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Chapter Text

Sunlight fell though the leaves of the bamboo forest, cutting panes of light into the dissipating morning fog. Everything was a faint, uniform green.

Kakashi carefully guided his horse under the drooping bamboo leaves. Stray stalks slid across his grey silk robes, catching on his father’s tanto sheathed at his back and trying to knock the bow laid across his lap. The only thing that kept the bamboo out of his eyes was a hat made of the same material, and the veil that fell from around its wide brim to hide his face.

Ahead of him rode his father’s old advisor. The old man sat stiff and upright in his saddle, bow and spear balanced neatly across his lap.

Kakashi eyed his back. “Are we there yet?”

“No,” came the curt response.

He tipped his head back in annoyance. “Are we there yet?” he complained.

“No.”

“Are we there-”

The old advisor stopped his horse with a sigh, then turned.

“Patience, young prince,” Lord Danzo said.

Kakashi flopped backwards in his saddle. This was so boring. They had been riding non-stop for hours. The further they traveled from the Hatake manor, the longer it would take to get back. All he wanted to do was go home and read his books in peace. Danzo had banned him from bringing any with him on the journey, claiming that this was a very serious hunt that would require all of his attention.

“Are you sure you didn’t make it up?” he settled for snarking at Danzo’s back, “Old age certainly does that to people.”

The old advisor just simply urged his horse forward once more. “The white wolf is an omen of great evil,” he said gravely. “The last time it had appeared, civilians and hunting parties alike were slaughtered in its wake. We must take all reported sightings seriously. It is a danger to us and our people.”

Danzo cast one last backwards glance at him. His eyes were no more than two drooping folds of skin on his wrinkled face. “And need I remind you, the last time the white wolf appeared, your father had vanished.”

They had found his body at the bottom of a cliff days later, torn and bloodied.

“It is almost your thirteenth birthday,” Lord Danzo continued, “Soon, you will ascend the throne as king. Have a sense of duty to your people.”

It’s not like I want to be king, Kakashi wanted to say, but he’d gotten enough lectures from the old man about responsibility and duty and birthright- you are lucky to have been born into power while others have had to fight for it- that he knew to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he just hunched over his saddle and nudged his horse forward. On the ground, his hunting dogs wove swift and sleek around its legs.

They rode in silence for a while longer before he pipped up again.

“If the white wolf killed my father,” Kakashi began, tipping his head back in thought, “then should I really be out here hunting it?” His last words came out as a sarcastic drawl. “All you’ve done is made me the perfect target.”

Lord Danzo stopped his horse again. “Very well. That’s far enough.”

Kakashi stopped as well. “What’s far enough?”

The old man turned his horse about so that he could face him directly this time. “They don’t call you a genius for nothing, do they?” 

Kakashi felt a growing sense of unease. There was something threatening about how the old man sat so impassively on his horse. Usually he would have scolded him by now. Kakashi drew himself upright, putting on the most commanding tone he could despite his years. “Answer me, Danzo. What’s going on?”

The old man sighed. It was more of a sigh of resignation than exasperation. “You were always such a brat.” With his good hand, he began slowly undoing the wrappings that kept his other arm in a sling. “This is why this must be done.”

His eyes finally slid open, pinning Kakashi in place with his gaze. The last of his wrappings fell away. With both hands now, he made a series of strange signs.

Kakashi felt his hair suddenly stand on end. The air grew charged like just before a storm. His hands flew to draw his bow, but it was too late.

A bolt of lightning as brilliant as the blade of his father’s tanto raced down from the heavens and struck him with an explosion of light. With a cry, he fell from his horse, his body convulsing uncontrollably. He hit the ground with a thump!, knocking his hat from his head. His clothes suddenly felt too tight, like he was smothered in rolls and rolls of fabric.

Something wasn’t right. He squirmed in his pile of robes, finally breaking free with a sound of tearing cloth. His entire body felt like it had been lit on fire, fingers of electricity rushing through his flesh and bones, buzzing in his teeth. 

Kakashi managed to stagger to his feet. He was on all fours, the ground was far too close. Scents invaded his nose- the acrid bite of ozone, the stink of dog, leaves, water, bamboo, the stench of burning fur-

A shadow fell over him. Kakashi looked up, only to meet the sight of Lord Danzo astride upon his horse, a spear gripped tightly in his hands. In the depths of his cold eyes, he saw the reflection of a vaguely canine shape huddled against the ground like a cornered animal.

Danzo curled his lip in disdain. “The white wolf.”

In that instant, Kakashi realized what had happened to his father.

The advisor lunged at him, his spear aimed at his neck. Kakashi jerked away at the last second, feeling the point catch him down his face instead. His left field of vision went dark. Blood wetted his fur. He shot off across the ground blindly. 

“After him!”

His ears twitched on their own. He heard the creak of a bow being drawn, then the telltale whistle of an arrow through the air. Instinctively, he feinted to the side, and a shaft of pain speared itself though his shoulder instead of his heart. Then his own hounds were after him as he plunged through the undergrowth, barking their heads off.

Stop, heel! he tried to call out to them, but the only sound that fell from his strange jaws was a whine. His dogs only barked louder, spurred on by that alluring scent of wolf.

His heart pounded rapidly in his chest. Each flying leap he took sent fire shooting through his body. He was going to die. He was going to die to his own dogs like prey.

Better own my dogs than Danzo, Kakashi thought bitterly. The adults had branded him a child genius, a prodigy, and yet he was too slow to piece together the plot of his own murder. He could hear the traitorous advisor crashing through the forest behind him on horseback, slower than his hunting dogs but still on his tail. Danzo had killed his father. Now he was trying to kill Kakashi.

He would not die here. He wasn’t an animal, doomed to the instincts of predator and prey, not yet. He still had his wits about him.

Water. Water made him hard to track. Kakashi had trained his pack himself, he knew their strengths and weaknesses. His nose twitched and caught the scent of wetness. He dug his claws into the ground and pushed off, putting on a burst of speed now that he had a plan. Over the barking of his dogs, his ears caught the roar of water over stones.

Kakashi burst onto the rocky riverbank with his dogs hot on his tail. Before him, the river churned white and frothy with the runoff of distant mountains. Without hesitation, he barreled headlong into it, wincing as the freezing waters instantly numbed his wounds. The current slammed into his side, threatening to sweep him off his feet, but he thrust out his limbs and pushed his way through, surprised by the power in this wiry body.

He fought his way to the opposite bank and dragged his abused body onto the rocks, made infinitely heavier by his sodden fur. For a moment, he stopped to catch his breath. A thought made him turn. 

The current had been strong, strong enough to easily sweep one of his smaller dogs, maybe Pakkun or Biskue, away. He forced himself to face the opposite bank, even if it would cost him precious seconds of his escape.

To his relief, the pack had stopped at the edge of the river, mirroring him with panting flanks and lolling tongues. Because he was still a tender youth with a big heart, he had trained them to give up a quarry if chasing meant putting their own lives at risk.

For a brief moment, warmth surged in his chest.

Then Lord Danzo emerged from the treeline behind them.

Kakashi turned tail, and fled.

After that, everything got a bit hazy. He ran and ran and ran until he put the river far behind him, until the barking of his own dogs faded off into the distance, until he couldn’t even catch a scent of home.

The adrenaline in his veins faded, and with it, his strength. He finally slowed. His head pounded, each step he took felt like agony. His eye and shoulder continued to bleed sluggishly until blood caked his fur. But still he trudged on, all the pain and disorientation at his sudden change in form making it impossible for him to grasp at rational thought.

The sun began to set in the sky, staining the clouds orange, then red, then grey. Night set in like a heavy blanket.

He remembered dazedly finding warm squares of light in the darkness, and following them to where a small dirt road ran between dark blurs of buildings. He must’ve been making more noise than he’d thought, because a door had opened, throwing an orange rectangle of light over him like a net.

“Wolf! Wolf!” a silhouette in the doorway pointed and screamed.

And then there were angry shouts and thundering footsteps, long sticks and steel flashing in the torchlight. He plunged through the undergrowth in a wild frenzy, trusting his nose to guide him when his vision could not. The world blurred around him, lost to fear and pain, ragged breaths echoing in his ears with the pounding of his heart.

Eventually he realized he’d run so far that the night was silent once more. There was a calmness to the air and a wetness that spoke of shadowy places and water. He had stopped in a small clearing hidden by a bamboo thicket.

The shape of the wolf fit him quite well, Kakashi thought. When beaten and bloodied and lost without all hope in the world, all he had wanted to do was to drag his half-dead carcass some place hidden and die alone. He curled himself up in a small hollow formed by the weeping bamboo, too tired to lick his wounds, and let his remaining eye fall shut.

If the night took him, so be it.

Chapter Text

The dawn came with grey light.

Kakashi cracked his eye open, his senses suddenly alert.

At first, the reason for his awakening was not apparent. The clearing was bathed with an even, grey light that spoke of a cloudy sky. It must have been morning.

His body hurt. There was a steady pounding in his head, right behind his mangled left eye. Overnight, it had swollen shut with dried blood and pus. He couldn’t even open it if he dared. His shoulder wound was in a similar state. In his panic yesterday, he had failed to notice that there was still an entire arrow sticking out of it. Thankfully, it had stopped bleeding, but his fur was now caked with dried blood. He turned his head, sending it cracking off in flakes, and tried to listen for what had startled him awake.

A quiet crack! came from edge of the clearing.

Kakashi tensed.

The stalks of bamboo quivered, revealing the tip of a foot, and then a leg.

A young boy slipped into the clearing.

The youth walked like he was a creature of the forest himself, his bare feet gliding softly over the fallen bamboo leaves. His skin was tan and his dark hair was pulled back into a small ponytail. He looked just a bit younger than Kakashi, with soft and rounded features save for a scar across the bridge of his nose. The short blue yukata he wore was a splash of color against the pale green of the bamboo forest. In one hand he clutched an woven basket, and in the other, a small hand trowel.

From his den hidden in the bamboo leaves, Kakashi watched the boy root around the base of the bamboo thicket, digging up tender shoots that went into his basket. He was still blissfully unaware of the danger lurking just across the clearing from him.

Kakashi remained silent and still in the shadows, hardly daring to breathe. He prayed the boy would finish his digging and leave without ever discovering his presence. If he did, Kakashi didn’t think he would have the strength to run, let alone defend himself.

The rustling in front of him stopped. Kakashi stiffened. The boy had paused, caught between dropping a shoot into his basket. A pair of wide brown eyes stared directly at him through the stalks of bamboo. The boy let out a gasp.

Kakashi felt himself twitch violently, a failed attempt to leap to his feet. His limbs were too heavy. He pitched forwards onto his chin.

The boy’s face contorted in fear. He swung his trowel out in front of him, holding it with both hands.

It was not a hand trowel, Kakashi realized, but rather, a kunai. Its heavy blade was chipped and pocketed, too blunt to cut like a tanto or a katana, but it still possessed a point fierce enough to gouge through rock. It was a strange tool, only ever used by the commoner shinobi that had served his father.

The tip of the kunai began to tremble violently. There was a terrifying flicker of recognition in the boy’s eyes. “The white wolf! You- you killed my parents!”

Another thing that he did not do, yet was blamed for.

My father killed your parents, Kakashi thought at him instead. An equal exchange of sorts. Two orphans, staring at each other across a clearing.

The boy took a halting step forward, the dried leaves crunching softly underfoot.

Kakashi shifted uneasily, but didn’t move.

Emboldened, the boy advanced on him, kunai held out defensively. His face was twisted in a fierce scowl that contorted that vicious scar across his nose. Soon, he was looming over him, so close that Kakashi could see a flicker of white in his eyes. The same reflection of himself that he had seen in Danzo’s eyes right before the advisor had stabbed him.

Instinct took over. Kakashi flattened his ears and bared his teeth, a wordless threat. He still did not make a sound. He wouldn’t let himself. To give in and make the sounds of a wounded animal meant that he was no more than just that- a beast. He was human, he would remain a person to the very end.

The boy paused. His eyes fell to his blood-soaked fur and the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. For a moment, his fierce expression faltered, replaced by something akin to pity. Then an instant later it was up again, now lined with determination.

“I- I ought to put you out of your misery!”

It sounded like an excuse. That, despite the boy believing that he would be avenging the death of his parents, he still desperately searched for a reason to end Kakashi’s sorry life. A reason that, in some way, would offer a sort of kindness to him.

The boy tightened his grip on his weapon. “I’m sorry, it’s probably for the best,” he said, still sounding entirely unconvinced. He dropped into a crouch. They were eye-level now.

Lost of all else to do, Kakashi just bared his teeth even fiercer and flattened his ears all the way down to his skull.

“Sorry.” The boy lifted the kunai over him, preparing to plunge it into his heart. The point still quivered in his hands. “I’m really sorry.”

The blade began to descend.

Kakashi sighed and lowered his head. This wouldn’t be the worst way to go out. Better at the hands of this peasant boy than at the hands of Danzo. He wouldn’t give the advisor the satisfaction of killing him. It was a small kindness.

The kunai froze midair. The boy peered down at him. “Did you just… nod at me?”

He slowly lifted his single eye to him and… nodded again.

The kunai slipped from his fingers with a gasp. “You can understand me?”

Nod.

The boy scrambled backwards, hands rising to his mouth in horror. “What am I doing!?” He dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead into the dirt. “Please forgive me! I realize I was mistaken!” When he looked back up at him, his eyes were wide and there was a smudge of dirt on his forehead. “You’re not the white wolf. You’re… younger, not even fully-grown yet.”

It was true. He still had gangly limbs and a sleekness to him that would give way to the powerful muscles and broad shoulders of the wild wolves he’d seen in his forests. That is, if he remained stuck in this form for that long.

That is, if he managed to survive for that long.

“Are you a kami?” the boy asked, still kneeling.

Kakashi shook his head.

“Yokai?”

He shook his head again.

“Are you a person?”

Finally, he nodded his head vigorously at that. That is, as vigorously as he dared before his vision could start swimming.

A look of pity crossed his face. He bit his lip. The boy stepped forward, one hand outstretched as if to reach out of him. “Then what… what happened to you?”

When Kakashi just stared blankly at him, he realized, “Oh, yes or no questions only.”

Nod.

“A person…” he repeated in wonder. “Are you a boy?”

Nod.

“A boy like me?”

He nodded vigorously.

The boy’s brows furrowed. “Then… you got turned into a wolf?”

Nod. This boy picked things up quick.

“How?” His eyes lit up. “Oh! I know! Once upon a time you were a super spoiled prince who angered an old lady that was actually a really powerful sorceress and then she cursed you in vengeance!”

Kakashi gave a hesitant nod to that. He was… shockingly correct about certain things, though he had clearly let his imagination run wild.

The boy clapped his hands in glee. “Do you know how to break the curse?”

He paused, and then shrugged.

“It’s okay, I can help with that! There’s a wise woman in the village.” The boy cupped a hand around his mouth, as if divulging a secret. “They say she’s a sage.”

Now this was the best news he’d heard since the start of this entire debacle.

“And…” The boy’s eyes fell to his wounds. “I can help you with that too, if you let me.”

Kakashi raised his singular eye to him and pinned him in place with his gaze. The two of them held eye contact for a long moment, before the boy abruptly looked away. He put up his palms. “It’s- it’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

Kakashi managed to raise a brow in whatever the wolfy equivalent of that was.

“Not anymore, I mean. I promise.” The boy picked up his kunai and tucked it away into the folds of his yukata. With empty hands, he beseeched him again. “I only want to help you. I’ve only ever wanted to help you. Please, believe me.”

Kakashi regarded him for a long moment. They only had one pair of opposable thumbs between the two of them, and unfortunately they did not belong to Kakashi. He sighed, and let him approach.

The boy shuffled up to him hesitantly, then stopped and crouched down to his level. It was reminiscent of how he had approached him earlier with his kunai, but this time, he slowly reached out a hand. When Kakashi just stared at him in confusion, he turned his palm over and patted his head.

“See, it’s okay,” the boy murmured to him. He continued to pat his head, then got bold enough to ruffle the fur around his neck. “Goooood boy. Gooood wolfie. Please don’t bite me.”

Kakashi lifted a corner of his mouth to show him his teeth. I’m not a dog.

The boy withdrew his hand. “Sorry. I’m going to lift you up now, okay?” He waited for his answering nod before shuffling closer. 

Kakashi let the boy gather up both of his front legs into one hand. He was longer than the boy was tall, but the boy still managed to carefully slide him onto his back by pulling his front legs over one shoulder, then his hindlegs over the other, so that he hung around his neck like some giant, fluffy scarf. With Kakashi secured on his back, the boy planted his feet under himself in a wide stance and rose by slowly straightening his knees. 

“Oof! You’re heavy!” He puffed his cheeks out in exertion. He stooped down momentarily to loop his basket around one arm, then grabbed ahold of Kakashi’s dangling legs on either side. It was like how one would carry a newborn lamb. 

“Comfy back there?” the boy turned to ask him with a grin.

Kakashi gave him an answering huff. The whole affair had painfully jostled the arrow in his shoulder, but he did not make that known.

“Great!” The boy took a few wobbling steps at first, and then seemingly finding his stride, he began comfortably trekking through the bamboo forest despite his heavy burden. “Just hang in here, Wolf-san! You’ll be better before you know it!”

Wolf-san? Ordinarily Kakashi would have scoffed at someone for daring to address him with such a lowly title, but now, it was too kind.

He let his body fall limp as the boy walked. What little energy he had mustered up earlier was rapidly evaporating. The cadence of the boy’s footsteps faded into the background until it became a calming motion, rocking him back and forth. He tried to fight the heavy blanket of sleep, but his eye just grew heavier and heavier. The last thought he had before he drifted off again was that he would be particularly upset if he died on this boy’s back. He knew the youth would surely blame himself for not being able to save him.

Chapter Text

Kakashi dreamt of flashes of white fur and a wolf much, much bigger than he was. The world was a blur of panic and fear. Teeth sank into his skin, claws tore at his neck. He struck out his legs to run, only to find that they couldn’t move, now tangled in the robes his human self had worn.

A flash of pain sent him crashing back into consciousness. Something was wrapped around his neck, keeping him firmly in place. Kakashi jerked his head away and lashed out, his hindlegs kicking something solid. The weight vanished from his neck.

“Ah! It’s me, it’s me!” a young voice cried. “Please stop, Wolf-san, it’s me!”

Kakashi squirmed out of his grasp and tumbled onto the floor. The motion sent his head spinning. Pain shot up his shoulder. He rolled to a stop, panting. When his vision finally stabilized, he saw the boy with the scarred nose kneeling on the forest floor a little whiles away. His sleeves were rolled up and there was a blood-stained rag in his hands. Beside him was an earthen pot set over a small campfire.

The boy put up his palms in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was worried you were going to wake up and bite me!”

Kakashi glanced up at the sun through the tall stalks of bamboo. It was late afternoon, almost early evening.

“You were out cold,” the boy continued earnestly from where he knelt, “I was able to remove the arrowhead and stitch up your shoulder wound without you waking up.”

They were in another small clearing. On one side, a small creek burbled cheerfully as it rounded a bend. On the other side, behind the boy, rose the back of a small, wooden hut. Stones weighed down the thatched roof. It must have been the boy’s dwellings.

The boy held up the torn strip of cloth in his hands. “I’ve just cleaned out your eye.” He dropped the rag into the boiling pot, careful not to scald his fingers. “Whoever attacked you, they gouged out your eye. The whole thing is gone. Sorry.”

Kakashi huffed. That was the least of his worries now. First, he was hungry. Starving. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning when he had left the Hatake manor with Danzo, and that felt like eons ago.

Second, he was dying of thirst. He eyed the river.

The boy caught his look. “If you wait here, I can bring you a bowl-”

He ignored him. The boy had already hauled his sorry ass all the way out here and cleaned all his wounds. He was at least going to do something himself, damn it.

Kakashi struggled to his feet, his hindlegs quaking under him. He felt like one of those small lap dogs kept by the court nobles that yipped and trembled like a leaf.

The boy rose to his feet as well. “Alright, fine, you stubborn creature. At least let me help you to the river.”

Kakashi would not admit it, but if it weren’t for the boy looping his arms around his middle and taking some of the weight off his feet, he would not have made it. He collapsed at the edge of the creek in a tired heap.

The boy threw himself down beside him. “See, what did I tell you?”

Kakashi gave him an eye roll, then focused his attention on the stream. He’d seen his dogs… lick the surface of the water? Use their tongues as spoons? He tried to let instinct take over, but the more he thought about it, the harder it seemed. Finally he gave up and just dunked his entire face into the stream. It was ungainly, it was messy, but it got the job done. He gulped down mouthful after mouthful of water. When he finally resurfaced for air, he turned to find the boy staring at him. He had both hands clamped over his mouth and his cheeks were puffed out in a valiant attempt to stifle his own laughter.

Kakashi just let the corners of his mouth curve upwards until he was smiling back with a very toothy leer.

The boy’s face paled. He dropped his hands.

Kakashi returned to staring at his own reflection in the stream. A very unfamiliar creature stared back at him. It was a very young wolf with sharp, angular features. His nose was long and he had a shaggy ruff of fur around his neck and ears. It also refused to lie flat like his hair. He guessed that some things never really changed. Kakashi turned his head to the right, and the creature did so as well. He turned his head left. The wolf followed. He bared his teeth at his reflection. Those, thankfully, was the same. His family had a very strange bloodline. His father had said they were descended from yokai.

The longer Kakashi looked, the more he realized he wasn’t the white wolf at all. His coat color was actually closer to silver, like his hair had been so prior. He huffed in annoyance.

“Want some?”

A hand shoved something right in front of his nose. He went slightly cross-eyed in an effort to stare at it. It was an onigiri, though the dried seaweed that the rice ball was usually wrapped in had been replaced by a bamboo leaf, as they were nowhere near the coast. Giving Kakashi another considering look, the boy thoughtfully freed the ball of rice from the bamboo leaf because god knows Kakashi wouldn’t have been able to do it himself without proper hands.

“Here.” The boy placed the onigiri in the dip his front legs made laid out on the rock. If Kakashi cupped his hands- paws- whatever, just right, the rice ball could sit between them.

“I figured you wouldn’t let me feed you either,” the boy said snootily.

He was absolutely right in that regard.

The boy sat beside him, humming as he unwrapped his own ball of rice. He kicked his bare feet happily in the shallows. 

Kakashi sniffed at the onigiri, then, turning his head to the side so that his nose wouldn’t get in the way, took a hesitant bite. Flavor exploded on his tongue. This was definitely bland peasant fare, but his newfound senses and hunger made it taste a thousand times better. The rice was soft and sticky, lightly scented with the aromatic bamboo leaves it had been steamed with. The filling was, unsurprisingly, pickled bamboo shoots. That must have been what the boy had been gathering earlier before he had been disturbed by Kakashi’s presence. True to his nature now, he wolfed down the rest of the onigiri in a few short bites. Then he turned his head to the boy, and put on what he hoped was his best puppy dog look. If his hunting dogs would pull it off then, so could he, missing eye or not.

The boy scowled at his puppy eye. “Oh, don’t give me that.” Still, his gaze drifted down at his own half-eaten onigiri. He rubbed at his scar once, twice, then, seemingly having come to a decision, offered it to him with a sigh. Kakashi quickly vanished that one as well.

After eating and drinking, Kakashi felt immensely better. The boy helped him off of his rock and back onto the soft leaf litter of the clearing. He practiced standing on his own while the boy put out his campfire and wrung the boiled rags out in the pot.

As he watched the boy bustle around the clearing, something twitched behind him. Kakashi whipped around to see his tail moving around on its own. Oh, that’s new.

He shot a glance at the boy, who had stopped to watch him with a growing smile on his face, then with as much dignity as possible, carefully tried to clamp his teeth down on his tail.

He missed.

The boy laughed as he turned around and around, trying to catch his tail to stop its wagging. “Aww, that means you’re happy!”

Kakashi finally caught his tail in his teeth and sat down, head and body bent at awkward angles to keep his tail still.

“Still not used to that, huh?” The boy settled on his heels beside him. He propped his chin on a hand, considering. “Do you know how long you’ve been stuck like this for?”

When Kakashi just gave him a deadpan look for asking such an open-ended question, the boy added, “Nod if it’s recent. Say, less than a month.”

He nodded, tail still firmly clamped in his jaws.

“Less than a week?”

Another nod.

“A day?”

He gave him a shrug.

“Okay, a couple of days then. Wow, that really is recent. How are you holding up?”

He gave him a look and tried to gesture with his eyes at the tail in his mouth.

“I see, still adjusting.”

Kakashi nodded, and let his tail fall from his mouth.

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that!” The boy dusted his hands off on his yukata and rose from his crouch. “Oh, I completely forgot!” He stuck out a hand. “I’m Iruka Umino.” His gaze dropped to him. “...though I suppose you wouldn’t be able to tell me your name, even if you wanted to.”

Kakashi huffed. He couldn’t talk, but that didn’t stop him from other forms of communication. Looking around the clearing, he located a stick and grabbed it in his jaws. He jabbed one end into the dirt and began drawing. The action bent his neck at an awkward angle, but it would get the job done. After a few moments of scribbling in the dirt, he sat back to look at his handiwork.

What should have been his name was just a series of scribbles.

Kakashi jerked his head back in a double-take of surprise, then dug his stick into the ground to try again. The second time yielded gibberish as well. And the third. And the fourth. As he huffed and scribbled and slobbered on his stick, a sinking realization settled in.

After his transformation, he had instantly known how to run on all fours, to trust his nose like he had been born with it, but writing was not in the nature of wolves. The very instincts that had saved his life now robbed him of his words.

Iruka watched his frustrated scribbling with careful eyes. He put his hand out. “Here, let me try.”

Kakashi let the boy pry the stick from his mouth. Iruka crouched down on the dirt beside him and began scratching out symbols. Once the ground was covered in a neat grid of characters, he sat back on his heels. “There. Why don’t you point to the kana that make up your name?”

He burst upright, tail wagging. Now this kid was smart. He began picking his way purposefully down the rows, searching for the simple katakana that spelled his name. He stared and stared and stared, yet none of the symbols seemed familiar. Finally, after several rounds of pacing, he sat down on the ground and pawed at his face in defeat.

The curse had also taken his ability to read. He was lucky that he could understand speech.

“Oh.” Iruka settled next to him, having realized the same thing. “I’m really sorry. It must hurt not being able to name yourself. It’s like your identity has been taken away.”

He nodded.

The boy brightened slightly. “It’s okay though! We’ll break your curse and then you can tell me your name yourself!”

That was a nice way to put it.

Iruka glanced up at the sky. The sun had begun to set, streaking the dusky sky pink. “It’s getting late. You still need rest.” He nudged Kakashi with a shoulder and tipped his head in the direction of his small hut. “Why don’t you stay with me tonight? I can take you to see the slug sage tomorrow. She’ll know what to do.”

Chapter Text

Iruka woke bright and early to go fishing in the large river on the other side of the village. His wolf friend was still asleep when he left, curled up on Iruka’s threadbare futon with the blanket tucked around him. Iruka had taken the floor. Wolf-san had clearly needed his bed more than he did.

Prior to leaving his house, Iruka had cut a stick of bamboo to use as a fishing rod and had scrounged about for a few grains of rice to use as bait. His wolf friend couldn’t survive on just rice and bamboo shoots for long. While Iruka was certain he wouldn’t eat him, he still didn’t want his friend to go hungry. His own stomach grumbled at the dinner he had given up last night. It wouldn’t do for both of them to starve.

He whistled as he walked to the edge of the village. Then, more quietly, he slipped through the alleyways and back gardens of the outlying houses, avoiding the main roads. Once the buildings got dense enough, he took his kunai from the folds of his yukata and unraveled the rope wound around its handle. Holding one end of the rope in hand, he gave the pointed end a few good swings like a rope dart and sent the blade sailing up to lodge itself in the stone eaves of a townhouse. He gave the rope a few goods tugs to make sure that the kunai held fast, then kicked his feet into the wall and pulled himself up, hand over hand, onto the roof. From there he continued his way across town, hopping from roof to roof. He didn’t exactly have the best reputation in the village, so it was the best that the villagers didn’t see him as they went about their mornings. It wouldn’t do to bring more attention to himself this time, not when he had someone else depending on him.

Iruka found a nice shaded patch of riverbank just off the main bridge that spanned the river. He shaved two spikes of bamboo off his fishing rod to fashion into a hook, and tied it to one end with a long piece of string. He then spent a good half hour trying to get the fish to bite.

The fish were clever. They just slyly picked away at the rice ball until only the hook remained. Iruka glowered at them as they sat there sunning themselves in the shallows, lazy and fat. He buried his chin in the palm of his hand and bounced his leg rapidly as he thought. Iruka had never been one to sit still. The only reason he had managed to sit long enough to learn his characters was because his parents had told him that a good shinobi needed to know how to read and write in order to pass secret information to the noble lords they served. Even then, it had still been a struggle.

In the end, Iruka dismantled his fishing rod, tied his kunai to the end of the bamboo stick, and used his improvised spear to go spearfishing. That won him one fat carp, but when he tried to repeat the same trick again, the remaining fish simply refused to swim out into the open. Still, he bounded home in high spirits, his fish dangling from the end of his spear like a prize.

Iruka was skirting through a shadowed alleyway, carefully avoiding the center of the village, when he saw the outsiders.

Sunlight glinted off of flashing armor and spears, the proper type tipped with metal and not cobbled together like Iruka’s kunai-and-bamboo combo. They were soldiers, clearly from some local lord. Two of them sat on horses, flanking an old man on another horse. His black robes looked expensive. Ah, that must have been the visiting noble, then.

Iruka briefly entertained the thought of pickpocketing them. They were outsiders, they wouldn’t even know what hit them. Then he glanced at all their pointy weapons, gleaming under the sun, and wisely decided not to try his luck.

Most of the commotion was from the crowd of villagers that had gathered around them. The two soldiers on foot were putting something up on the notice board, drawing great exclamations and clamoring from the crowd. Some of the villagers, the younger ones, let up cheers as the outsiders departed, kicking up a cloud of dust and horses and gleaming iron.

The crowd dispersed slowly after that. Once the coast had been clear for several minutes, Iruka crept over and peered at the notice they had hung up. His heart dropped when he read what was on it. With a few furtive glances over his shoulder, he quickly tore the roll of paper from the board and tucked it away in his yukata.

With that, he resolved to take the long way home.

“Okay, two things,” Iruka said when Kakashi finally woke up. It was midafternoon already, and the cicadas were buzzing in the trees. The pain in his shoulder and left eye had faded to a dull ache. It was hard to pay attention to Iruka, not when he was freshly awake and sleep-mussed. The fur on the right side of his face stuck up in the wrong direction after having laid on it all night and for most of the day.

Iruka held up two fingers and waved them in front of his face to get his attention. “Do you want to good news first, or the bad news?”

Kakashi just nudged his hand aside with his nose. There was something far more pressing at the moment. He snuck his nose into the air and sniffed. The sweet aroma of soy sauce filled the space of Iruka’s small hut, layered with ginger and green onions, all covering a deeper, richer scent suggesting some sort of meat. His stomach growled. That must’ve been what had finally woken him.

Iruka laughed. “Looks like you want the good news first. Here, I’ll get the fish.” He turned to tend the pot hung over the hearth, leaving Kakashi staring after him, head tilted, thinking, that’s the good news?

He startled when Iruka slid a steaming pot under his nose. The fish had been neatly cleaned and gutted, and now sat as tender white chunks in a stew of shoyu, ginger, and green onions. The smell was absolutely heavenly to his wolf’s nose.

“You can take the pot,” Iruka said, “I’ll just use chopsticks.” A quick glance around his small hut confirmed that he had no other dishes or utensils. Iruka snatched away a piece of fish from the pot before Kakashi could dunk his whole head in it. He held the pot’s lid in his other hand, using it like a plate to catch the juices. “Watch out for the bones,” he warned, as he turned and spat the thin spines into the fire.

Kakashi carefully stuck his head into the pot, trying to keep his whiskers away from the ceramic walls. It tasted just as good as it smelled. The fish was delicate and flakey, soft from the soy sauce it had been steamed in. So drawn by the taste of real, human food, Kakashi only moved out of the way to let Iruka pick out more chunks of fish for himself. They sat side by side on the edge of the stone hearth, chewing and spitting fishbones into the fire.

When the pot was emptied, Kakashi sat up and licked the juice from his chops as best as he could. Finally he tilted his head at Iruka, as if to say, And? The bad news?

“Right, the bad news.” Iruka felt around behind him and pulled up a roll of paper. He held it in front of Kakashi’s face. “Look.”

Kakashi stared at it for a long moment. It was complete gibberish to him.

“Right, you can’t read,” Iruka realized. He shook the poster at him. “It says ‘The white wolf, wanted dead, one million ryo award.’”

White wolf, wanted dead, one million ryo. The words echoed over and over in Kakashi’s head. So it seems like the news of his escape had finally reached this small village. To be honest, he didn’t quite know how far it was from the Hatake manor, but he’d hoped that it had been far enough and small enough that he would have a few more days to heal up and figure out what to do next.

Of course Danzo would turn his own people against him, use them to do his dirty work. He turned his eye on Iruka again, suddenly realizing how lucky he was that the boy hadn’t decided to bundle him off while he slept. One million ryo was a hefty sum.

Iruka stared back at him steadily. “I’m not going to sell you out, if that’s what you’re worried about.” There was steel in his voice, as if he dared Kakashi to doubt his true intentions.

Kakashi blinked and looked away. The boy had already had his chance once before, and he hadn’t taken it.

Iruka stood decisively. “We can’t waste anymore time.” He clicked his fingers at him. “C’mon. I’ll take you to the slug sage.”

The slug sage was a beautiful woman with blonde hair and eyes much older than she looked. Like Iruka, her hut stood a little ways away from the village proper, off in the bamboo forest by itself. She took one look at Kakashi and burst into laughter.

“Who did this to him?” she asked while doubled over, clutching her stomach.

Iruka exchanged a look with Kakashi. “He didn’t tell me.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Iruka clenched his fists and in a serious tone said, “Can’t. He can’t talk.”

The slug sage wiped away a nonexistent tear in her eye. “Okay, I’m too sober for this. Boy!” She snapped her fingers. “Sake!”

“Here, my lady.” Iruka reached into his yukata and brought out a small stoppered ceramic bottle. He bowed as he presented it to her.

The sage pinched it between her thumb and pointer finger and regarded it with a critical eye. “Humphf! A bit small, but good enough.” She uncorked the bottle and tipped it all back in one go.

Kakashi gave Iruka The Side Eye. Should she really be drinking that much?

“Shut up, brat,” the slug sage snapped. “Don’t think I can’t see that look you’re giving him.”

Cowed, Kakashi took a shuffling step back against Iruka and discreetly tucked his tail between his legs. Despite the sage’s small stature and apparent dependence on alcohol, everything else about her spoke of unnatural power.

The sage wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her haori and returned the bottle to Iruka. “Alright, c’mere.” She waved Kakashi forward.

When he scooched back towards her again, she made a few quick motions with her hands. It reminded him of what Lord Danzo had done right before he’s gotten struck by lightning and cursed. He let out a soft growl.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” the sage scolded him, then set a palm against his forehead. It glowed green faintly. Her eyes fluttered shut in concentration. Or perhaps it was the alcohol.

“Hmmm. Cursed alright,” she announced, “but it’s an easy one to fix.” Her eyes flickered open. “All you’ll need is true love’s kiss from a prince or princess.”

“A prince or a princess!?” Iruka burst out. “That’s not easy!”

“Humphf, and here I thought you were going to complain about true love instead, everyone always does that.” The slug sage crossed her arms. “It doesn’t exist, by the way.”

“What!?” Iruka protested, his eyes aflame. “Yes it does!”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes it does!”

As the two of them bickered away about the merits of true love, Kakashi lifted one of his front legs and stared at it. True love’s kiss from a prince, eh? Well he was certainly a prince.

Kakashi tried to kiss himself. He planted a very furry, very canine kiss on his foreleg that was more like a cold nose boop.

Nothing happened.

He wasn’t surprised, it was no secret that he didn’t like himself.

“-hey listen, kid,” the slug sage was saying as she studied her red painted nails boredly, “When you reach my age, you’ll realize that all men are trash and are only interested in you for your tits. True love doesn’t exist.”

“Then that’s not a cure!” Iruka shouted back at her, “That’s just false hope!”

The slug sage must have caught the look of desperation in his eyes and her expression softened. She patted him on the head. Iruka ducked and put his arms up to cover his head with a defiant expression.

The slug sage chuckled at that. “Oh, I’m just being sour,” she sighed. “True love does exist, it’s just… rare.” She gave them both a pitying look. “What you really need to worry about, is that this curse has a time limit. When the next full moon rises, he’ll be stuck like that forever.”

“Next full moon.” Iruka thought for a moment. “That’s in about two weeks.” He looked down at Kakashi. “Well, that’s certainly some good news for change!”

He jumped and yipped. He’d take whatever he could get.

The slug sage eyed his very human-like behavior suspiciously. “Are you sure he can’t talk?” she asked Iruka.

“Trust me, my lady, he can’t.” Iruka eyed Kakashi. “If he could, I’m sure he would’ve already made me aware of it. Loudly.” He turned to the slug sage. “So you know he’s a person.”

The slug sage crossed her arms again. “Of course I know. I can tell from his chakra pathways.”

“Then do you know how he got turned into this?” Iruka gestured at Kakashi in all his wolfy glory.

The slug sage sighed and pinched her brow. “You see, his family has yokai blood in their veins. Many great warriors do. All the curse did was to bring that out to the front, peel back the skin a bit to expose the demon inside.” She cast Kakashi with a pitying look now. “You have to remind him of his humanity.”

The last sentence had mostly been directed at Iruka, but Kakashi wasn’t listening anyway. His mind turned over her earlier words. She had known about his yokai blood… that meant that the slug sage knew who he was. She must also know who his father was.

Kakashi interrupted her mid sentence by rearing onto his hindlegs, so that he was sitting on his haunches. He pawed desperately at her robes, a whine escaping his jaws. If she knew who he was, then she needed to help him. She needed to stop Danzo. She had to tell Iruka who he was. She could at least tell Iruka his name.

The slug sage just uncrossed her arms and pointed one finely painted nail at the ground. “No, down. Don’t ruin my clothes, brat.” When Kakashi set all four feet on the ground again, dejected, she raised an eyebrow at him as if to say, what, you really think I’m going to make it that easy for you?

Apparently, this was somehow his problem. That was so unfair! Kakashi grumbled at her and slunk back behind Iruka’s heels to sulk.

“Hey,” Iruka said as he was jostled by his sleek form. “Hey,” he said again, reaching one hand to smooth down the fur on his back as he circled around him. “At least we know how to break the curse now. That’s one thing down.”

Kakashi just sat himself down and rolled his good eye.

Iruka knelt down beside him. “Would you mind also taking a look at his wounds, my lady?” He parted the fur on Kakashi’s shoulder to expose the gash from the arrowhead. Though stitched closed by needle and thread, the edges of the wound were still red and weeping pus. “I tried to patch him up as best as I could.”

The slug sage studied Iruka’s stitches. “Humphf, passable.” She beckoned Kakashi closer with the crook of one finger, and peered into his empty eye socket as well. “Eye’s gone for good, though.” She covered his shoulder wound with one hand, his eye with the other, and sent a burst of green energy from her palms. Her hair and robes momentarily whipped about in an nonexistent wind, before settling back down as her power receded.

“There, I’ve burned out the infection,” the slug sage finally said, satisfied. She rose and dusted her hands off. “Just don’t tear the stitches and you should heal nicely.” Her gaze slipped to Iruka. “But- I could heal him completely if I had a bit more sake…?” Her voice lilted up hopefully.

The boy just shook his head. “I’m sorry my lady, I haven’t anymore sake.”

“Drat!” The sage thrust her fists down at her sides in a shockingly childish action. “Alright then, get outta my hut!”

She shooed them out.