that it allows you to leave Konoha.”
The C-rank led both Sasuke and Kakashi to Wave where people watched them with gaunt eyes. Sasuke ignored them and killed both the greedy businessman and his hired muscle. Kakashi watched from behind his novel.
“Filthy rats, the lot of them,” Sasuke grumbled on their way back. “All they do is take and take.”
“And that is why we will end them. But we cannot do so completely until he wakes.”
“Then tell him to hurry up.” As if Kakashi had that much control. Behind them, fields were burnt to cinder, and livestock fell to illness. The civilians whispered amongst themselves as plague and famine worse than before fell upon them.
The end was nigh.
People never realized that despite having a nine-tailed demon sealed in his stomach, Naruto was kind. He was so kind, in fact, that he didn’t fight back even when the world tried again and again to end him. It was after one of these times that he awoke. He had been attacked by his hatred-driven jounin-sensei and left to bleed out, surviving only because he could not die.
“Yo.” Kakashi was leaning against a tree in the darkened woods while Sasuke slinked in the blackness at his side. Sakura was no where to be seen, though it could be assumed that she was deep in the bowels of Konoha orchestrating whatever madness was sure to happen in the coming days.
“Where were you guys?” Naruto demanded, ignoring the wound in his chest, even as it stitched itself together.
Sasuke shrugged, his hands in his pockets. “Busy.”
“Busy doing what?” Naruto asked. He picked up his fallen things—a kunai here and some loose ninja wire over there. Everything was scattered haphazardly in the clearing. It was only when he summoned a host of shadow clones that he realized that the jounin who’d tried to kill him was lying half-conscious on the ground just beyond his line of sight, both of his eyes gouged out. “What’s this?” he demanded. “Kakashi! You can’t just blind people like that!”
Kakashi raised his book, covering the faint amusement in his visible eye. “He deserved it.” He didn’t even pretend to argue his innocence.
“Wha—how do you know that? I mean, sure he didn’t care for me all that much—”
“He actually tried to kill you, idiot,” Sasuke cut in, but Naruto kept talking.
“—but he always helped the elderly cross the road. And he’s rescued, like, twenty kittens from tall trees. And he even paid off a stranger’s tab at that bar in the Silk District when the owner finally had enough. Though I guess the stranger was technically the father of the girl he had a thing for. But the thought was there… Oh! And he always let—”
“The man wanted to kill you, a child he was assigned to protect, just because of something you have no control over. What is that in the scheme of rescuing some cats?” Sasuke had ended up standing over the man where he rolled on the ground, moaning and desperate to relieve some of the pain.
“It’s not like he can kill me.”
“That’s besides the point,” Sasuke said flatly. He looked over at Kakashi. “Do you have nothing to add?”
“Mah, I already said he deserved it. Should I also mention that I don’t regret it?” He looked skyward, tapping his chin. He straightened. “I don’t regret it,” he clarified cheerfully.
Naruto looked between the two of them. Kakashi still hadn’t left his tree, but Sasuke had crouched down, a wisp of flame jumping between his fingertips. “Where’s Sakura? She would side with me.” Naruto looked around dramatically.
“I would not.” Naruto jumped, turning his head to the source of the voice. Sakura stood beside Sasuke, peering down at the injured jounin-sensei. “Why is he still alive? Just put the man out of his misery. Then we can rid this world of the rest of its inhabitants and go home.”
“What, to your sewers?” Sasuke asked. Sakura smacked the back of his head hard enough that he rubbed it afterwards.
“No, you ass. Home.”
“Wait, what? You guys—you guys picked death?” Again, Naruto’s gaze couldn’t settle on any one set of eyes.
Sakura sighed. “Well, why else would you be here? If we hadn’t, you wouldn’t have awoken.”
“But—but—” And Naruto’s next words shock them to their cores.
“—I don’t want to end humanity.”
…oh dear.
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.
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“Just admit it already.”
“Admit what?”
“That I was right.”
“…fine. You were right.”
“Ha! Finally!”
“Shut up, idiot.”