Chapter Text
Kakashi learns very quickly that the so-called child guidance centre is absolutely no place for a child.
It starts with Hitoshi, wide-eyed and horrified, struggling to fall in line with the beaten-down stream of empty-eyed children. They’re forbidden from using their quirks, and are punished harshly for the vaguest implication of quirk usage. Hitoshi isn’t even allowed to talk to their caretakers. He’s forced to hold his tongue from morning until night, and too often, Kakashi will see him hesitating to speak his mind even when there is no one else around.
Kakashi is forced to wear an eyepatch. It’s not like he minds. It’s even a relief sometimes, an old reminder of what he used to have. Painful, yes, sharp jolts of homesickness and guilt stinging against his breastbone, but familiar nonetheless. He takes the fabric in his hands and makes sure Hitoshi can see only his carefree grin as he slides it over his Sharingan.
The other children are wary. The adults, certainly, they’re the ones who have his records after all. They fear the shinobi stuck in the child’s body that radiates a certain danger their minds can’t seem to handle. But the children… They don’t know exactly what happened, but they still pick up on it, acting with quiet hostility in an effort to stay on top. Kakashi can’t blame them – this is a miserable place, and it’s all they can do to get what little they can.
Wait, no. Nevermind. He can blame them after all, because for what reason could they possibly have for picking on his precious brother? Just as they fear Kakashi, they fear Hitoshi as well. It doesn’t make any sense. He may have grown out of his soft fingers and rosy cheeks, but Hitoshi is still the bright and loving boy he’s always known.
Kakashi’s the one with the too-old eyes and ice struck through his heart. He can’t drag Hitoshi down with him.
He tries to turn things around during his therapy sessions. Wearing a mask is easy, the difficult part is picking the right one. Solemn and silent doesn’t seem to be working, so he needs to try something else. They’re intimidated by the serious behaviour and shinobi-style reports so…
He pulls out his best.
“First, why don’t we get to know each other better?” The therapist suggests, head tilted and body language open. “Would you tell me a bit about yourself, Shinsou-kun?”
Kakashi leans back into his chair, one arm draped across the back, and the other propped under his chin. “Maa, why not? I like eggplant miso and dogs. I dislike… people interrupting my reading. My hobbies include peaceful meditation, and my dream is to become a loyal and unassuming citizen of Japan.” He makes sure to throw in a beatific smile, even though it’s hidden beneath his mask.
“I… see,” Chinen-sensei says slowly. “You know, you’re more cheerful than I expected you to be.”
“I’m just revelling in the newfound inner peace that therapy brings,” Kakashi assures her.
She blinks. “We haven’t even started yet.”
“Ah, well best to get an early start, ne?”
Papers rustle as his therapist turns around to bring out some files. He hears her mutter under her breath, “They didn’t say you’d be like this.”
Ah, trolling. How he’s missed it. It just brings so much joy to his cold, dead heart.
She readjusts herself in her seat. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy to be here. Is there anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”
“Anything, hm?” Kakashi taps a finger against his mask in mock thoughtfulness. “There’s not a lot of excitement to be had around here, but I suppose something did happen earlier this morning.”
“Oh?”
“I personally witnessed a bit of a struggle this morning. There was a fight and they were really going at it. I had to pull them apart and give them a stern talking to.”
“A fight?” Chinen’s eyes widen. “That should be reported. Did you tell anyone?”
Kakashi’s mask does a good job at hiding his smile. “Ah, no, no, I had it all under control. It’s hardly my first time handling such things, you know.”
Her face pales. Oops. It would seem that he’d inadvertently reminded her of the actual reason he was here. That hadn’t been his intention.
“You stopped the fight,” she repeats. Her hands are still open, but her tone is slightly more wary than it had been initially. “How exactly did you do that?”
“I just picked them up.” Kakashi says. “They were very small. I named them Naruto and Sasuke.”
“…You named them?”
“They were very cute ants,” Kakashi adds helpfully.
He watches with satisfied glee as several emotions flash across her face. Disbelief, exasperation, regret… Ah, he really has missed this.
“If that’s all,” she finally says, eyes slightly disapproving, “is there any other topic that you think we should talk about?”
“Well, actually…” He draws the word out for as long as he possibly can before shutting her down. “No.”
“Really?”
“If you’re interested, I have a list of trees ranked from best to worst defence against giant fireballs,” Kakashi suggests. It’s actually Tenzou’s list. They’d gone out for drinks after a team mission, and his kouhai had gotten drunk and rambled on and on about it. Kakashi doesn’t even know why he still remembers it.
“Actually,” his therapist interrupts, “I have something I think we should talk about.”
Kakashi shakes his head mournfully. “No one ever wants to hear about the trees.”
She presses on. “I think we should talk about what happened at your school.”
“Ah, that.”
“Yes. That.”
“Well why didn’t you say so earlier?” Kakashi asks lightly. “I’m sure there’s plenty to talk about. Lots of enriching therapeutic material.”
Her lips are pursed now, and she looks down at him sternly. “I hope you’re taking this seriously. These sessions are for your benefit, and they won’t help you if you don’t let them.”
“I’ve never been more serious,” he reassures her, but she doesn’t seem to be convinced.
Chinen sighs. “Can you walk me through your thought process during the incident? What were you thinking about?”
What had he been thinking? In truth, nothing of importance. It had been a simple assessment and an even simpler decision before he’d acted. But that was hardly a civilian sort of thing. Kakashi casts his mind about. What are nice, normal, non-shinobi and non-murderous types of thoughts to be thinking about?
He’d never really interacted with that many civilians. That was normally only reserved for bodyguarding missions, which involved looking after a procession of whiny and over-anxious clients. He isn’t quite sure if he could pull that off.
What else? There was Sakura. Early, genin-days Sakura who lived with civilian parents and hadn’t been fully submerged into shinobi life just yet.
“My thought process…” Kakashi says slowly. “My uniform was completely destroyed. It got stained all over, and I never would have been able to wash it out.” That was a lie. Kakashi’s quite talented at washing blood out of fabric. “But it was ripped too. And uniforms are expensive! Imagine if I had to buy a new one, that would have been at least four books down the drain!”
“Oh. Books.” Her voice is slightly fainter than before. “What, ah, books?”
“Maa, I really shouldn’t say.” Kakashi fans his face and giggles obnoxiously.
A little over the top, maybe, but Kakashi thinks he’s nailing this. Non-shinobi, non-murderous, completely normal, if slightly infuriating civilian persona is a success! For the final touch, he makes a show of widening his eyes. “And of course, afterwards, I took some time to reflect. I have since learned the error of my ways. I understand now that I was wrong to act as I did, being a simple civilian, and that I should have let the heroes handle it to dispose of the villain in safer and more effective ways.”
Kakashi finally looks back up. Chinen-sensei’s face is completely white, and she’s clutching tightly to her papers like he’s about to rip them out of her hands. Her eyes are wide and her muscles are completely locked up.
Ah. Perhaps his innocent civilian act needs a bit of work after all.
–
Everything starts and ends with Hitoshi. After the disastrous but still highly amusing therapy session, things go from bad to worse. It’s not all Kakashi’s fault. Sure people are as intimidated by him as ever, but it’s the other children that are the problem. They get it into their heads that they can blame Hitoshi for stepping out of line, and the next thing they know, their caretakers want to put a muzzle on him.
A muzzle.
And Kakashi, well. Kakashi refuses to stand for it. So they’re getting out of here. He never should have let Hitoshi come at all, but it’s too late now, which means that Kakashi will just have to work with what he has.
So he joins the Yakuza.
Well, doesn’t join exactly, but he does start seeking out any and all opportunities to make money, and working as a surprisingly effective errand boy and info broker does manage to net him some cash. It’s not his fault they’re unprepared for a seven-year-old with excellent stealth skills who knows how to work the underground. He uses it to his advantage. Soon, he’s amassed enough money to buy a tiny, cruddy apartment just off the side of the red-light district.
“I have a surprise for you,” he tells his brother one day. “Bring all your things and follow me.”
Hitoshi looks curious but doesn’t argue, so they pack up their meager amount of shared items side by side in silence. There’s not much – a few uniforms, socks and shoes, a book, a toothbrush. All of it goes onto their backs in their worn and ragged knapsacks.
They sneak out the back corner of the yard behind the shed. Kakashi easily scales the concrete wall, and he’s proud to watch Hitoshi do the same, requiring only a tug of assistance when his strap gets caught.
The drab grey building with its bolted doors and barred windows fades out behind him. He doesn’t spare it a single glance back.
As they continue walking, their surroundings become progressively sketchier. Wide, busy streets transform into narrow alleyways and cracked, dented sidewalks. Groups of narrow-eyed individuals gather on street corners, sending them suspicious glances. Houses transform into rickety apartments with collapsing staircases and heavily graffitied walls.
“Hey!” A man calls, leaning towards them. “What are a pair of kids like you doing out here by yourselves?” He’s a tall, balding individual with a muscled body and spiralling tattoos down his arms. His expression isn’t particularly vicious, but all the same, Kakashi leisurely lifts his shirt sleeve to reveal the curling dragon adorning the thin leather strap around his wrist. A gift from one of his contacts. The man’s eyes widen, and he lets them pass without any further questioning.
Kakashi leads them further in, before stopping at a stout apartment with crumbling foundations and a dusty beige entrance.
“Here we are,” he says cheerfully.
“What?” Hitoshi looks up at the building, then back at him. “What are we doing?”
Kakashi doesn’t answer, but he does step up to the door and give it two sharp knocks.
There’s the sound of purposeful footsteps approaching, and Kakashi backs away from the entrance. The door swings open to reveal an older woman with thinning hair and a pinched face.
“Good, you’re here,” she bites out. “You’re late.”
Kakashi nearly laughs. He’s maybe fifteen minutes late at the very most. That’s nothing. Still, he needs this place, and not many people would rent a room to a pair of seven-year-olds, so it’s maybe best to play nice for now.
“We’d like to see the place,” Kakashi tells her.
She eyes him sharply before stepping back to let them inside. “Follow me,” she orders. “It’s just up the stairs.”
They’re slow to climb the stairs, trailing after her as she leans heavily on the railing. Kakashi takes the time to better observe the place. There are another couple of apartment rooms at the bottom, but he doesn’t expect the residents to be too much of a problem. When he was last here to scope it out, he’d only seen a pair of young adults and a rather anxious-looking older man. Hardly a major threat.
The construction is old and shoddy, but it’s all he can afford for now, and at least it doesn’t look like it will break apart from right under his feet. Dirty, yes, but still better than the child guidance centre. And while the smell isn’t the best, he doesn’t have his Hatake-sensitive nose anymore, so he can cope.
The light at the top of the steps flickers on jerkily as they stand at the top of the landing. The woman struggles for the key, then inserts it into the lock, light blinking back off as she does so. Kakashi idly taps the side of the wall. It sounds somewhat hollow.
When she finally gets the door open, they get a good look at their future home. Dust specks swirl lazily in the faint beams of sunlight streaming through the side window. The hallway is tight and cramped, and Kakashi has to creep around the strangely placed wall to view the singular bedroom and tiny kitchen. There’s a bathroom and a small space pushed up next to the kitchen counter that could maybe hold a chair or two.
It’s not great.
But there’s a rusty fire escape and a good window as an emergency exit. It’s away from their abusive guardians, it’s private and secluded, and it’s not a complete wreck.
Kakashi can make this work.
“Ah, this looks good.” He reaches into his knapsack and sets it down on the floor, unfolding the clothing to reveal a massive wad of cash. He deposits it into the landlady’s hand. “Thank you. We’ll be moving in.”
The woman flicks through the top few bills and then looks back up. “I see. Make sure to keep quiet on weekends, no pets, and rent should be deposited monthly. If that’s all?”
“That’s all,” Kakashi agrees.
She gives him a tight smile and exits the room, closing the door behind her.
Hitoshi finally speaks, looking around the apartment in wonderment. “We’re moving in? We’re leaving the centre for good?”
“That’s right!” Kakashi says brightly. “I decided it’s about time we leave that place. We’ll be living together now, just us. More time to spend with your favourite brother, ne?”
“You’re my only brother,” Hitoshi says. His eyes are slightly teary, and Kakashi does a double take to look at him more closely. Is something wrong? The apartment is bad, but it’s not that terrible, is it?
“We’ll clean up,” Kakashi reassures him. “I know it’s, ah… rough, but it will look better once we do some cleaning.”
“It’s not that,” Hitoshi says. “It’s… That was a lot of money.”
“Don’t worry about the money,” Kakashi immediately responds. “I have it handled.”
His brother stares up at him for a long second. “You won’t tell me, will you.”
“Ah, well, it’s for me to know and you to… not find out!” Kakashi drops the playfulness. “Hitoshi, you don’t need to worry about it. We have a place now, and everything is just fine, okay?”
“...Okay,” Hitoshi says. “You say it’s fine, so- so everything is good.” He nods determinedly. “I guess we have to do some cleaning.” The lights flicker as he walks towards the countertop and traces his fingers through the dust. “A lot of cleaning.” He sneezes.
“Nothing but the best for my little brother!”
Kakashi leans down to prod at the floorboards, and catches the loud creaking of someone running across them to collide with his back. “Oof!”
Two arms wrap around his chest.
“Ah, Hitoshi?” He awkwardly tries to turn his head. “What’s this for?”
The arms squeeze even tighter. Fluffy, purple hair tickles the back of his neck. Kakashi barely picks up the faintest of mumbles as Hitoshi nuzzles in closer.
“What’s that?”
“Thank you,” his brother says. “Thank you, Kashi-nii.”
Kakashi tries to play it off. It’s not like Hitoshi even knows what he’s been doing, and with any luck, he’ll never find out. “It’s no problem,” he says. “Just doing my part.”
“No,” Hitoshi interrupts. He drops the embrace and lets Kakashi turn around to face him. “Thank you.”
His eyes are so insistent, and although Kakashi knows his brother cares for him, he can’t help but be caught off guard by the utter emotion and adoration found in his eyes. He looks at him pleadingly, like he wants him to understand. He looks at him like he’s saying, I love you.
Kakashi breathes out, and ruffles his brother’s soft curls. “Of course,” he says simply. “Anytime.”
I love you too.