Chapter Text
Four years ago, the final vestiges of whatever remained of his family were killed.
Three years and eleven months ago, he had slipped on his mask and become Hound.
Loyalty to the village.
Another S-Rank. (Red, all he sees on his hands are red.)
Anything to keep Konoha safe.
Assassinations. Information dealings. Seduction missions. (He is fourteen, fifteen and then sixteen. It does not matter. With the mask on, his age is of no consequence.)
Keep it safe, safe for their kid.
How long has it been since he became Hound? How long has it been since he had stepped foot inside Konoha for anything but a mission report?
You should know better, do better, follow orders—
The rain poured down mercilessly. It is October 10th, exactly four years and sixteen hours since he was left all alone.
…That is not true.
He blinks beneath his mask. The rain does not touch his face, his masks too impenetrable for that.
And yet that thought had snuck in. He sighs. It had been quite some time since that voice had dictated his thoughts.
He bows down to the graves once more. At almost the end of the day, with most of the village out celebrating the Fox Festival, already having done their mourning in the early hours of morning, guarantees that he is the only living soul present at the site.
Gingerly, he places down a kiku¹ on each of their graves. Bends slightly more to press his fingers against the headstone. He does not apologize, because he is approximately four years and a couple hours too late for that.
He straightens up with a start. He is not alone here anymore. He quickly shunshins his way into the nearest tree to observe exactly who it was that managed to sneak up so close to him without alerting him.
The first thing he sees is a shock of blonde hair that is too familiar, despite the years that have passed. The second thing he sees is that the body is limping, blood that he can just barely see, on a body that is so small (was he ever that small? Was Hound ever allowed to be that small?)
Big, blue eyes scan the area. It takes those eyes the span of four heartbeats to look in the direction of the tree that Hound was hidden in, which should not be possible because Hound is ANBU, he is the ANBU Captain—
(Sensei always did have a knack of finding him, regardless of how well thought-out his hiding places were.)
The child limps his way towards the trees, and sits down three trees to the left of where Hound was positioned.
“Mask-san, you won’t chase me away too right?” asks a voice that once more, Hound reminds himself, sounds so young, with a tone so pained.
Hound says nothing. He is loyal to Konoha, to the ANBU, to the Hokage.
The boy curls in on himself. There are scratches on his knees down to his calves. His clothes appear dusty, like he rolled on the road and decided to be a broom.
“They were worse today, ya know? Usually the aunties and uncles refuse to sell me things—sometimes they’re kind and even give me some leftover goods! They’re usually too soft and- and too sweet but Jiji told me to be re-source-ful, and I am, believe it!”
The almost-smile on the child's face doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Tears pool at the edges of his eyes, but he valiantly lets them not fall. “They— I don’t know why but they chased me! At first I thought the other kids wanted to play tag with me but then some mean grown-ups joined in and it was a seven versus one! So unfair, ya know?”
There was an infliction to his voice that told Hound that he was pretending that it was all okay and that made him feel—
Once you are Hound, you are not allowed to feel. That is the protection, the grace offered by this mask.
“Can’t even go back to my apartment, ya know. There’s prolly those weird guys—Cat-san told me they’re called chuunin—waiting to sabotage my door an’ stuff,” said the boy, voice becoming watery.
Hound’s mind blanked. My apartment. The kid is four, his brain supplied usefully. Eating rotting groceries, being chased by chuunin double his size and living on his own, by the looks of it. By the Sage, how long had Hound, how long had Kakashi been gone if the Sandaime and his council thought they could get away with this?
Sandaime. Not Hokage.
No, the title of Hokage is not what Hound is loyal to. Hound is loyal to Konoha.
Well, then Hound has to die a little.
Such a simple decision, when it came down to it.
The Hatake Clan was one of the most respected clans in Kuni, the Land of Iron. They had no dojutsu of their own to speak of, but their blood was shaped by the blessing of the Raiju, and lightning was contained in their veins. When time came, they aided Konoha as one of her strongest allies and fiercest soldiers. They were given land, titles and the honour they deserved, and they took it with all the grace of a wild wolf and swore loyalty like a dog.
Hound’s mask came off, sealed away in the scroll by his hip. One layer off. That should be enough, for now.
He slipped down next to the boy, who looked up at him in shock but not in fear. The mask covering half his face, and his hitai-ate covering his eye probably didn’t help comfort the child, and yet he did not look spooked. He felt blazing-sunlight-wind chakra gently prod against his own, and almost flinched, but didn't. He reached back, lightning-white-river chakra enveloping the child's. Gods, he was barely four and already had such a strong chakra sense, it was almost baffling if he didn't know who the child hailed from.
Slowly, with his palms out, he lowered himself next to the boy. He knew nothing of children, all his knowledge having come from trying to pass time on bodyguard duty by eavesdropping on Kushina, as she read out parenting books to the child in her belly. Still, he gently rested his palm on the boy’s head.
Not even two heartbeats later, he had an armful of the child, who was holding on too tight with strength that his body did not have, heaving with sobs.
Probably because of, y’know, the lack of food? (Shut up, shut up.)
Loyalty was what kept him alive so long. What kept him alive when he was eight, shaking at the bloody sight in front of him, when warm arms and the shock of golden hair swept him away from that gruesome scene.
Loyalty to Konoha is what broke Hatake Sakumo, what nearly broke Hound, almost too late to pick up the pieces.
Loyalty to his Hokage did not break him. Not once. His own negligence may have cracked his mask but never his Sensei.
Hound was loyal to Konoha. Hatake Kakashi decides that he will be loyal to his Hokage, and the final mission the man entrusted to him.
His other arm slowly comes up to hold the child, to hold Naruto, almost too gently.
“I’m sorry,” says Kakashi, voice nearly hoarse from disuse. “I should have been here sooner. I will make it up to you.”
Hatake Kakashi has always been a loyal dog.