Here Before and After Me

by Name_Changed_For_Legal_Reasons

Summary:

Tobirama slowly lifted the blanket back up, revealing the child to have neither magically dissapeared, nor spontaneously started making sense in the time he'd spent wishing them to.

Slight correction to his earlier statment; There was a small, unfamiliar Hatake child laying in Tobirama's bed.

 

Or, 6 year old Kakashi gets zapped back to the warring states. Tobirama picks him up by the scruff and immediatley invokes finders keepers rules

Notes:

Title from mitski lyrics bc I know what I am

Tobirama is like in the 18-19 range here and Kakashi is 6

Chapter 1: Tobirama

There was a chakra signature in Tobirama's room.

The man frowned, pausing in his work and setting his brush down as he refocused his senses.

It was a small one, quiet in a way that usually meant the person was asleep. A soft buz of electricity like a film of static draped over them told him all he needed to know about their chakra nature, but not much else.

An intruder, asleep? In his room?

If not for the unrecognized chakra signature, Tobirama might assume it was his brother. If only because he was the only one he could see being so bold.

What were the odds it was an enemy?

If they were here to kill him, they were an frankly pathetic assassin to have fallen asleep while waiting for him arrive.

Now both too wary and too curious to finish his work, Tobirama set his brush down proper, moving from his desk. He wiped the ink stains from his hands as he slipped out of his lab, absently re-activating his security seals as he went.

The house was dark and silent as it was empty, Anija not yet home despite the late hour. There was every chance that he'd decided to simply spend the night at a cousins house after his planned evening of helping with the birth of their cousins new litter of hunting dogs. Though "helping" in the sense of he'd really just wanted to hold the puppies.

All the more alarming, if their intruder truly was an enemy who'd somehow known Anija would be gone.

Tobirama was not dressed for a confrontation with a possible assassin. He was clad in the simple samue he always wore to sleep, his armor kept in the same room the intruder peacefully slept in.

He took one of the many swords displayed up on the main hall as he went, twirling it absently as he adjusted to its weight and grip. It was not his usual blade, but it would be more than enough for one overconfident intruder.

Into his room he went. Perfectly silent as he expertly stepped over each creaky floorboard he knew so intimatley. This room had been his since he was 6 and deemed old enough to sleep separately from his brothers. There was no world in which he would possibly misstep here.

Tobirama's cool face turned into a confused, near offended scowl as he realized exactly where the intruder had chosen to sleep.

There was a lump on his bed. Burrowed in his sheets, tucked into his blankets. His intruder had apparently made themselves all too comfortable in his bed.

The sheer audacity had him seeing stars, his icy facade breaking as a proper, bewildered grimace overtook him.

Feeling even more secure in the skill levels of his intruder (there was no world in which Senju Tobirama, the white demon, would ever be taken out by a shinobi stupid enough to fall asleep in their own targets bed) Tobirama brought his sword to the tip of his blankets. Hooking the blade, and lifting the thick winter quilt up with a simple tilt of the wrist.

There was an unfamiliar child lying in his bed.

Tobirama dropped the blanket.

...

...

...

He slowly lifted the blanket back up, revealing the child to have neither magically disappeared, nor spontaneously started making sense in the time he'd spent wishing them to.

Tobirama once again refocused his senses on the child, studying his chakra, and then blanched at what he found under the static electricity of their chakra nature.

Slight correction to his earlier statement; There was a small, unfamiliar Hatake child laying in Tobirama's bed.

The burning white of his mother's clan's chakra was unmistakable to him, even while he hadn't inherited enough of it himself to use.

What in the world—?

Not entirely convinced he hadn't somehow fallen asleep and was currently having one of the oddest dreams of his life (though still ranking far behind a very disorienting nightmare he'd vowed to never think about again that involved him, Izuna, and the most awkward hot spring bath of his life) Tobirama formed a seal, muttering "Kai" as he willed any possible illusions to vanish.

And still, the child slept on in his bed. Unbothered and just as real as he had seemed a minute ago.

They were very, very small, no doubt under the age of 7 at least. Their hair made of wild grey spikes that were mussed every which way, spiking up awkwardly from where it was pressed into his bedsheets. Pale skinned and dressed in an odd style of clothing that wasn’t anything like the traditional clothes Tobirama was used to. It was closer to some more sleek shinobi clothing he'd seen, but even then still felt odd.

Tobirama sank into a crouch besides his bed, watching as the child— a boy, he thought, though it was a little difficult to tell with how young he was, and with how much of his face was hidden —breathed in slow, even breaths. Buried deep in a dreamless sleep, if the stillness of his chakra said anything.

The man set his sword down on the floor as he frowned at the boys sleeping face. How in the world had a Hatake child made it into his bed?

The last he'd heard from them, the Hatake were still roaming Iron country, looking for place to settle down for another year or two. The nomadic wolf clan were viciously protective when it came to their young, and the infertility issues that ran through both men and women of the clan only meant they took even more careful track of their children, guarding them jealously.

Not to mention the fact that Tobirama did not recognize the boy.

He would not claim to know every member of his mother's clan, but he was confident in his memories of the young ones. The few times he'd been able to visit, the children were all over him. Always so eager to see their Senju cousin, to show off to one of the very few new faces they were allowed to interact with. And their parents were always much too happy to brag about their pups; Practically giving Tobirama the life stories of each and every precious child the clan had. Of which there really were few.

And even with the mask hiding most of his face, Tobirama could already tell that this was not one.

The man frowned, perching his head on his hand as he debated how best to go about this.

The child had most likley migrated to his room because he did somehow know Tobirama, even if Tobirama did not recognize him. The chances of a lost Hatake child just happening to wander into the bed of the only Hatake man in fire country was... astronomically low.

The wolf clan did have very powerful senses. Tobirama's own obscenley powerful chakra sensing was a result of how the clans kekkei genkai had seemed to take a new form when mixed with his father's Senju blood. So the mask the boy wore— maybe his nose was especially sensitive. Had he somehow smelt a Hatake nearby? And then followed that scent all the way into Tobirama's home and bed?

He seemed awfully comfortable sleeping there, for a boy in a strangers home, literal countries away from his own clan.

Well, there really was no better or faster way to find out other than the obvious; Waking the child up.

Something Tobirama... didn't exactly know how to go about.

He lifted his hand, hovering it hesitantly over the boys shoulders for a moment as he debated gently shaking him awake. His hand stilled inches away from his shoulder, then retreated as he thought better of trying to wake a probable shinobi child with a strangers hand on their shoulder.

He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again as he debated what.

His hand moved again, an aborted twitch that he genuinely didn't know what direction it intended to go in.

Finally, he cleared his throat.

"Child."

The boy twitched.

"Child, it's time to wake up."

He tried to keep his voice soft, but years of experience had taught him that his version of a 'soft voice' did not... typically meet the standards of most.

The boy twitched again, cracking open one bleary eye and squinting up at Tobirama. He mumbled something the man couldn't quite catch, rubbing a heavy palm into his eye and sleepily slurring something again.

"Tou...san...?"

"No, child. I'm not your father."

"Wha...?"

The boy sat up slowly, visibly disoriented as he shook the last heavy vestiges of sleep from his shoulders.

He blinked at Tobirama, patiently kneeling at his bedside.

He blinked at the room, dark and unfamiliar.

He blinked down at his hands, wrapped up in the blankets he'd so been so happily burrowed into.

In a fraction of a second, the boy was up on his feet, all the way on the opposite side of the room. Braced against the wall as he stared at Tobirama with wide eyes.

Tobirama allowed him the escape, remaining still kneeling silently near the bed, sword laying abandoned near his feet.

The boys eyes flitted from Tobirama, to the sword, to the multiple possible exit points of the room. Start boy, clearly trained well despite his age.

"Where—" Finally, his eyes settled on Tobirama's face, narrowing dangerously. "Where am I?"

The way he spoke was as odd as his clothes. His accent that of fire country, not the iron accent every other Hatake Tobirama knew spoke with.

"A question I had hoped you'd be able to answer yourself."

"You're...?" Suddenly, the boy paled, visibly faltering as his jaw dropped behind that mask of his. "N-Nidaime-sama—!?"

The... second 'fire shadow'? It was some sort of title, but not one Tobirama had ever heard— and certainly not one ever directed at him.

Hmm. Honesty, or playing along? It was probably best to let him draw his own conclusions and see where it got him, so misdirection it was.

Tobirama only tilted his head, neither in agreement nor denial.

"This has to be a dream." The boy muttered, starting to relax past his shock.

"If it were a dream," Tobirama mused aloud, "would you even be able to consciously question it?" Said like a man who hadn't been questioning if he himself was dreaming not even a minute before.

The boy went back to staring at him. "Definitely a dream." He decided, then seemed to blush a little beneath his mask. "A weird dream, ugh. What am I, 5? Who dreams about wanting to nap with the nidaime..."

"Is that what you were doing in my bed?"

He was definitely blushing now, pink creeping out from beneath his mask. "It's not my fault you smell like tou-san—" the boy faltered. "Like tou-san did."

Father dead then, or at the very least gone. Tobirama wouldn't be so tactless as to ask after it immediately, but he had to wonder if the man had branched out from the Hatake long before the boy was born. That would at least explain why he'd never heard of him— not to mention the accent.

The boy scowled scowled into Tobirama's silence, taking it as permission to continue thinking out loud. "Why would I dream of you smelling like tou-san, and not just tou-san?"

Again, he faltered. "I mean— I-I wouldn't even want to dream of him anyways." The boy scoffed, his fingers tightening where he'd come to grip his crossed arms till his knuckles flashed white. "Not even if it was to apologize."

"Does he have a lot to apologize for then?"

"Yes." He snapped back furiously, his answer near reflexive.

Tobirama didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't bother to. Instead shifting his weight and falling to sit on the floor properly, leaned up against his bed. The boy seemed to take that as an invitation to slowly begin creeping forward, almost without seeming to realize what he was doing.

"He has too much to apologize for in something as stupid as a dream. For— For leaving me. Not even some stupid dream hug could make that any better."

"Is a hug what you think you'd like right now?" Tobirama asked, genuinely curious and unsure of how to comfort the boy without guidance.

Some clear instructions would be extremely helpful, actually. He always did so much better in emotional situations when people just told him what they expected from him.

The boy flinched, the pink of his face flashing a deeper red as his eyes first grew wide then narrowed almost violently. "Who said they needed a hug—!?"

"I think you implied it, in a roundabout way."

The boy made a choked sputtering noise of denial, which Tobirama ignored.

"Hmm, if this was a dream, would you think I've been manifested as an inner voice of yours, or just a figure to talk to? Or perhaps a stand in for your father, safe from the baggage of having to see the real him looking back at you." He mused aloud. "If this truly is a dream, would me implying you want a hug just be a way of telling yourself it's what you wanted?"

"Wh— That's stupid! I'm a shinobi, we don't need things like— Like—"

The boy was still blushing, arms crossed defensively even as he now stood a mere foot away from the still sitting Tobirama.

"Like a—" He squinted in distaste, squeezing the word out in an embarrassed pitch. "a hug."

"Now that, I do not believe is true. My brother is fond of telling me that being a shinobi in fact entitles me to more hugs, than less."

"Your brother." The boy said flatly. "The Shodai Hokage."

The 'first fire shadow...?' Well, at least the odd titles certainly had some sort of theme. And the fact that the first had been aimed at him and the second at his brother most likely ruled out a simple case of a mistaken identity.

"Mm." He hummed noncommittally. "Think of it another way then. If this is indeed all a dream, then what's the harm in it? At the very least, you can prove to yourself that you're right about not needing one."

Tobirama tilted his head towards the visibly hesitating boy, carefully extending a hand out to him.

"Wouldn't you like to prove me wrong?"

A small, careful hand very slowly reached out to meet his own much larger one. The rough palms of a shinobi, even one so young, slipping into his.

"This is a stupid dream." The boy murmured, almost to himself as he took Tobirama's offered hand.

Tobirama looked at it their joined hands, bemused. He hadn't really expected the child to hold hands with him, but whatever.

The boy shuffled closer shyly, glaring down at the floor as he seemed suddenly incapable of meeting Tobirama's eyes.

Tobirama held still as the boy, still holding onto his hand, slowly began to wrap himself up in his arms. Pressing in close to his chest and letting out a quiet little sniff that Tobirama politely pretended he didn't hear.

"You really do smell like tou-san." He scowled, sitting tense in Tobirama's embrace.

"Most likely because I'm related to him." Tobirama nodded, laying a careful hand on the boys head. His hair felt as Tobirama had come to expect from his mothers clan, Hatake thick and soft like the fluff of a well groomed dog.

"Wha—!?" He jolted, wide eyes suddenly staring up at him in shock. "You are?"

"Mm. I realize I've yet to introduce myself. I am Senju Tobirama, unless I am in Iron, in which case I am Senju-Hatake Tobirama."

The boy just stared, seeming strangely unable to comprehend this. "Y-you're... but— I mean— A Hatake?"

"On my mother's side, yes."

"B-but— I mean, that's..." his eyes raked over Tobirama's face in wonder, like he was trying to take in every inch he could see. His hand moving from Tobirama's to press against the mans chest as he gaped. Seeming to have forgotten that this was 'just a dream' in his shock.

"Would you like to introduce yourself to me now?"

"I-I'm Hatake Kakashi, Nidaime-sama."

Tobirama nodded. "A good, strong Hatake name."

Kakashi flushed, balling his hands into little fists as he averted his eyes. "Thank you, Nidaime-sama."

"You keep calling me that, but I'm unfamiliar with the title."

"...Nidaime-sama?" Kakashi eyed him, confused, and Tobirama nodded.

"It's, I mean, because you're the second Hokage...?"

"Another term I'm unfamiliar with."

Kakashi looked at him like he was waiting for a catch. "Is that a trick question?"

"I can promise you it's not, Kakashi-kun."

"The Hokage is like... I mean..." He squinted, visibly struggling to find a way to put it, before grumbling, "I've never had to explain what a Hokage is before."

Finally he huffed, flopping forward onto Tobirama's chest. Suddenly much more comfortable in his embrace than he had been a minute ago.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter, so just forget it. Ok, Nidaime-sama?"

Tobirama looked down at him in bemusement, eyebrows raising.

' Bossy.'

"Because this is a dream?"

"Yeah, exactly. This is just a really weird dream, where I guess you're here to hug me. Which is stupid, by the way, but I mean..." Kakashi peeked up at Tobirama stubbornly from where he was still now leaned into his chest. "If you have to, I guess it's fine."

Tobirama snorted, and wrapped his arms around the child, leaning his head back against the bed.

"Of course, that makes perfect sense."

He supposed he could save his questions for later. He'd let Kakashi find his safety in the idea that this was all some strange dream he'd cooked up for a while longer.

Though it would probably be best to get some answers before his over-excitable brother came home and found a child in the house.

A small, adorable little Hatake cousin for him to smother.

Hashirama hadn't taken after their mother, not like Tobirama had. He was all Senju, the mokuton in his veins smothering any Hatake traits he may have otherwise inherited. And it was that divide had turned their Hatake cousins away from him in the past.

While Tobirama had been given the opportunity to prove himself to the clan, to earn his tattoos and take on their name, Hashirama hadn't.

He'd confided in Tobirama more than once that he'd sometimes wish he'd been born a little wilder, not like the trees, but instead in the way of the wolves. To have a piece of their mother with him the way Tobirama did; To be able to truly understand his brother and the odd habits he had that came from the wolf clan; To be able to be welcomed by their mothers family.

He lived vicariously though Tobirama's stories of visiting the clan. His face wistful as he hung on every word, every scrap that Tobirama could give to him.

'Well, Anija,' Tobirama mused, running his hand through Kakashi's hair with a faint humm. 'You may finally get to meet a child of the clan after all.'

Maybe, if Kakashi liked Hashirama enough, when Tobirama returned the boy to their clan, Hashirama might be permitted to meet the other children.

Kakashi hummed back into his chest, a small rumble Tobirama had heard before from the other Hatake children. Almost a purr, if you chose to see it as one. It brought a wry grin to the man's face, his eyes lingering on the head of gray hair pressed against him before he turned his grin up at the ceiling.

Questions could come later.

For now, he'd let the child have his peace.

Notes:

No one ask me if I'm gonna continue this, there's a sliiiight chance I will but also I really dunno. It's been sitting in my drafts for a little bit and I sort of hit a wall with how to go to the next potential scene, and eventually I just kinda said "Ah fuck it, I'd rather put out what I have so far then let it rot in my notes app for a month"

Anyways, catch me on tumblr @oh-no-its-bird

Chapter 2: Hashirama

Summary:

"Tobi!" Hashirama couldn't stop himself from blurting out, slackjawed. "You stole a child?!!"

The child in question jolted, looking at him with wide, droopy eyes. Tobirama turned away from the stove, frowning at his brother.

"This," Tobirama announced, purposefully firm as he maintained very intense eye contact with his brother. "is Hatake Kakashi."

"Tobi—!?" Hashirama yelled, now even more alarmed. "You stole a Hatake child—??!!?!"

"For God's sake Anija—"

Notes:

Ages:

Tobirama ~18

Hashirama ~23

Kakashi ~6

Hashirama trudged through the snow, unable to suppress the cheerful hum that escaped him.

Even through the thick snow, he could feel roots —buried deep into the ground and deep in their sleep to avoid the biting cold— give little wiggles in response to his joy, celebrating with him.

The birth of the hunting dogs had gone perfectly, he hadn't even needed to help! And the puppies had been adorable. Cute little wiggling larval things with wrinkled, pink skin and wet noses. So much like Hashirama's memories of the births of his little brothers that it almost made him sigh wistfully with nostalgia.

The puppies would be grown enough to start running around just in time for spring to hit, and wasn't that just wonderful? What a good sign for the upcoming year!

Truly, this would be a good year for the Senju— Hashirama just knew it.

Hashirama grinned as he stepped up onto the porch of his home, shaking off the snow that clung to him.

Now to start off the day by retelling the entire birthing story to Tobirama! His brother might have preferred to stay home and work on his projects over seeing the puppies himself, but surely, he'd want to hear how it'd gone! And of course, get a super detailed description of how cute the puppies had look, squirming around like little worms in a nest of blankets as their mother nudged them closer to her vulnerable belly.

If nothing else, his brother was always willing to listen to hear his babbling.

Usually.

And, well, if not, Hashirama was sure a bit of theatrical pouting could help convince him. Or it could get his brother to walk off in a huff, but that was a risk he was willing to take!

Hashirama grinned, sliding the door open and calling out a happy, "I'm home!" as he stepped into the warm house. Already he could feel the last dregs of snow melting from where it clung to his hair. Hmm... was it warmer in here than usual?

Hashirama perked up as the sound of dishes clinking and smell of slow cooking stew met his ears and nose. Was Tobirama cooking stew? To start the cooking process so early in the morning, he must be slow cooking it for dinner.

Mmmm, slow cooked stew, left to simmer all day till the meat was practically falling apart... the best possible thing to eat on cold winter nights such as these.

Haha, Hashirama had been right, it was a wonderful day indeed!

"Otoutooo, are you cooking stew?" Hashirama sang, hanging his coat up to dry and nudging off his shoes as he leaned back into the hall to call out through the house.

"In the kitchen, Anija." Was the only answering shout he got, and Hashirama rolled his eyes at his little brothers continued refusal not to have conversations yelling across the house. It was a perfectly viable form of communication! A little friendly yelling through doors and down halls never hurt anyone, Tobi!

Still, Hashirama obediently padded over, still humming as he went along.

The plants of the house, though many had fallen still and silent in the harsh winter, waved their leaves at him in hello as he passed, welcoming him back home. He gave them a little wiggle of his chakra in return, which made some of them shake even harder in excitement. He couldn't help but chuckle at the display, brushing past them and into the kitchen with laughter on his lips.

Only to stop in the doorway when he found that his brother was not alone in the kitchen.

That was not the oddest thing, as Touka did often stop by— Many times uninvited and unannounced, not that either brother minded their cousin's spontaneous visits.

The fact that their little guest was a child wasn't especially strange either. Tobirama was incredibly popular among the children of the clan. Hashirama was fairly sure there were some sort of ongoing hagiarchy system the children followed, that depended on how much time they could get with their favorite clan heir.

What was alarming was the fact that the child, whoever they were, was very visibly not Senju.

"Tobi!" Hashirama couldn't stop himself from blurting out, slack jawed. "You stole a child?!!"

The child in question jolted, looking at him with wide, droopy eyes. Tobirama turned away from the stove, frowning at his brother.

"This," Tobirama announced, purposefully firm as he maintained very intense eye contact with his brother. "is Hatake Kakashi."

"Tobi—!?" Hashirama yelled, now even more alarmed. "You stole a Hatake child—??!!?!"

"For God's sake Anija—"

"No one stole me." The boy scowled. Probably. It was hard to tell with the mask, but his eyes were doing this very cute scrunching thing, brows furrowing.

The expression felt a little familiar, actually, familiar enough that it only took Hashirama a second to place.

"Oh! Oh, Otouto he looks just like you!"

The two of them blinked dumbly at him in unison, then turned to blink at each other. Finally, they turned to look back at Hashirama with near identical looks of grumpy looking confusion.

"Anija, please. Just because we both have pale hair—"

Hashirama gaped. How could they not see it? "What? No, it's not the hair, it's the expressions— Just like that!!" He pointed enthusiastically as Kakashi, who's face had begun to take a turn for the 'is this guy crazy or what?' look Tobirama so often aimed at him.

"Otouto, I swear he has the same look as you whenever you think I'm talking crazy! Ohh, he's just like a tiny you! This is so cute—!!"

"You're seeing things, Anija." Tobirama shook his head, settling back down into his skin and turning again to the stove.

"I am not! I'm— Oh, you really are so cute, where did Tobi find you? Are you visiting from the clan?"

Hashirama couldn't help but vibrate at the prospect. For the Hatake's to trust them with one of their children, how huge! Hashirama had never been permitted to so much as glimpse one of them, even as their cousin by blood. For one of their precious children to he sent to his home—!!

Even if Tobirama was the one expected to watch over them, Hashirama was the head of house, and the child would still be under his care.

It felt a bit odd that they wouldn't have sent some sort of warning in advance, not to mention send him during wintertime; But Haruka, the sister to their mother and current Hatake clan head was, well... a little spontaneous.

'A little spontaneous' might be putting it lightly, actually.

Kakashi continued staring at him, his eyes flickering to Tobirama a few times as if to double check that he was still there. Was he shy? That was fine! Hashirama could totally be patient and gentle and help his cute new little cousin to warm up to him slowly!! The first Hatake cousin allowed within his care— ah if he thought about it too much he'd get emotional!

He tried to consciously settle back down, realizing he was perhaps leaning towards the boy a bit too eagerly.

"Ah, not exactly." Tobirama tapped the ladle he'd been stirring with against the pot, settling it down on its edge to turn back to the table. "Kakashi seems to have gotten a little lost, isnt that right?"

"Lost...?"

Had the Hatake lost one of their children?

Hashirama gaped at his brother, horrified by the thought alone.

"Mm. Isn't that right, Kakashi?"

Kakashi nodded hesitantly. "Yes Nidaime-sama."

"Tobirama, Kakashi. We're cousins after all."

Out from under the mask, Hashirama could see Kakashi's pale skin light up pink as he nodded even more hesitantly and mumbled, "Yes, Tobirama-sama." towards the floor.

Tobirama nodded approvingly.

"Lost, Tobirama?" Hashirama prodded, trying not to seem as alarmed as he definitely felt. "We'll need to send a letter to Haruka, but with the snow—"

"Mm. No letter will be able to reach the clan till the snow melts." Tobirama agreed.

"Haa, and they're probably setting half the country on fire trying to find him in the meantime." Better Iron country than Fire, at least.

"Not... exactly."

"Otouto?"

Tobirama looked at Kakashi, who was watching their exchange like it was some sort of fascinating sparring match, head swiveling back and forth between the brothers as each spoke.

"Kakashi, am I right to assume you've had no contact with the Hatake clan in Iron?"

No contact—? When his brother said that Kakashi had gotten lost, could he truly mean—

Kakashi hesitated, then looked away, shamefaced. "I've never met them before."

"But you carry the name and mentioned a father who presumably did the same."

The boy nodded but remained otherwise silent.

"Are you running from something, Kakashi?"

Hashirama went cold.

Bloodline hunters grew bolder every year, and the Hatake's were infamous for their wild nature and a kekkei genkai that gave them strength, speed, and enhanced senses that could normally only be acquired through very specific summoning contracts.

The Senju were safer than most clans, the Mokuton so rare that it was impractical to hunt them for the one in a million chance of getting lucky— but other clans were not so lucky, and some were more desirable than others.

The Uchiha and Hyūga in particular were under constant threat, their bloodline limit too easily stolen with only the need for a particularly skilled hand, a little luck, and literally any tool better than a rusty spoon.

The Hatake were somewhere in the middle grounds of desirable, their bloodline limit attractive but the clan itself often considered too wild to be worth risking trying to tame. Their private nature and fierce protectiveness of each other only made it harder for bloodline hunters to sink their teeth into any of them.

The rare few times a child had been taken, the Hatake's had kicked up such a fuss that they'd heard of the blood baths even in Fire Country. The stories reached as far as Suna, if you asked in the right places.

For Kakashi to know his clan's name but not the clan himself— For him to have (or have had) a father who was presumably the same—

Had bloodline hunters managed to steal a bloodline from one of the most infamously impossible to steal from clans? Had they managed to do it so thoroughly that it resulted not just in this child, but his father as well?

The thought alone flooded him with such a unique sort of fury he did not know if he could truly put a name to it.

He could feel the plants of the house reacting to his rage, growing still and sharp at some unseen threat. The tiny furs of their stems bristling, petals and leaves shuddering into stillness in movements so small they were near imperceptible to all but Hashirama, who could feel their shuddering silence reflected in his bones, only amplifying his own freezing rage.

Ah... calm, calm, there was still a child here. Settle down, settle down, control the greenery, don't be controlled by it.

Hashirama tried to carefully pluck his chakra back from the plants, refusing to let the playback loop of emotion take control of him.

He knew his face had grown too still, his smile a little too wide, but the boy's eyes were still downcast and so the danger went unnoticed.

His brother noticed, but seemed to recognize he had it in hand, and continued his questions.

Kakashi shook his head no, and Tobirama examined him for a slow moment before tipping his head in allowance.

Truth.

Hashirama felt himself relax, just a little bit.

"No one to go back to, or to worry about coming to find you?"

"No, Tobirama-sama." Kakashi scowled, these words weighed down with some unknown personal offense. "No one at all."

Ahh abandonment issues, Hashirama's old friend. How sad to see you reflected on such a tiny face.

"Was your father the only Hatake you knew?" Hashirama prodded gently, and Kakashi jolted at being addressed directly by him, sitting up a little bit straighter as he addressed Hashirama. Oh! How polite!

"Um, yes, Shodai— Um— Hashirama... Sama...?"

Hashirama beamed at the boy. "Aww, there's no need for honorifics here Kakashi, you're family after all!"

"Um."

Kakashi looked at Tobirama, a little bit wild around the eyes and clearly looking for assistance. He got none, Tobirama calmly and conveniently choosing this moment to turn away too busy himself with the tea he had left steeping.

"Um." Kakashi repeated, more stressed this time as he turned back to Hashirama's still smiling face.

"Come on, it's not that hard, is it?" Hashirama pouted, which only made the boy twitch. "Oh! Or maybe you should just call me nii-san!"

"Hashirama is fine!" Kakashi rushed to say. "Hashirama is um— Yes, Hashirama-sama. Hashirama."

Hashirama laughed, leaning back as Tobirama returned to the table with three sets of cups.

"There you go! That wasn't so hard, was it? Ah— Otouto, is this your awful tea again, or the good kind?"

Tobirama sniffed. "All of the tea I make is the good kind."

"So, it's the awful kind then. Tobirama, you can't feed that to a child!"

"To think I'd serve you something I prepared with such hard work only for you to so spitefully belittle it."

"I hear words coming from you but none of them deny the fact that you should not be feeding that awful tea to children!" Hashirama huffed, reaching over to Kakashi. "Let me see your cup, Kakashi. I need to test it for poison before you can drink anything from it."

"Poison he says." Tobirama grumbled, snatching back both of their cups before either could touch them. "Fine. You want your watered-down nonsense tea and I'll give it to you. Ungrateful. Spoiled. Disrespectful."

"I can handle the tea!" Kakashi reached for the only remaining cup, but Hashirama stopped him with a hand over his hand, over the cups rim.

"Maybe you can, but you really don't want to."

Kakashi looked at their hands, then back up to Hashirama's face. He narrowed his eyes at him as if to say, 'you can't tell me not to do something.' Adorable.

"I can take it."

Hashirama considered his options, then smiled and let go. "If you're sure!"

He propped his head up on his hands, watching as Kakashi reached up and tugged down his mask. The boy brought the cup to his lips and gulped down the over-steeped sludge Tobirama liked to call tea, choking the second the flavor hit his tongue.

He didn't let that stop him though, jamming his eyes closed and chugging the tea in a frankly impressive display of self-control. Finally, he slammed the cup down on the table like it was a shot glass, wiping at his mouth and staring dead eyed at Hashirama.

"It's delicious." He said, voice perfectly flat and still visibly shuddering at the taste.

Hashirama stared.

At the counter, Tobirama turned to give his brother an over satisfied smirk— then also stopped to stare as he saw the same thing as his brother.

Kakashi looked between the two of them, at first a little smug as he figured their shock was at his little display of determination, then growing confused when they continued to stare, wide eyed and open mouthed.

"Ah. Hmm." Tobirama tilted his head, as if getting a new angle would help this new revelation to make better sense.

Hashirama meanwhile, lunged across the table faster than the unprepared Kakashi could possibly react to, taking up his small face between his hands and studying him with disbelief.

"Wha—?" Kakashi squirmed in Hashirama's hold,

"You look just like Haruka." He breathed, and Kakashi stilled.

"Who?"

"Tobirama, he looks just like Haruka."

"I can see that."

"Tobirama—"

"I know, Anija."

"Who?" Kakashi asked again, this time more insistant and more than a little alarmed.

"The Hatake clan head, our aunt."

"Tobirama he even has the little beauty mark!"

"I know, Anija."

"I thought he looked like you, but figured under the mask he'd— I mean, lots of Hatake resemble you, at least a little. But Haruka doesn't have any family left. We don't have any direct family left, on the Hatake side. If bloodline hunters took from any Hatake, it would be a blood bath. But from the clan head—?"

"No bloodline hunters took anyone!" Kakashi blurted, suddenly alarmed at this apparent turn in the conversation.

"I have to believe that Kakashi, for your own sake as much as the clans." Hashirama said, releasing the boys face and falling back into his chair with a heavy, muted sigh.

Then he shot up.

"Otouto— Tobi, he looks like Haruka." He said again, this time realizing exactly what that meant.

"I know, Anija." Tobirama repeated, in the tone of voice that said he too understood exactly what that meant for them.

Family was a complicated matter in their house.

While technically, Hashirama and Tobirama had a lot of family, Senju and Hatake both, when it came to direct relations there were only 2 remaining.

Touka, who was the only direct cousin to the main house left after bad battles and worse winters had picked the remaining off before the brothers had even been born. Touka only removed from them by one branch, just enough to claim fully as theirs. And Hatake Haruka— the sister of their late mother and the closest blood relation they had left in the world. Haruka had no mother left, no father, no husband or child. And so, it was only her they could claim as a direct relation from the Hatake.

It wasn't the worst thing, not when the Senju clan as a whole was so tight knit. And the Hatake's were in a ballpark if family loyalty all of their own— though it was really only Tobirama who they extended the full connection to. Something Hashirama was... well. He didn't want to say he was bitter about it. He was happy his little brother had that connection, happy that he had more people who could truly understand him in ways that the Senju could not.

But he couldn't help but have moments of jealousy when he wished he too could be accepted into their ranks as his brother had.

But besides that— This boy. He looked too much like Haruka, too much like Tobirama had when he was little, for him to be anything other than a very close blood relation.

Hatake Kakashi. Could he really be some lost member of their line? Stolen away by circumstance if not bloodline hunters? For him to have found his way back to them here instead of the Hatake— could that be something Hashirama could call fate?

The plants were whispering again, latching on to the new mess of growing feelings welling up inside him. Little lost thing, come home to take root. Water him, nurture him, let him come to feed us too. Plant him here under our shade, don't let him leave to dry up out in the sun. Ours to nourish, ours to take root, ours, ours—

Hashirama ripped his chakra away from the plants, violently enough that they shook with enough intensity to be noticed. Calling back for him, apologizing, wanting to burrow back into his chakra and promising to this time keep quiet. He ignored the whispers, focusing instead on the way the boy was now staring at him cautiously.

Hashirama would not make this weird. He could not make this weird. The plants could have their due when he had time for them, not right now.

"I still don't know who that is." Kakashi grumbled, and Hashirama stood abruptly.

"I'll find a photo. Just— one moment, please."

Shaken, both from the situation and from the lingering whispers, he fled.

For a moment, Tobirama and Kakashi existed in silence. The boy leaning back to stare up at the man, the frustrated pout visible on his face now that his mask lay discarded around his neck.

Tobirama couldn't help but stare at the face. With that glare fixed on his face, he really did resemble Tobirama himself when he was that age.

This entire thing was a surprise, but... not a bad one.

Finally, Tobirama cleared his throat, and returned to brewing tea that his brother might find more palatable. Not that there was anything wrong with Tobirama's own tea.

"So, Kakashi," he began, after a beat of silence. "do you still believe this to be a dream?"

The boy looked up at Tobirama's back, then away. If he were any less well trained, he might have begun fidgeting.

"...No."

Tobirama nodded as Kakashi hunched his shoulders and ducked his head, staring resolutely at the floor.

"Then you know I have to ask. Where do you come from, child? I think we've established that wherever it is, it's not from the Hatake clan I know."

"Not from some bloodline hunters, that's for sure." Kakashi grumbled, and Tobirama hmm'ed, remaining otherwise silent in an invitation for the boy to continue.

He didn't, fidgeting into the silence for a few solid moments that stretched out between them— painfully, for Kakashi, but not so for Tobirama, still waiting patiently.

"It's— I'm—" Kakashi started, then stopped again. He scowled and shook his head. "I can't tell you."

"Can't?" Tobirama repeated carefully, and Kakashi hesitated, then shook his head.

"I won't tell you. I'm— I'm sorry, Nidaime-sama, but I— Me being here is already, I mean, I don't want to break anything and—" A small hand has found it's way up to the boy's lips, sharp teeth meeting skin as he gnawed anxiously at his knuckle.

"I can't, I won't, I just—"

"That's enough, Kakashi."

The boy paused as Tobirama leaned over him, and gently lead his hand away from his teeth.

"I don't need to know."

"Wha—? You don't want to know?"

"I do." Tobirama said simply.

"Then why...?"

"You are a child of my mother's clan, bearing an alarming resemblance to my own aunt." Tobirama began patiently.

"You seen to be physically healthy and other than the cursory distress of being in a strange, new place, show no signs of stress that might come with abuse or from running from something. I trust you when you say that there was no bloodline hunter involvement in wherever you come from, and I believe you when you day you have no one to go back to or worry for.

You are safe, and at least at a glance, mentally sound. So now I'd like to move on to the next important step in getting your story— whatever it is you feel you cannot tell me."

Kakashi made a questioning noise as Tobirama turned again to the counter and picked up the cups of tea he'd been working on.

The man circled the table, sitting opposite to Kakashi and placing two new, steaming cups of tea on to the table. He leaned forward, placing a hand on the rim of one cup as he leveled cool eyes with the boys own wide ones.

Tobirama slid the cup forward towards Kakashi, his face the softest it could get, even while it remained still and serious.

"I'd like to build trust with you, Kakashi."

The boy made a questioning noise, staring first at him, and then at the cup.

"I will not push, so long as you continue to be honest with me as you have so far."

Slowly, hesitantly, Kakashi wrapped his hands around the warm mug. He swallowed, hard. Then, he nodded.

"Thank you Nidaime-sama."

"Tobirama, Kakashi."

"Tobirama-sama..." Kakashi mumbled, flushing and averting his eyes.

Good enough. Tobirama would not begrudge the boys his manners.

Besides, Hashirama would be there to play "good shinobi," as it were. He was sure his more severe temperament, when placed next to his brother's warmth, would make him the second favorite anyways. It always tended to work out that way when it came to especially small children, and he would not upset himself over that.

"Hatake Haruka is our aunt, on our mother's side, and closest remaining blood relative." He began to explain, and Kakashi nodded eagerly in understanding.

"She has no direct blood relatives other than us remaining, so your resemblance is... surprising, to say the least."

Right on cue, Hashirama re-entered the room. He looked more settled; his chakra also calmer than it had been some minutes before. The time spent looking for the photo was much needed, it seemed. Tobirama would have to ask if he was alright once they were alone— he hadn't seen his brother got worked up that badly in... hmm. Since Chichiue died, actually.

Probably not a good sign.

"I've found it!" Hashirama happily displayed the portrait he'd no doubt pulled from some half-forgotten, buried box somewhere, still in a dusty frame.

It was old, the only one they had that included Haruka— a painting of her and their mother, sitting aide by side.

Twins, seen as good luck in every clan but especially so among the Hatake, with their dangerously low birth rates. They'd grown to look different as they got older, but both of the women looked significantly younger in this portrait than any of Tobirama's memories. Perhaps as young as he was now.

"I forgot how much you looked like mother, Tobi." Hashirama teased, though there was something wistful in his words.

Tobirama couldn't find the words in him to reply, so he only made a vague noise of agreement. This wasn't about him anyways, and he took their goal as an excuse to brush past his brother's sudden nostalgia.

"Hatake Haruka." He tapped at the face of his aunt, sliding the photo towards a slightly slack jawed Kakashi, who took it in with hungry eyes.

"She looks like Tou-san." The boy let slip past his lips without even realizing, nearly knocking over his cup as he leaned forward to dragging the photo even closer to him. He barley seemed to notice, too busy taking in the photo to register anything else.

Tobirama glanced at Hashirama at the comment, who looked back at him with a somber look. Hashirama gave a questioning tilt of his head, and Tobirama shook his head. Dead or at the very least, out of the picture. His brother looked away.

Still... a relation to Haruka through the father, whoever he may have been. Another tiny clue to quietly slot away for later.

"Drink your tea before it grows cold." Tobirama sighed, standing back up to begin the process of cleaning up the kettle he'd used.

His brother gasped, seeming to notice the cup left at his seat for the first time.

"Oh, Otouto! You made the good tea this time!"

"You're tastes for tea are as poor as the way you dress."

"I knew you loved me!"

"My love for you does not outweigh my judgment for your awful tastes."

Hashirama ignored him, cheerfully lifting the cup of tea up to inhale it's aroma and sighing happily. Kakashi meanwhile, seemed to remember the tea before him.

"Oh—! Thank you, Tobirama-sama." He fumbled with the cup, bringing it to his lips and taking a careful sip— no doubt cautious after the sludge that was the first cup, Hashirama snorted.

"It's good, isn't it?" Hashirama grinned as Kakashi made a surprised exclamation, pulling away to stare at his cup before quickly gulping down more with a face flushed with surprised delight.

"Tobi makes the best tea, but only if you beg him. His normal brew is, well, you tasted it." He shivered theatrically as Tobirama banged the kettle purposefully loud against the countertop.

"My normal brew is wonderful. You and everyone else in this clan just has an objectively bad preference in tea."

"I liked your tea, Tobirama-sama." Kakashi lied, like a liar, totally straight faced as he continued to stare distractedly at the photo of the Hatake sisters.

"You don't need to lie to him, Kakashi, his ego can take it." Hashirama nodded wisely.

"My ego, he says," Tobirama grumbled. "MY ego. Because I'm the one with the ego. Me."

"It's ok Tobi, your ego is part of your charm! It makes you very cute, I promise."

"I give in and make you your silly, watered down tea and you say I have a big ego as thanks. See if I ever make it for you again."

"Aww, Otouto don't be like that! I'm sorry, you know I love you."

Tobirama didn't reply, giving only a haughty sniff as he continued to clean out the kettle.

Hashirama let out a sad sigh, draping himself over the table and pawing at the vase that held the floral display at the center of the table.

"Otouto is being so cold to me, don't you think, Momo-chan?" Hashirama crooned to the violet flower, dragging a finger along its leaves to caress it how he might a cat.

"Stop talking to the ikebana, Anija."

"You're so cruel to me Otouto." Hashirama pouted. "This is why Momo-chan doesn't like you."

A bold faced lie. Momo-chan was in fact very fond of Tobirama and his suiton-cool hands. But Tobirama wouldn't know to appreciate that, ungrateful as he was.

"I don't care if your plant likes me, Anija." Tobirama replied, like an ungrateful little brat who didn't know how to treat a lady.

Hashirama gasped, gently cupping Momo-chan's leaves as if they were ears. "Tobi! You can't say something like that in front of her, you'll hurt her feelings!"

"My apologies then." Tobirama said flatly, dry as anything and with a silent eyeroll that was less physical and more spiritual.

"Don't roll your eyes at me!"

Tobirama gave a haughty sniff. "I did nothing of the sort."

"But you thought about it!"

"I hardly think that counts."

"You're doing it again!"

"Oh." Kakashi stared at Hashirama, a sudden understanding lighting up his eyes. "You're stupid."

Hashirama gaped.

Tobirama snorted, the noise seeming to surprise even himself as his hand immediately came up to clamp over his mouth.

Hashirama's silent, offended gaping grew louder in it's silence as his jaw dropped even lower.

"Ah—!" Kakashi blinked hard, hands coming up to cover his own mouth in what was almost a little mimicry of Tobirama. "I mean— You aren't stupid, Hokage-sama, I mean um— Hashirama-sama— my apologies, I didn't mean to— I mean, it just kind of—"

Behind him, hand still over his mouth, Tobirama had begun to tremble.

"Tobirama! We have had this child for all of five minutes and you've already managed to INFECT HIM!"

"I'm sorry Hashirama-sama, I didn't mean it, you really aren't— I mean—"

Hashirama walked over and picked Kakashi up.

"UM."

"I am confiscating you."

"UM???"

"No more children in the house Otouto! Not if you're going to turn them against me!"

"That's hardly fair—" Tobirama managed between what Hashirama knew was his brother's own version of silent, near unnoticeable laughter.

"No! Clan head rules! Me and Kakashi are going to introduce him to the clan while you stay here with your miserable tea."

Kakashi began to squirm in his hold, kicking lightly at empty air. "Don't worry, the bad man can't feed you silly ideas about your great and wonderful cousin anymore, my sweet child." Hashirama sang, petting his head.

Kakashi stared at him in disbelief, kicking harder.

Tobirama's silent laughter was quickly approaching being audible, his little brother having to lean against the counter to help support him through his shakes.

"Traitor!! We will be back for you!"  Hashirama aimed an accusatory finger towards Tobirama, backing out of the kitchen with a still squirming Kakashi tucked safely under one arm.

"Bring back milk!"

"Asking me to go so far as to bring back milk after such an awful offense, who does this guy think he is?" Hashirama asked Kakashi and left his brother to laugh himself sick in the kitchen.

Mm. This was shaping up to be good year for the Senju indeed.

Notes:

Not totally happy w how I ended the chapter specifically, but I'm telling myself it doesn't really matter bc this fic is a fluff piece anyways, so!!
There might be a chapter 3, I have some ideas for an Izuna scene I want to write, but again, no promises!

Haruka is in fact Sakumo's mother, making Kakashi Hashirama and Tobirama's nephew (woah family drama,,)
If you're interested in her at all, then you should totally consider reading 'Chapter 45: the Hatake Clan head (Sakumos mother) from early Konoha time travels to kid Kakashi era, adopts him, and fucks shit up' of a Collection of Thought, I had a lot of fun with that one.

Hashi fills his house with flowers because their whispers are a lot gentler than most other plants. The trees keep telling him to kill. All the time. It's really annoying, actually.

Catch me on tumblr, @oh-no-its-bird

Chapter 3: Hashirama + Touka

Summary:

"What were they like? Your brothers."

“Oh! Well,” Hashirama’s smile didn’t dim, but something about it seemed to… still, almost. Like he had to purposefully steady himself, as he considered the question. “Hmm… no one’s really asked me that before.”

Everyone who mattered had known them. And those who didn’t, did not dare to ask.

“You don’t have to tell, if you don’t want to.” Kakashi offered when Hashirama stalled.
Hashirama shook his head, reaching out to pat Kakashi on the head. Possibly because he felt bad, Kakashi permitted it. Letting the tall man ruffle his head, even as the boy's shoulders shot up to his ears and he made a face.

“No, no, I’d love to! I’m just not too sure where to start."

Notes:

Kakashi ~6
Tobirama ~18
Hashirama ~23
Touka ~26

The Senju main house had been built for a large family.

What felt like ages ago now, it had been filled with a large family. A wife or three, a husband, multiple children, each with their own rooms— with room still for aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins, guests and more. 

The main family had been obnoxiously large at one point, and the Senju were nothing if not close.

Generations of tight knit family, large not just due to the blessings of healthy genes but also an even healthier love for, as some  liked to put it, "fucking like rabbits."

Many indirect families ended up shacking up together too, not just for practicality but also just due to the way their clan was structured. Built up on a sense of community, generations preaching a motto of "bound by our roots."

And so; A large house. One of the biggest in the clan, halls meant to hold so many.

But as the Senju main line had been whittled down, the house had grown emptier by the year. Rooms left without purpose, halls left unused.

It wasn't all bad. Tradition never ceased to be tradition, even in its death. And so in the absence of bodies to fill room, the house had become more of an open territory for some of the clan.

The main house was used to host festivals year round, its gardens decorated each year as they held each season's feasts. Its large family kitchen— not to be confused with the smaller, much homier kitchen Hashirama and Tobirama liked to use —was the biggest in the clan, and so used to prepare feasts and shared clan dinners.

There was nothing quite like the clamor of what felt like the entire clan, trying to fit under one roof.

But those were only a few weeks out of the year spent with their rooms filled. And in the absence of those festivities, there would remain only two true residents of the home.

Hashirama, Tobirama, and a big, empty house.

Well, them and the millions of plants Hashirama had taken to filling the halls with.

... Alright, that was an unfair statement.

There weren't that many, he insisted to himself. And a good 90% he'd only brought inside due to winter.

Some of them were practical plants, tomato vines and young plum tree sprouts he knew might not recover if they fell to the cold.

Others were more aesthetic things, pretty flowers and big leafed bushels, plants that had crept closer and whispered to be taken out of the cold. ...Or who were just too cute to see die.

And they'd been so annoying , begging him in whispers to be let in day and night, till he'd finally given in.

Ugh, you spoil a plant by bringing them inside for winter one time and suddenly all the other plants are keeping you up at night begging to share the warmth.

Honestly, Hashirama was doing this for his best interests! After all, the only way to make some plants whispers shut the hell up was to bring them as close as possible.

Give them somewhere nice and warm, a spritz or two of water, and maybe the occasional blood of an enemy for fertilizer and they were easy as pie to manage. Nice and sweet for him, like a docile kitten who'd finally been fed.

Mostly, anyways.

But naughty plants who don't shut up and use up all their second chances get put out in the cold to die alone. A wonderful lesson to be applied in all walks of life.

Tobirama, of course, had scowled with every new potted plant he would have to skirt around to navigate. But if his little brother got to have his multiple labs that Hashirama could only enter with explicit permission, then Hashirama got to have his plants.

Those were the rules they'd agreed on when the house officially became theirs, and neither brother was willing to crack on them first.

All of this was a very long winded way to say that the halls of their house were crowded. Very, very crowded.

Hashirama wove around potted plants and ducked under vines with a practiced ease of someone who's been doing it all winter.

Kakashi, still held tightly in his arms, dangled in his grip in a way that sent his legs swinging left and right with each twist and turn of their trip down the hall.

The boy made repeated noises of protest, having to lift his legs up more than once to avoid them being knocked into the many pots and baskets filling the hall.

"You'll need something warmer to wear." Hashirama hummed, looking down at the boy he'd all but kidnapped from his brother's side.

The boy in question scowled, kicking at the air and squirming in Hashirama's hold. Hashirama ignored his struggles, continuing to cart him around like a little purse dog as if he didn't even notice his futile attempts to escape.

"What I'm wearing is fine!" Kakashi denied. "Just put me down!"

"Mmm I'm not quite sure about that!" Hashirama disagreed cheerfully as he made his way down long hallways, towards an old room.

Honestly, Kakashi's outfit was beyond odd when considering the current weather. It was clearly cut for a much hotter climate, and the style itself was... strange. Sleeker and very unlike the more traditional clothing Hashirama was used to seeing himself.

It reminded him somewhat of tactical gear he'd very occasionally seen other clans to the west wearing. Easy to move in, certainly, but still very... hmm. Was futuristic the right word?

New. He settled on. It was very... new.

Hashirama didn't comment on it, having already decided to pocket any oddities he noticed to talk over with Tobirama in private later on. The brothers would have their mystery, but Kakashi himself would remain none the wiser to their suspicions.

It was for the best.

"Now, do you want something with your clan crest on it or something more neutral? I think Tobirama has some old things with the Hatake mon on it that might fit you."

The fact that the Hatake were a territorial bunch had been a lesson impressed on Hashirama particularly well when Tobirama and Itama had returned from their first solo visit to them, absolutely dripping in new clothes decorated with the clan's symbol ten times over. Much to Butsuma's distaste.

'Like a bunch of dogs trying to mark their territory' Father had scowled, sending the twins off to change back into their normal (Senju) clothes.

Hashirama himself had a single, now much too small haori with the mon on it. Received the very first time he'd met their aunt, though he'd never been brave enough to wear it.

If seeing his youngest sons, spares to the spare, dressed in Hatake clan clothes had upset Butsuma, seeing Hashirama dressed in it would have enraged him.

It was probably still somewhere in the house, buried along with the rest of his childhood things.

Just another thing not to think too hard about, but such was life.

The offer to have something with his clan's symbol on it made Kakashi still. Staring up at Hashirama with suddenly wide eyes.

"You... have something like that?"

"Well, we might have to refit it for you, but we should! I'm sure Tobirama won't mind if we borrow a thing or two from his old clothes."

Kakashi's eyes shifted downward, suddenly shy. "Maybe."

"Mm?"

"Maybe." He mumbled again, a little lower.

"Perfect, let's get looking then. Where did we put those though, hmm..."

Hashirama finally set Kakashi down as they reached what had once been Tobirama and Itama's shared room, but was now mostly used to store their childhood things.

Kakashi quickly put distance between them, skittering away from the tall man as soon as his feet hit the ground. Eyes narrowed in suspicion, no doubt wary of Hashirama grabbing him again.

It made Hashirama smother a laugh, not wanting the boy to think he was laughing at him. Though he... sort of was.

He couldn't help it! Seeing him all narrow eyed and hissy, it reminded him of an angry kitten. Who wouldn't chuckle at that?

"Here we go, I'm sure we'll find something in our old things." Hashirama hummed, opening the door to a room filled with boxes.

Kakashi poked his head in the room curiously as Hashirama strolled forward— and was immediately struck down by a wave of nostalgia he had to fight to push past.

Hashirama wavered for only a moment before he continued on into the room, quickly making his way towards some of the larger boxes stacked in the corner.

"These are all your old things?" Kakashi asked, sounding a little surprised.

"There's a lot, I know."

And there was , the room filled with stacks and stacks of things— boxes, furniture, a few different racks of clothing, pillows and blankets, and old carpet or two —all sorts of things that might have belonged to four little boys, once upon a time. All crammed into one room.

"Not all of it was ours, some belonged to our brothers too."

"I didn't know you had brothers."

That was an odd way to phrase it— implying Kakashi expected to know that sort of thing. Then again, the Senju were one of the major clans in Fire Country, so there was some plausibility there.

"There were two more of us." Hashirama replied simply, working to keep his tone bright. "Kawarama, our big brother, and Itama, Tobirama's twin."

"Oh." Kakashi didn't seem to know how to reply to that. Hashirama still did not look his way, distracting himself by opening up one of the boxes marked as clothes.

After an awkward pause, Kakashi shuffled his feet a little, clearly wanting to ask something but not sure how. Finally, the boy’s curiosity seemed to outweigh his manners.

"I… thought you were the oldest?"

Such confidence! It was almost as if Kakashi had some sort of clan education— at least of the Senju, anyways.

Hashirama tucked the thought away.

"I am. Now, at least." 

"...Sorry."

Hashirama paused, giving Kakashi a playful look that seemed to surprise him more than anything. "What for?"

"Your loss, I guess. Or um— asking."

"Don't be silly, Kakashi. You can ask whatever you'd like, I don't mind talking about my brothers. Besides," 

Hashirama grinned, reaching over to ruffle Kakashi's hair. The boy made a noise of protest, pulling away.

"You're family too! Can't have you not knowing about your own brothers, hmm?"

Kakashi flushed. "I'm not your brother!"

"Ahh, my cute little brother is already trying to disown me." Hashirama sighed sadly. "They grow up so fast."

"I'm not—!"

"I suppose we'll just have to stay sad, distant cousins then."

Kakashi made a noncommittal noise, turning an even brighter red as he kicked at the floor in a distinctly embarrassed way. Hashirama laughed, which only seemed to make the boy pout harder.

"What were they like? Your brothers."

“Oh! Well,” Hashirama’s smile didn’t dim, but something about it seemed to… still, almost. Like he had to purposefully steady himself, as he considered the question. “Hmm… no one’s really asked me that before.”

Everyone who mattered had known them. And those who didn’t, did not dare to ask.

“You don’t have to tell, if you don’t want to.” Kakashi offered when Hashirama stalled.

Hashirama shook his head, reaching out to pat Kakashi on the head. Possibly because he felt bad, Kakashi permitted it. Letting the tall man ruffle his head, even as the boy's shoulders shot up to his ears and he made a face.

“No, no, I’d love to! I’m just not too sure where to start. Kawa— Kawarama, he was our elder brother, older than me by maybe five years. He was… soft.”  

“...Soft?”

“Mm. No one ever believed it though, his face— well, you haven’t seen Tobi when he’s mad yet, but Kawa’s resting face could put even that glare to shame.” Hashirama chuckled just thinking about it. “He looked so stern, all the time. He had this big scar on his face too, which only made it worse. But he was really very gentle. He spoke in this quiet whisper, and would always help cover for us whenever we did something stupid— chichiue hated it.” 

Hashirama’s tone turned a little wistful. “He was the kindest shinobi I ever knew.”

If he had still been alive, if he had been the one to be clan head instead of Hashirama… could they have had peace by now? It was best not to think of it, lest he fall into the trap of what-ifs.

“He sounds nice.” Kakashi mumbled, after the silence went on for too long. 

“Oh, he was. And Itama, the youngest, well he was kind of the opposite.”

Hashirama chuckled as Kakashi made a curious noise.

“He had just the cutest little face, with these big, droopy, mismatched eyes. No one could say no to him when he asked for something, and he was always up to something. But no one would ever believe it, even if he got caught red handed, because he was just so squishy and innocent looking.” Hashirama laughed as the image of a tiny, doe eyed Itama giving him his best ‘I promise I didn’t do it this time, really’ stare that somehow always worked.

“He even had Chichiue second guessing himself a couple of times, though he eventually got a bit too good at smelling when he and Tobi were up to something.”

“Tobirama-sama would get into trouble with him?” Kakashi asked, curious.

“Oh, yes, all the time. They were twins, you know. Tiny little trouble makers, even if no one ever believed it. ‘Oh Hashirama, your brother is too responsible to have set the chicken coop on fire, you shouldn’t say such things!’ Shows what they knew!” Hashirama snorted as Kakashi’s eyes went wide. 

“See, he has you thinking it too! Don’t you trust that serious look of his, Kakashi! My baby brother is a real trouble maker, even now! Honestly, I don’t know half the things those two got up to, and I’m pretty sure a lot of the stories I do know have more than a few missing details they managed to keep to themselves. You should ask Tobi himself, I’m sure he’d have some fun stories to tell you!”

Kakashi looked a bit doubtful that Tobirama would want to tell him anything about, you know, his dead twin, but made a noise of vague consideration. 

Ahh, that face of begrudging but silent acceptance… It really did bring Hashirama back. 

The man’s smile continued to grow, before he paused, looking down at the box he’d been sorting through as he’d talked. 

“Oh!” He lifted up a thick, two toned hanten, one half silver and the other half a sky blue. On its back, the nine square diamond of the clan. Very traditional Hatake. “Here we go. Try this on for me, will you?”

Kakashi reached out with slow, hesitant hands, something heavy and almost longing in his eyes. When he took the hanten, he held it carefully, running a hand across it’s thick, layered folds, tracing the diamond on its back.

“‘The silver crash of lightning, the clear blue of a clap of sound.’” Hashirama quoted, and Kakashi’s head jerked up, his eyes suddenly wide.

“Is that what the colors mean? I always thought—” Almost immediately, the boy cut himself off.

“What did you think it meant?” Hashirama tilted his head, curious, but Kakashi outright ignored him. His ears burned a bit pink as he shrugged the hanten on, smoothing it out as he avoided looking at Hashirama.

It was a bit too big for the boy, the sleeves falling to the tips of his fingers as the hem went to his knees. But honestly, in this chill, Hashirama thought that might be for the best. 

“...I like it.” Kakashi mumbled, still smoothing the cloth out.

“I’m glad! That should keep you warm, at least. Though we still need to find you a few things to wear under it, don’t we?”

Kakashi frowned. “Isn’t this enough?”

“Oh Kakashi, you’re so funny!” Hashirama laughed, and Kakashi’s brows knitted as his frowned deepend.

“But I wasn’t—”

“You’re so funny!” Hashirama steamrolled over him, still beaming. “Don’t worry, you’re big brother will make sure to give you some nice and warm clothes for the cold!”

Kakashi turned bright red. “You’re not my big brother!”

“My little brothers are so mean to me.” Hashirama despaired, and Kakashi huffed, stomping his feet as his face continued to glow cherry red. 

Hashirama would get him eventually.

 

-----

 

Touka grunted as her axe split wood.

"Hey baa-chan, how much of this stuff do you need again?" She called out to the frail old woman sitting on her porch.

The woman smiled, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh, much more than that dear, please, continue."

Touka side eyed the mountain of wood she'd already chopped, quite sure that it was more than enough for the old woman's household for the month. Still, she shrugged and went back to it.

Something like this to keep her busy was better than nothing, after all.

"I'll go get you something nice to drink." The old woman hummed, standing on shaky feet and retreating into her house. Leaving Touka alone in her yard, save for the few chickens brave enough to try and slog through the snow.

Touka wiped her brow.

She'd been at this for some hours now, and even with her shinobi training, this kind of simple, repetitive manual labor always gave a pleasant burn to her muscles. Farm chores really were an under-appreciated form of training.

Plus, listening to every other request the older clan members asked of her earned her plenty of favor to use later.

Touka smirked, tossing another chunk of wood onto her cutting block and readying her axe. She adjusted her grip and swung—

Only for her axe to pause a mere hair's breadth away from the wood as a voice called out to her from across the bluff.

"Toukaa!"

Touka's head went up, the woman looking over towards where her clan head and closest living cousin walked towards her, waving a hand excitedly. If she squinted, she could almost picture a matching tail wagging excitedly behind him.

She snorted at the thought, and pushed it away.

"Hashirama." Touka set the axe to the floor, leaning on its handle. "I thought you planned to spend today... hm?"

Touka paused as a flicker of movement behind her cousin caught her eye.

Touka squinted, leaning over to try and get a better look. Simultaneously, the kid hiding behind Hashirama squinted back at her, leaning out from behind Hashirama’s legs to get a better look of her.

Touka took him in. The grey hair, the dark eyes, the unmistakable half and half Hatake hanten. Her eyes darted up to Hashirama, who smiled at her pleasantly. 

“No fucking way you stole a Hatake kid.” Touka said flatly, and Hashirama made an incredibly offended face.

“Stole? Stole, she says! Like I would steal a child!”

“You might not, but I don’t trust Tora not to, and then you to cover for him.” Touka replied, eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“No one stole me.” The kid huffed, and Touka had to pause to give him another once over.

“You sure about that?” 

The woman raised a singular sharp brow. Something that seemed to make the boy even huffier, and shit, he was cute. Touka kind of wanted to pinch his little masked cheek till he started flailing to try and get her to let go, just like she’d do to Tobirama when he was young. Speaking of Tora, didn’t this kid look an awful lot like he did?

Probably just the Hatake genes.

“Of course I am!” The boy grouched, and Touka hummed, looking back up to Hashirama, who looked amused.

“Kakashi is our Hatake guest!” Hashirama grinned. “He’ll be staying with us for a few weeks, until we can try to get him a way back home to his clan.” 

Kakashi harrumphed , tugging lightly on the tail of Hashirama’s sleeve in a way that spoke of shy displeasure. Hashirama looked at him curiously, and he averted his eyes to the floor.

“I mean, I might want to stay, maybe.” The boy mumbled, and Hashirama paused, smile freezing on his face for a second as he visibly buffered.

“Ah— Kakashi?”

“I mean, I want to meet my clan.” Kakashi scowled, and Touka blinked a bit dumbly.

Meet—? As in, he hadn’t yet—?

“But… you guys are ok too, you know. And, um, I mean, you seem like the sort of guy who might do some pretty cool stuff, you know, in the future. Or something.” Kakashi physically cringed as his at first shy confession turned awkward and stilted.

Touka and Hashirama, meanwhile, stared. 

“Ah— Kakashi? That’s, I mean—”

“Maybe you should wait to… meet your clan, before you start saying something so big.” Touka butted in to save her cousin.

Kakashi huffed yet again, and went quiet. 

That’s it, Touka couldn't resist anymore.

She dropped the axe, hand darting out and grabbing the boy’s cheek before he could react. 

Kakashi yelled, but no one came to save him as Touka began to aggressively squish his cheeks through his mask, grinning like a maniac all the while. “You’re a smug little brat, huh?”

“Lemme go!” Kakashi yowled, kicking and squirming the way only a 4 foot nothing shinobi kid could. Not that he was any match for Touka, who just pinched him harder. 

Hashirama, meanwhile, made no move to help either of them.

Kakashi let loose one last yell, and then his hands moved in a blur. Touka blinked, taken off guard by the scene of someone his age suddenly throwing together such a comprehensive bunch of hand signs.

By the time she was opening her mouth, getting ready to warn the boy not to do anything stupid— at his age? Whatever jutsu he was trying to do was sure to fail, and probably blow up in their faces if his luck was shit enough. —Kakashi had already finished with his signs, and had disappeared into a puff of smoke.

A single log, the one she’d been just about to chop, falling to the floor in his place.

Touka turned. Kakashi, now behind her, squating on the chopping block, glared back.

Hashirama began to clap, looking both stunned and elated. “Very impressive!”

Meanwhile, Touka squinted. “...How old did you say you were again?”

“I’m six.” Kakasi scowled, as if daring her to comment.

“Fucking Hatake geniuses, I swear to god.” Touka mumbled as Hashirama continued to clap.

 

-----

 

While they still had a week or two before weather would be fair enough to send a message to the Hatake, it wasn't too early to begin to pen one.

Which is what brought Hashirama here, sitting at his desk before a blank piece of paper. Staring at it listlessly, unsure how to begin.

'Hatake-sama —'

Almost immediately, Hashirama crossed out the title out so violently that the ink of his brush bled out across the page in an ugly smear.

Formal, too formal, much too formal.

He wasn't a stranger trying to pander to the Hatake clan head, he was... a nephew trying to tell his aunt he'd found a child who may or may not be hers.

He crumbled the page up, reaching for another one to try again.

'Haruka-sama — '

Another sudden jerk of his brush sent ink splattering onto his fingers as he hurriedly crossed this second try out.

It still felt too formal, too awkward. The Hatake were a very relaxed clan, Tobirama had once told his brother that they barely used honorifics between them.

Hashirama was for all rights and purposes her nephew. So maybe...

'Haruka-obasan—'

Nope, nope, nope.

He scribbled that one out frantically, then tried to pretend his face hadn't gone a little red at the prospect of calling his aunt by such a familial title.

He hadn't called her anything like obasan since he was ten.

To be fair, he... really hadn't talked to her in general, since he was 10. He'd received occasional gifts on milestone birthdays, and on one very memorable occasion, a short letter Tobirama had carried to him from one of his own visits to the clan.

(One that had taken him an entire week to work up the nerve to read, only to find it disappointingly short.)

But genuine, back and forth communication? Never.

... Has Hashirama ever sent a letter to his aunt before? Without Haruka sending one first? Suddenly, he couldn't remember.

Ugh, why was this so hard?

If he kept second guessing every word he put to pen, he'd wind up sick from the stress of it. Maybe he should ask Tobirama to write it for him...?

No, no, he had to do this himself.

Both as a clan head reaching out to another clan head, and because this was his first real shot to open up direct communications between him and his aunt.

He reached for another page.

'Haruka,'

Yes. Perfect. Neutral. Relaxed. He was so neutral and relaxed about this.

Alright, what next?

His hand stalled for suspiciously long as he fought to think of how to begin the actual letter portion.

'We had the strangest guest surprise us—'

No, no, no, too relaxed, too abrupt a start. Fuck, ok, again.

'I write to you with a mix of excitement and worry.'

Hashirama tapped the wooden end of his brush against his lip, staring down at the words. It wasn't... bad.

He kept going.

'We've found a Hatake child. Or he found us, I suppose.

Tobirama assures me he isn't one of yours, and the boy himself also speaks as if he's never known his clan in full. His name is Kakashi, and he bears a striking resemblance to you. Really, if I didn't know better, I would assume he was yours.'

Though as he wrote that out, he had to wonder if maybe...? But no, certainly Haruka would have told them if she'd had a son.

...Right?

Then again, it was Haruka. And if there was a single, concrete fact to expect of her character, it was that he shouldn't try to predict anything of her.

Still, even if she had had a son and not told either of the Senju brothers, she certainly would have raised hell if she'd lost that son, no matter what sort of secret he was supposed to be.

'We've mostly ruled out bloodline theft, and the boy seems well fed, educated, and trained. Not to mention, he shows exactly the right amount of suspicion and independence that I'd expect of one of your children. Kakashi is very clever and very on-guard. He reminds me of Tobirama, when he was his age, not just in appearance.

In all honesty, I’m a bit at a loss of what to do—’

Hashirama had to keep himself from nervously gnawing at the wooden end of his brush, a nervous habit he’d only just managed to break some years before. Should he… admit this sort of worry to his aunt? But no, it was fine, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like he was writing to some enemy to be on guard with, after all.

Still, Hashirama found himself crossing the line out, and changing direction.

‘Kakashi is a fine boy, and has taken to the household surprisingly well, for all of his mysterious circumstances. He shows hints of some sort of mystery, and while we haven’t been able to work out just what is going on with him yet, I’m sure time and trust will have him show his hand eventually.

In the meantime, we’ve settled him into one of the old rooms, and will find something to keep him busy. 

I hope this letter finds you and the clan well, and I hope too that you might find some time either to come and visit, to see the boy, or for one of us to deliver him to you directly.’

Was it too much to hope that Hashirama might get to deliver Kakashi to them…? But no, he probably couldn’t anyways. He was the Senju clan head after all, he couldn’t just leave like that, no matter how much he might wish to.

‘I’m sending this message to you as quickly as the snow will allow it, and I hope to receive a reply soon.’

Was that it? Was that how he ended this? Was it too abrupt? Could that read as rude? Should he… he didn’t know, add more fluff to it? Ask about the weather there? Was that something he could do? Or would that be weird, packed in with such a serious topic. 

Ugh, this whole thing made his head hurt. Hashirama forced himself to move on, trying to convince himself that it was a fine way to end the letter. Still, his stomach twisted. Unsure if it was really good enough a note to leave on.

Either way, he continued

'Your nephew,'

Writing the title made him feel oddly nervous for some reason. He chose not to think about it.

'Senju Hashirama'

 

Notes:

Twins Tobirama and Itama... eldest child 'too soft to be a good shinobi' Kawarama.....save me senju bros headcanons...save me....

 

*sighs and changes the chapter count from 3 to 5*
Omg hi u guys it's me !! Back on my bullshit, as always. I am so happy to finally be able to say the iconic author sentence; this was supposed to be a one shot. The comments (and the worms in my brain) however have convinced me to keep the ball rolling, so, for now at least you will get 2 more chapters. No promises on the release dates tho

There are also very vague ideas for maybe a chapter after that, which would have (gasp) actual plot. Which would also spell my doom, because as soon as this baby catches a plot it's no longer a silly stupid fluff piece and I might have to actually commit but. We shall see.

This chapter ended up being Hashirama focused, but future chapters should lean more back towards Tobirama, not to fear!

Next chapter: FINALLY Izuna, this time for real, I promise. Who the fuck let this toddler onto the battlefield?? And why does he feel like this is Tobirama's fault???
And after that, Kakashi gets to meet his grandmother— and Hashirama gets to face his aunt
(In a clan apparently famed for loving children, is it not strange that they'd apparently reject one of their own? Hmm, maybe we'll get to talk about that soon)

Chapter 4: Izuna

Summary:

Izuna wasn't exactly above killing a child. He wouldn't enjoy it, it would probably haunt him in his dreams for a good few months before he found some other horror to drown it in. But he would do it, if he had to.

And if this child really was some secret, prodigal youngest Senju brother— or, God forbid, Tobirama's own spawn, (Sage help any woman with enough poor taste to lay with that brick of ice) then it really might be for the—

"Hatake Kakashi, stand down."

 

Ffffffffffuck never mind.

Notes:

Posting this at 1am w minimal edits, there may be some mistakes but I'll come back to fix them uhhh. Eventually. Dw ab it. Pretend you don't see them pls

Izuna just barely resisted letting out an ugly curse as he nimbly dodged around a tree.

Kunai peppered the bark behind him as a volley of knives slammed into the space he'd just been. Insultingly slow, if they wanted to catch him on their blade.

An Uchiha patrol he'd been part of had come too close to the Senju border, enticing an attack from the trigger happy Senju bastards on the other side of the river. 

Clearly, unlike the Uchiha's own willingness to avoid the bad luck bloodshed so soon in the year would bring, the Senju dogs were as stupidly hellbent on destruction as ever.

With any luck, their idiocy would bring on enough misfortune that their entire overgrown compound would spontaneously catch fire. Killing them all and sparing the world that much less misery.

Ugh, Izuna could only dream.

At the very least, this team of Senju idiots didn't seem particularly skilled. Or at least, not skilled enough that Izuna might think this was any sort of planned attack.

(Not that there had been any planned attacks, since Madara and Hashirama had each ascended as their respective clan head's. A fact Izuna did not allow to sway him— it was always a possibility.)

His scowl only grew deeper as the Senju flanked his clansmen. Izuna pivoted, purposely flashing across their field of view in an attempt to distract them as his comrades retreated.

Look at me, you stupid Senju— your mortal enemy, your rival clans second! Pay no attention to the others, I'm all you could ever want.

It worked, three of the five Senju immediately refocusing on him— as if they'd ever manage to touch a hair on his head.

Idiots, all of them.

Maybe Izuna would begin to fear for his odds, if a single one of them showed even a scrap of talent. But as it was now? 

Hmph . Nii-san better keep the stove hot, because Izuna would be home for dinner on time.

Izuna carefully led the Senju back towards their own territory. Trusting his clansmen to take care of the two stupid enough to follow them, now outnumbered, deeper into Uchiha lands.

He should just slit their throats now, honestly. But the threat of being first to spill blood in the new year— ugh, Izuna wasn't exactly the most superstitious of his clan, but there were lines and traditions even he was mindful of.

This winter had already been hard for Uchiha, there was no need to invite bad luck to the coming spring.

A flicker of familiar chakra up ahead sent Izuna slamming himself to the ground on instinct alone. A volley of needles made from water zipped overhead, tearing through the air where he would have been speared if only a moment slower to react.

Senju Tobirama landed in front of him, blade in hand.

Ha, finally, a real challenge.

"Senju!" Izuna called, rising to his feet. "The winter only just broke and you're already rushing to fight, how predictable."

The bastard didn't react, making Izuna let out an annoyed tch. Instead, Tobirama waved a hand towards his fellow Senju, barking out an order to retreat.

"What, leaving so soon?" Izuna mocked, taking the stall in battle to take in his rivals appearance.

'This bastard... doesn't he look rather rushed?'

He was missing his usual signature fur collar, and the ties of his armor were tied rather sloppily, if still secure. It was only due to Izuna's sharingan that he could tell that beneath the armor too, the black clothes he usually wore were different. Made of a softer material— not something he'd ever worn to battle before.

His eyes tracked down, and Izuna let out an ugly snort as he realized his rival was barefoot.

Clearly, the Senju had somehow gotten word of his clanmates' idiocy and rushed to save them before Izuna could slaughter them like cattle. 

How cute. At least one of the Senju here clearly knew Izuna was out of their league.

"Did you really miss me so much, that you would rush from your home just to see my pretty face?" Izuna didn't bother to contain his laughter. "I feel so special."

The other Senju nobodies began to retreat, and Izuna let them go. His full focus on his rival, who glared back at him with a silent challenge.

Ah, well, he'd wanted to get some exercise in today anyways.

A single, silent beat passed.

And then the two lunged at each other.

Or at least— there was an attempt to lunge at each other. An attempt interrupted by a blur of blue and grey as something jumped in the way.

What the hell—?

Izuna just barely managed to stay his blade, more out of an abundance of caution than anything. But it wasn't the sudden interruption that Izuna focused on— because how could he?

In sharingan slow motion, Izuna had the euphoric pleasure of seeing his rivals cold, indifferent mask crack , clean down the middle.

His lips parted in silent surprise, eyes widening in panic. Silver brows furrowed as the man jerked back in what was much more sloppy panic than Izuna's own instinctive retreat.

It was a look Izuna had never before seen on the bastards face. A look now in the process of being seared into his mind.

Izuna milked the moment for all it was worth, eyes flickering wildly across Tobirama's face as he committed every inch of this newly discovered emotion to memory. He barely gave their guest a shred of attention as he watched Tobirama trip over some invisible step Izuna hadn't been aware even existed.

Finally, he regained enough control to glance the way of their intruder— only to be faced with a child.  

What in the world…?

Grey haired and dark eyed, dressed in a thick winter happi coat with no visible clan signs. Though a mask covered the lower half of his face, Izuna was immediately struck by his resemblance to the Senju bastard standing right behind the kid. 

No fucking way.  

Izuna retreated a step back, trying to regather himself, refocus on the situation at hand. He didn’t know who this kid was, but if Tobirama’s expression was any indication— he was not supposed to be here.  

He tried not to jump to conclusions— mostly because this was not the time and place to get distracted by such things — but holy shit if there wasn't a conclusion or three he was itching to jump to. 

“Kakashi—!” Tobirama hissed, moving to snag the boy by the back of his coat only for the boy to just narrowly dodge his hand. An impressive feat, all on its own.

“Go back, now.”

“I’m helping!” ‘Kakashi’ huffed petulantly, and Izuna was once again greeted with the delight that was watching his rival’s face twist in an expression of displeasure he'd never seen before. 

“You will help by leaving. Now.”

“You better listen to your minder, little boy.” Izuna tossed out, studying Kakashi as the boy now refocused on him. “The battlefield is no place for you.” 

The kid bristled, seeming insulted by Izuna’s words. Sage, what a child. 

Kakashi huffed, and metal flashed in his hand as he flicked a kunai out of his sleeve. Hmm, that was pretty smooth for his age, not that Izuna would admit it. 

Not exactly intimidating though, seeing as the brat just barely came up to Izuna’s waist.

Seeing as his rival wasn’t about to attack when the child stood between them, (and Izuna himself wasn't exactly about to throw the first punch) Izuna lowered his blade. Sending Tobirama an unamused look.

“Have you Senju ever heard of a thing called a babysitte—” 

The kid flew at him.

What the fuck.

The kid was horrifically out of his league, obviously. Though embarrassingly enough, Izuna did have a moment of genuine panic— not expecting the little brat to be that fast, or that bold (read: stupid) to actually attack him.  

Ugh, he should have expected as much. There was nothing quite like the foolhardy idiocy of an overconfident baby shinobi.

Kakashi slashed down with his kunai, small blade meeting Izuna’s own sword as the man lifted it to greet him. Sparks flew between them, and Kakashi dropped like a stone, falling into a deadly crouch and aiming to slash at Izuna’s ankles. 

Izuna kicked out, jumping to avoiding the blade by an embarrassingly small margin. 

Kakashi too, only just narrowly dodged the kick aimed towards his head— shifting over by an inch and pressing forward. Meaning he'd avoided giving in to the instinctual urge to retreat that most young shinobi had to be trained out of. 

Instead he slashed upwards, towards Izuna’s thigh, and Izuna was forced to sidestep. An admission of ground that instantly pissed him off. 

What the hell were they feeding this kid, to get him to this level? 

Shit, should Izuna just slam him into the ground here? He was clearly some sort of prodigy, it'd be a pain to have to deal with him later, if he were able to grow up. 

It was hard to calmly debate the issue, when the kid continued to try his very best to stab Izuna. Not hesitating for a moment, pushing forward in an impressive show of skill amd dicipline. 

If Izuna could just have a moment of peace to think about if he should kill or maybe cripple him, that would be much appreciated, thank you.

Kakashi darted back as Izuna aimed another kick his way, trying to create space between them. 

But Tobirama was apparently done letting Kakashi play shinobi.  

The man swooped in as Kakashi retreated, scruffing Kakashi by the back of his jacket like a naughty puppy, expression thunderous. 

He pulled Kakashi back, tucking him in close to his chest as the boy squirmed, but ultimately went without much more protest.

Izuna re-steadied his blade, quickly going over the issue at hand, now that he'd been given a moment to breathe. 

The boy was skilled for his age— alarmingly so, to be honest. A little genius in the making, which could spell problems for the Uchiha, if he grew up to be an equally skilled adult.

Izuna wasn't exactly above killing a child. He wouldn't enjoy it, it would probably haunt him in his dreams for a good few months before he found some other horror to drown it in. But he would do it, if he had to.

And if this child really was some secret, prodigal youngest Senju brother— or, God forbid, Tobirama's own spawn, (Sage help any woman with enough poor taste to lay with t hat brick of ice) then it really might be for the—

"Hatake Kakashi, stand down."

Ffffffffffuck never mind.

Hatake? Hatake? They'd let a Hatake child onto the field?

Izuna backpedaled so hard he nearly gave himself whiplash.

No fucking way was he about to kill a Hatake child, holy shit he did not have a death wish that big. And even if he did, there were much easier, much less destructive ways to commit suicide, thank you very much.

The Uchiha-Senju conflicts had gone generations without managing to drag any other clans directly onto the battlefield. The domino effect of a single allied clan joining, on either side, would be immeasurable.

And there was no way on Sage's green earth that Izuna would be the reason the Hatake had a full, free meal ticket to come on over and stomp on their clan.

Briefly, he tried to imagine how asking for help from their own allies would go.

"Oh yes, we're very sorry but could the Shiranui perhaps spare some fighters to help with our mutt infestation?"

Imagined answers ranged from "You want us to fight the Hatake for you?"

To, "What the actual fuck did you do to summon them?"

To the even worse and probably depressingly accurate, "You quite literally brought this on yourselves, so have fun. We sure will when we pick your bones for spare coins!"

Fffuckkk.

Izuna back peddled, hard. Putting physical distance between him and the kid as fast as he physically could, hands raising into that stupid civilian gesture of 'woah there, I'm unarmed!’ Despite the sword still firmly in hand.

By the guarded gleam in Tobirama's eye when he glanced back up, this was exactly the reaction he'd wanted.

Bastard. 

At least he knew, if Izuna killed Kakashi here under his watch, it wouldn't only be the Uchiha who the Hatake came to stomp into the curb. 

And there was no temporary truce quite as powerful as mutually assured destruction, was there?

“Mind your fucking dog, Senju!” 

Tobirama all but bared his teeth his way— another great expression for Izuna's quickly growing collection.

“Mind your blade, Uchiha.” 

“Ha! Never thought I'd see the day I'd hear that coming from you, demon.” 

Tobirama seemed to be quickly regathering the bits and pieces of his cracked battle mask that had shattered at Kakashi's arrival. That signature annoying cold slowly creeping up back onto his face. 

When he didn't reply, Izuna began to fish. 

“So what, you're walking the Hatake's dogs for them now?” 

There was no way in hell that the Hatake would let the Senju just borrow one of their children. So either Kakashi had some genuine business being in the Senju home (pleeeeeasseee don't let Tobirama have procreated, dear fucking sage almighty), or there was at least one adult Hatake with him, hiding back at the Senju compound. 

Izuna couldn't decide which option he hated more. 

“Or are you just keeping their spares for when they run out of babies to eat?” 

A stupid, unfounded rumor Izuna didn't believe himself— and apparently not enough of an insult to bait either man or boy into replying. 

Ugh. 

It did, at least, earn him a somewhat confused looking glare from the kid. Shit, Izuna hoped Tobirama would be stuck having to explain that one to him later. 

“We’re done here.” Tobirama snapped, and Izuna made sure to arrange his face into his best mocking expression. 

“Leaving so soon with your tail tucked between your legs, are we Senju?” Izuna taunted, like he had any intention of stopping him. “Maybe that Hatake mutt is rubbing off on you already.” 

That finally earned him an annoyed look. “You're an idiot.” 

What a weak retort. Do better, Tobirama. 

Izuna stuck out his tongue, no longer in the mood to play. “And you're a coward. Leave before I change my mind on letting you go.” 

As if Izuna had much of a choice at all, with Kakashi still firmly tucked against Tobirama's chest— the little walking political shield that he was. 

How annoying . 

Tobirama narrowed his eyes Izuna's way, and retreated. 

Izuna watched him go with a sour expression— taking some solace in the fact that even now, his rival didn't turn his back to him. 

Hmph . At least he did Izuna the dignity of not daring to show him his back. 

Izuna watched him go, remaining purposefully loose.

Once the flicker of Tobirama's chakra disappeared past Izuna's range, the Uchiha let out a loud curse, raking a rough hand through his hair. 

What the fuck was that! 

What the FUCK was that?!

The Senju had a Hatake child? Dear fucking sage, Izuna prayed it wasn't actually Tobirama's spawn, fuck. Talk about nightmare scenario. 

Shit, but was it really as bad as the alternate nightmare scenario of there being a full grown Hatake, lurking somewhere among the Senju right now? 

Surely they wouldn't come out to fight, would they? It’d be the start of such a mess of politics— the dominos it could set off really couldn't be understated. The Senju had to be smarter than that, but Izuna couldn't help but worry. 

But what in the world could have motivated them to bring along one of their children? There had to be some sort of pre-existing relationship between the kid and the Senju, for that sort of trust. 

The Hatake had been a Senju ally for a couple decades now; Due to a marriage contract, if Izuna remembered right. The details escaped him, mostly because the Senju themselves didn't exactly advertise them.  

One of Butsuma's wives had been a Hatake— because of course the Senju war dog needed a bitch of his own back home. 

Ha, the irony. 

Izuna could still remember one or two of the jokes he'd heard about the couple, back when he'd been so young that people tried not to be as crass around him. 

Even with the filter for his child ears, none of them had been very pretty. 

So maybe Kakashi was… related to the dead wife? Making him a cousin to the main house?

Tobirama, at least, Izuna knew vaguely to be a product of the woman— their reports were old and sparse, but this at least the Uchiha knew. 

Though it had never exactly been relevant enough to surface as a conscious concern, other than when making a particularly nasty comment on his inherent nature as the Senju’s pet bloodhound. 

(Or, when it came to the nastier jokes Izuna himself preffered to simply pretended he didn't hear.)

But besides that, if the brat was Tobirama's— would any child spawned from the Senju be allowed to keep the Hatake name? They would, after all, be of the main house. 

Ugh, was Tobirama even… old enough to have had a kid? He was only a year younger than Izuna's own nineteen, and Kakashi had looked, what? Five? 

…Izuna couldn't exactly picture that stone cold bastard fooling around at thirteen , but Izuna himself wasnt exactly the picture of purity. Could also help explain why the kid was kept quiet, too, if there was a scandal surrounding his birth. 

Though in general, there was already plenty of reason to keep quiet about what would no doubt be a newborn, third in line for the seat of Senju clan head. 

At thirteen… Izuna couldn't remember if the other two Senju brothers had been killed, by then. Izuna would have been fourteen himself, just him and Madara left alive. 

The child hunter squads were starting to lose their traction, but would still have gone on for a couple more years, so…

Ughhhh, Izuna didn't want to think about thisssss.

But of course he'd have to, because he would be the one to have to investigate this shit as the Uchiha spy master. 

Sage save him from being the most competent man in his clan. Besides Hikaku, anyways. 

(Sorry Nii-san) 

Shit, at least that was one small joy Izuna could take from the situation— getting to break the news to his elder brother.

Speaking of nii-san— 

Suddenly remembering himself, Izuna glanced at the sky. His mood only grew worse, when he realized exactly how much time had passed since he'd first set out to interrupt the Senju patrol. 

Fuck.

He was going to be late coming home for dinner.

 

---

Tobirama flew through the trees, Kakashi tucked safely against his chest. 

Despite his years of experience in battle; Despite the fact that he hadn't even really crossed blades with Izuna this time around, his heart pounded in his ears as if he'd just narrowly escaped death. 

The panic that had shot through him, upon seeing that familiar head of grey hair  suddenly flying between him and Izuna— he hadn't felt anything like it in years. 

(Not since Itama had—)

And the look in Izuna's eyes, as he'd sized Kakashi up— if Tobirama hadn't intervened by announcing Kakashi's clan, he feared for what the man may have been willing to do.

At the very least, Kakashi had handled himself well. Ignoring, of course, the fact that he should not have been there to begin with. 

But in combat, at least, well—

His level of skill, and at such an age... Tobirama would say it reminded him of himself, but even he hadn't shown such prodigy till he was a bit older.

As a child of the main house, and specifically as a 'spare to the spare,' his "real" shinobi training had begun once he was 5 or so. One year older than his elder brothers. 

And he'd excelled, of course, but there had still been a learning curve— as there was with even the brightest.

If he had to compare Kakashi's current skill to his own learning, he'd compare it to... perhaps his own skill around age 8?

How terrifying.

Still, no matter how talented he may be, Kakashi had no business on the battlefield. Anija had all but moved mountains to prevent children below 14 from seeing active battle, and Tobirama would not see Kakashi as any form of exception. 

Kakashi didn't struggle in his arms as they raced back into Senju territory, quickly moving back towards the clan compound.

Hopefully that meant the boy knew he was in trouble, damn him. 

Finally judging that he'd put enough distance between him and Izuna, Tobirama skidded to a stop. All but dumping Kakashi onto the ground, suddenly enough that the boy stumbled. 

Kakashi wobbled but righted himself, looking back at Tobirama with a guilty look that turned even more pained when he saw Tobirama's dark expression. The boys eyes darted away, unable to meet Tobirama's gaze. 

Shoulders up to his ears and hands clenched in his coat as he did everything within his power to avoid Tobirama's accusing glare.

“What was that?!” 

“I'm sorry…” Kakashi mumbled, still not meeting Tobirama's eyes.

“Look at me when I'm talking to you.”  

Kakashi jolted, eyes shooting up to Tobirama's, then slipping away. 

“Kakashi.” Tobirama warned, tone dangerous.

Kakashi's eyes snapped back up to him, tiny clenched fists tightening in the cloth of his happi coat. 

“I will ask again, and you will give me a proper answer. Now, what was that?” 

“I— I just wanted to help, Tobirama-sama, I—” Kakashi stammered, beginning to look like he might start crying. 

Tobirama refused to let the little boy's tears sway him. To furious that he'd even been in that position to begin with to let it soften him. 

“You would have helped me by staying home, away from men who might kill you. And where is the Hatake hanten we gave you? Why did you come in that?”

“I— I just— It was all I could find, I was in a rush trying to follow you, so I—” 

Tobirama interrupted the boy, trying to rub away the stress in his brow. "If you go out, you must at least wear your hanten, lest someone kills you thinking you're one of us." 

"But— I am one of you! And I can take care of myself! I fought back well enough, didn't I?"

“The only reason you were not cut down immediately is because you had surprise on your side, and then because I intervened. You are not a battle ready shinobi, you are a child.” 

Kakashi flinched, eyes once again slipping away to the ground. His hands finally moved from his happi as he crossed his arms, hunching in on himself ever so slightly. 

The man stared down at the small, defeated figure of his cousin. A boy who had no business being on the battlefield, but who had snuck on nonetheless. Tobirama could only thank the sage that he’d chosen this battle to crash, instead of anything larger. 

He looked at Kakashi and could not help but think, ‘I was your age, when Chichiue first sent me out to the battlefield to see if I would sink or swim. I would not wish the nightmares it brought me on any child in the world.’ 

He could not help but wonder, ‘Did I ever look so small, when Chichiue congratulated me for surviving?’ 

Finally, Tobirama let out a loud sigh. Deflating ever so slightly.

Kakashi twitched as Tobirama took a knee, placing a hand on the little boy's shoulder. 

"Kakashi, your name as a Hatake will keep you safe from anyone not stupid enough to risk challenging them. Use it."

Kakashi glanced up at him, silently questioning. 

“This will not happen again. Do you hear me?”

Slowly, the boy nodded.

“You scared me, Kakashi.” 

“I— I'm sorry, Tobirama-sama.” 

“If you're sorry, then it won't happen again.” 

Kakashi nodded, just a little bit too quick. 

“And— I’m sorry I interrupted your battle.” Kakashi said, not sounding quite as sorry as his previous apology. “And that… you couldn’t kill that Uchiha because of me.” 

Tobirama let out another heavy sigh, standing. “I doubt today would have been the day I killed Izuna.”

Kakashi froze. Eyes going wide as he stared up at Tobirama in sudden horror. “That was Uchiha Izuna?” 

“You've heard of him then?”

“And you were planning on killing him? Today—?!”  

“Are you alright, Kakashi? You look a little green.”

 

---

 

Izuna waited until Madara had taken a rather large gulp of his miso before he spoke.

"I almost killed a Hatake child today."

Madara spat out his mouthful, spraying soup all over the table.

Yeah, thats how Izuna felt about it too.

"I-Izuna—?!" Madara sputtered, and Izuna feigned carelessness, sipping carefully at his own bowl.

"Hm?"

"Are you going to elaborate?!!"

“Am I?” 

“Izuna.” 

Uh oh, that was his ‘I'm going to dunk you in the koi pond’ voice. Better start actually talking, then. 

“Sorry, sorry—” Wow Izuna didn't actually know how to start this. Hm. Best to just rip off the bandage probably, right?

“Ran into the Senju bastard.” 

“You'll have to be more specific, Izuna.” Madara said, already exasperated. 

“Fine. Ran into my Senju bastard.” 

Madara looked like he was torn between leaping over the table to look Izuna over for injury or rolling his eyes so hard he gave himself a headache. 

“Tried to fight him, kid jumped in the way.” Izuna twirled his spoon as, predictably, Madara interrupted right on queue. 

“He had a child with him?” 

“I'm pretty sure the kid snuck out and followed. Bastard seemed surprised to see him— ugh , you should have seen it nii-san, his face, just— priceless.” 

Izuna could see it now, twisted up and ugly with surprise. What a wonderful image, really warmed Izuna's heart.

“Yes yes, good for you— the child??” 

Izuna made a face. “I'm getting there!” 

“Then get there faster.” 

“Kid jumped in the way, attacked me. I was debating breaking his arm, maybe some light maiming, maybe killing him, when The Bastard full named him. Hatake Kakashi. Backed off after that, obviously.” 

“Why was maiming or killing on the table to begin with?” Madara pleaded, looking stressed. 

“He was talented, nii-san.” Izuna wrinkled his nose, hating to admit it. “He almost got my ankles, the little shit. Quick, good instincts, good reflexes— I don't want to see what he turns into, if given time to grow.” 

Madara looked torn, not… not understanding where Izuna was coming from, but still hating every word his little brother said all the same.

“Well, he's a Hatake at least.” He seemed to settle on, very neatly packing the entire dilemma into a neat little box that could be tossed away all together. 

“So he won't be our problem in the future, if he does live up to…” Madara waved a vague hand. “Any expectations of skill.” 

“Hopefully.” Izuna frowned, leaning his cheek onto his palm. “But either way, it does bring up the concern.”

Izuna pointed his spoon at his brother, brows knitting as he proposed the question. “What is going on with the Hatake, that one of their children is here?” 

 

---

 

The very same week the cruel winter of Iron Country began to thaw, a letter arrived in the Hatake camp.

It was carried along by the wings of a spotted bird, soaring high over head till its sharp eyes caught color below. Beginning it's descent with a screech to announce its arrival.

Little attention was given at its first call. Its second, however, had heads turning upwards, grey haired faces squinting up towards the sky.

The Hatake clan head could not be counted amongst the first to spot the messenger bird.

Instead, Haruka was busy poking through the thick blankets presented to her. Piled up high on a wheelbarrow, the labor of love of so many hands over the winter.

"Hoo , the weaving this year really is spectacular. I'm almost tempted to say we shouldn't sell them."

She ran her hand across the thick pelt of a blanket lined with rabbit fur. Keiko's work, she recognized instantly. 'Good shit , ' as the kids say.

Besides her, Tetsuo, her young chosen heir, pet a blue and brown quilt thoughtfully.  

"They could make for an impressive gift, if we're ever in the position to have to give one."

"As good and excuse as any to keep one or three." Haruka chuckled, picking a more intricate blanket out of the pile and holding it up to admire its pattern.

She paused as, not too far off, a third bird call reached her ears.

You know, so close, that call was beginning to sound almost familiar. But she couldn't be right— that bird was native to Fire country. It had no buisness being this deep into Iron, especially at this time of year.

On a hunch, she tossed the blanket she was holding towards her heir. Tetsuo sputtered as it hit his face, falling over his head. Haruka ignored him, eyes on the sky, searching for....

There it was.

Haruka held an arm aloft as, in a flurry of wing beats, a bird she'd only ever seen either on a plate or when communicating with her nephews landed on her outstretched arm.

Seeing as it wasn't looking particularly cooked, stuffed, or spiced, she felt safe to assume the bird was here with a message.

"Haruka—!" Tetsuo protested, pulling the blanket off of his head and shooting her a disgruntled glare she was by now completely immune to.

"A-shshsh, a moment."

Tetsuo grumbled something ugly under his breath that Haruka pretended she didn't catch.

Haruka zeroed in on the scroll tied to the birds leg and began to unfurl it, unlocking the seal keeping it shut tight with a flash of Hatake white chakra.

Tetsuo meanwhile, returned to the blankets— now with a much more annoyed air, grumbling all the while.

He sorted through them, trying to separate by quality and method of craft. But, seeing as they all shared space on the same wheelbarrow, there was really only so much separation he could do.

"Ugh, Tsuki." Tetsuo cursed under his breath, picking out a tapestry carefully embroidered with near hypnotic spirals that seemed to go on forever. "We can't sell this, it'll end up cursing someone."

He tossed the supposedly cursed tapestry over a shoulder, burrowing through more thick sheets before he paused.

A disgruntled expression passed over his face as he plucked out an already tattered blanket, more bundle of half-burnt rope loosely woven together than anything.

"Who let Sora donate to the pile again? She was supposed to be banned, after last years disaster."

When he examined it closer, it seemed like it was made only from scraps of the thick wool they'd spun specifically for their winter weaving. At least no one had given her anything valuable to destroy, then.

It joined the spiral tapestry slung across his shoulder.

"Daisuke, at least, as good as always." He noted, picking up a thick weave of color.

Seeing how brightly colored this year's project was, suddenly he understood why the man's hands had been dyed so thoroughly for most of the winter months.

Although...

Tetsuo brought the blanket up to sniff, and then made a face.

"Ugh, we'll need to wash out the tobacco smell. His nose really must be failing him, to have left it this strong."

Ah, the risks of smoking when your nose was so delicate already... Tetsuo couldn't imagine ruining his own nose like that. On purpose or no.

A snap of a scroll being closed rather sharply made him jolt.

He glanced Haruka's way— only to fall still when he registered the rather wild expression pasted across her face.

"Haruka...? What did the letter say?"

"I'm going to Fire Country."

Tetsuo froze. Dropping the blanket he was holding.

"You're what?"

"I'm going to Fire Country." Haruka repeated, already turning to begin walking away.

Tetsuo tossed the spiral tapestry and charred rats nest of a... whatever Sora had been trying to make back into the wheelbarrow. Stumbling after his clan head, panic setting in.

"Haruka??"

"I'll be back in.. mmmmm , a month let's say. And bring back a gift too! How fun, I bet you 30 ryo that you can't guess what I'll bring back."

"HARUKA—??!"

"This will be good for you!" Haruka continued cheerfully, completely ignoring his alarm. "You'll get to practice being in charge when coming out of winter, all on your own! What an achievement, I'm sure you'll do great."

"Haruka, please—!!! You can't just leave, not right now!"

"Why not? You've helped me run the winter wind down duties these past couple of years, and we're off to a smooth start of it all already. You'll be fine!"

"But— But—"

Haruka didn't so much as look at him, heading straight for her home to presumably gather her things.

"But you— You— You can't!"

Finally, Haruka paused. Turning Tetsuo's way and placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him. When she gave him a soft smile, Tetsuo felt a bolt of hope shoot through him.

Hope that immediately crumbled as soon as she opened her big, fat mouth.

"It's very cute you think you can tell me I can't do something."

Tetsuo had to resist the very real urge to tear his hair out.

Haruka seemed to take his agonized silence as the defeat it was, much to his continued stress. Giving him another two more 'comforting' pats on the shoulder before spinning around, and continuing on her way.

Fuck

Notes:

Hashirama: man... i wish I could just pack up and leave on an impulse trip to the Hatake... but I can't bc Im Senju clan head and as clan head I can't just do stuff like that...
Haruka: lmao good luck running the clan bitch boy I'm going on vacation

 

Haruka is ~42
Tetsuo is ~20

 

Tobirama makes a comment about having started his “real” shinobi training at 5. He and Itama did receive training beforehand, but on a more casual level. 5 is when they began to get one on one attention from their father + chakra lessons.
As spares to the spare (Kawarama being the heir and Hashirama the spare) the twins were afforded a little more wiggle room than their elder brothers to be children when younger— for a time, anyways.
After Kawarama died, they officially became the spares to Hashirama as the new heir. Then Itama died, and the full pressure as the final spare fell to Tobirama

 

Kakashi's motivations for chasing after Tobirama may be a bit unclear so I'll just come out and say it:
Basically, he heard "Tobirama is gonna go out to face (kill) and Uchiha patrol" and went "oh no Tobirama-sama can't kill an Uchiha they're part of the village!!!" And couldn't stand by and watch that happen. Him not listening to Tobirama and throwing himself at Izuna was basically his own attempt at throwing a giant wrench in the entire situation, so Tobirama had to turn around.
Not knowing who Izuna is (aka possibly the only Uchiha Kakashi would be willing to stand by and let die) Kakashi feels incredibly uncomfortable by the idea of any Uchiha dying— they're loyal Konoha nin, after all.
While he hasn't gotten his Obito "friendship is magic" pep talk, Kakashi is still a Konoha shinobi, and isn't exactly going to just stand there while the people he sees as part of the village are killed

 

Pssst, hey, if you wanna know more about Haruka's general character, here are 3 comics that include her in some way
[ONE]   [TWO]   [THREE]

 

Wahh chapter 4 !! In the flesh !! No this is not a drill !!!

I am so happy to be here tbh, you guys are amazing with all of ur nice comments I'm literally gonna explode. Thank you all so so much for your support !!!! I cry over every single comment yall leave me, u guys don't even know how much they mean to me.
We are at 2.8k kudos on this fic and that is INSANE, you guys are INSANE and I love yall, what the fuck even!!

Seriously, thank you everyone who's left comments, I have no words to express how much ur support means to me !!!

Next chapter Kakashi finally gets to meet his grandmother,, I'm sure it'll go great (for him, anyways)

Chapter 5: Kakashi

Summary:

Kakashi squinted, tilting his head. Their silhouette was lit by the dim lantern light at their back, making their features hard to see. But what he could see…

Wild, white hair. A sharp face, etched with deep bags beneath their dark, angular eyes. The faintest scent of wolf and ozone, buried underneath the thick smell of rain.

Kakashi must still be dreaming. That was the only way to explain it, the only possible way to comprehend that standing in front of him was— was—

"Tou...san...?"

A smile broke across his father's face. More lopsided than it should be, crooked grin showing off teeth much sharper than Kakashi remembered.

"Not quite."

Notes:

The fabled Kakashi POV is finally here,,,
First, a nightmare; Then, Haruka

As per usual, this shit is not edited or beta read, so please feel free to point out any errors you spot.
I tend to write via jumping around from different scenes and conversations, then tying them together, so I live in constant fear of leaving a half written scene/conversation to just cut off mid sentence abruptly without any explanation.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️
This chapter starts with a nightmare that includes blood, suicide, and generally what you'd expect from a nightmare about Sakumo. If you don't want to see that, just skip to the first page break.

The clan compound was empty. 

It had always been empty, but never before had that emptiness felt so heavy. Weighing down on Kakashi's small shoulders not too unlike the heavy vest of his father's jonin flak jacket. Something Kakashi had tried on, only once, before finding the weight impossible to move under. 

But it was tighter than that too. Constricting around his chest, squeezing his heart like a cold, clawed hand as the boy made his way through the abandoned fields of Konoha's the Hatake compound. 

Empty, rotting houses lined his way. 

They'd been there for as long as he could remember, but he'd never truly paid them much thought. Their clan had lived in them once. A long, long time ago. So impossibly long ago that Tou-san had been his age. 

Now, here they stood. The silent, empty audience to his funeral procession of one.

Each step forward Kakashi took felt like an eternity. The weight on his shoulders growing heavier and heavier, the feeling of profound abandonment so overwhelming he could nearly taste it. 

A terrible, burning feeling of rope chafing around his neck began to haunt him. An imagined noose drawing tighter around his bird boned neck as he finally step foot onto his own front porch. 

‘I don't want to go in. I don't want to see him again.’ Kakashi thought, desperate.

But no matter how hard he willed himself to leave, to just turn around and go— Still, his feet moved without his permission. 

The rope around his neck tightened, leading him forward like a leash. A criminals parade, drawing him closer and closer to his damnation. 

The front door led straight into the long, familiar hall leading to his father's office. 

All of the windows were gone from the walls. All of the doors that should have been there missing, save for the one, haunting door at the very end of the hall. 

The hall was cast in eerie shadows, haunted by the knowledge of what Kakashi would find at its end. 

‘I don't want to see him again.’

Still, his feet moved. Step by step, the boy trapped in a slow, stiff march towards the sight he was so haunted by.

‘Please,’ Silent tears rolled down the boy's face. ‘Please, I don't want to see him again.’

His hand moved towards the door. 

He could not look to the handle, eyes locked into staring straight forward into the shadowed wood of his fathers office door. Hot tears flowing in a steady stream, dripping from his chin. 

‘Please—’

The room was bathed in light. 

Birds chirped outside. A pleasant breeze coming in through the open window. 

Red pooled in the tatami mats. 

Sunlight gleamed off of his fathers tano. Glinting in a distracting way that caught Kakashi's eyes.

The pool of blood grew larger. Inch by slow inch. 

Kakashi could smell ink. The scent of fresh grass. The faint, tingling smell of ozone that always hovered around his father like lightning poised to strike. 

Kakashi's father was hunched in on himself on the floor.

Wind chimes sang ever so faintly outside, a cascade of delicate chiming in time with the wind. Birds joining in its gentle song. 

Kakashi could smell blood. Cloying and sticky. Filling his mouth and lungs until he could taste it.

The noose around Kakashi's neck pulled him further forward. Dragging his feet through a pool of red that still seeped larger and larger into the floor.

He could feel the blood, splashing hot against his toes. 

His hand moved without permission. Reaching out to his fathers corpse. Finding a perch on his shoulder, rolling him over to better see his dying expression. 

The blank face of Senju Tobirama stared back at him. 

 

---

 

Tobirama woke up to a strong flare of chakra close by. 

He reached out, on high alert after so many years training in how to snap out of any sleep haze to be ready for an attack. But there was no attack to find. Only the small, sputtering spark of Kakashi a room over from his. 

Newly awake. And… scared? 

Reading one's chakra was not a foolproof way to truly guess what emotions one was experiencing. With enough skill and practice, you could get close to something of that effect— but its strengths would forever lie in simply telling how tightly wound or relaxed someone was in the moment. 

And Kakashi seemed… concerningly tightly wound at present. 

A nightmare, no doubt. Tobirama was familiar by now with how those tended to register in his chakra senses. Most sensors were. 

Tobirama gave the boy a moment, waiting to see what he did. 

It would be a bit troublesome if he came to Tobirama for some sort of comfort after his bad dream. Tobirama was terrible at knowing what to say when it came to those things— but he'd try. 

It looked like Tobirama didn’t have to worry much about it though, as Kakashi made no move to leave his bed. The spark of chakra right across the wall from Tobirama staying relatively still, beyond some slight shifts. 

Still, his chakra continued to spark and waver. The boy's state seeming to growing worse despite now being awake. 

…No matter how badly Tobirama might be with trying to talk a child through a nightmare, or how awkward he found even thinking about the situation— he couldn't live with himself, if he just left it there.

Tobirama slid out from his sheets, running a hand through his hair as he righted himself. 

Away from the warm quilts of his futon, the cool air of his room nipped sharply at his skin. Making him pause to pull on the coat draped across a chair, before making his way from his room. 

Tobirama rapped a knuckles against the door of Kakashi's room. Beyond the wall, he felt that mark of chakra flair up, surprised. 

“Kakashi? May I enter?” 

Silence. 

Well, he'd tried. 

Tobirama stood there for a few moments longer, giving Kakashi a chance to change his mind on replying or not. After some beats had passed, the man sighed, turning to leave— 

“Tobirama-sama?” The boy's voice was so quiet Tobirama nearly missed it. 

“It’s me. May I enter?” 

“...Ok.”

Cracking the door open, Tobirama found Kakashi huddled up on the bed, staring down at his lap. 

“What's wrong?” The boy asked, for some reason seeming unable to look Tobirama's way. 

‘I think that's supposed to be my line.’

“Your nightmare woke me.” 

“O-Oh—” Kakashi turned shamefaced. “You… felt that?” 

Tobirama sighed as he slowly made his way over, coming to sit at the edge of the bed. “There's little I don't feel.” 

Kakashi fiddled with the sheets, still unable to look Tobirama in the eye. After a pause, he mumbled, “Sorry.” 

Tobirama cocked his head. “Don't be.” 

Both of them descended into silence. 

“...Would you like to talk about it?” 

Kakashi shook his head. 

“...Would you like a hug?” 

Shoulders hunching and head ducking down even lower, Kakashi shook his head again. 

‘Possibly too embarrassed to accept. Ask again later, then.’ 

“...A distraction, then? Something to do?” 

Tentatively, Kakashi shrugged.

‘Well.'

Tobirama glanced out the window, measuring how far the moon was in the sky. 

‘It will be sunrise in an hour or two anyways. Might as well begin with today's chores.’

“Come along then, Kakashi. I'm sure we can find something to do.” 

 

---

 

It was raining when Hatake Haruka arrived at the Senju compound.

Tobirama, had he been awake, would have sensed her some miles out. But the man was dead asleep, having finally collapsed after a hard day's work of not only his regular clan duties but also plenty of babysitting. Children, though he did like them, remained exhausting to deal with long term. And Kakashi was certainly an exhausting child to watch, no matter how well behaved he tried to be.

And so Haruka approached the Senju compound unseen— sky booming with the ominous crash of thunder, as if the weather itself was there to herald her arrival.

As she grew closer, the woman dismounted from the back of a staggeringly tall wolf. The summon was quick to get out of the rain via desummoning himself as soon as his contractor's feet hit the ground. His only an annoyed chuff and flick of his tail given in goodbye.

She chose to see it as a wish for luck, and chuckled as she adjusted her hood, approaching the house on quick feet. Eager to escape the rain, but even more so to finally see the boy she'd traveled so far for.

She made quick work of the remaining distance, and then even quicker work of the door— pounding on it with a heavy hand that was sure to wake up the whole household if she wasn't soon stopped.

Hashirama, a light sleeper and room closest to the front door, was the first to wake. He struggled out of bed with a frantic confusion, a sense of dread crawling up his spine. For someone to be knocking at his door so fiercely, in such a storm and in the dead of night at that— surely something must have happened that required his attention as clan head.

As he hurried to the door, calling out, "Coming! Coming!" he reached out to his plants. They didn't help him much, their whispered conversations nothing but talk of the sweet rain that pooled at their roots.

"Who's there, leaflets?" Hashirama asked anyway, scrambling down the hallway.

"Stranger," they whispered. "Strong and stubborn— feels like an oak. They crackle like the sky, and taste like rain."

A stranger? It could simply be someone his plants had never met before, or someone who hasn't left enough of an impression for his plants to care to remember.

Right as he reached the door, the very moment he twisted the knob to open it, he heard the faint whisper of one of the great trees that had stood outside their home since he'd been a boy. A warning too late, given right Hashirama realized it himself.

"The wolf woman has returned .”

The door opened to the figure of a woman. Tall, taller even than Hashirama by some inches, with broad shoulders and a sharp, wide smile on her face. Lighting continued to strike in the sky behind her, highlighting her silhouette in luminous silver.

Hashirama froze as dark eyes met his own. His brain struggled to catch up with the reality of the fact that his aunt was there , in the flesh, standing on his porch.

Somehow, beneath the white noised struggle to comprehend her presence there, he couldn't find it in him to be all that surprised. Then again, the shock might have been buried in the mess of tangled emotions that was fighting for dominance in his chest. So far, alarm seemed to be winning out over all the others.

Haruka beamed at him, not paying much mind to his clear shock. "Nephew mine, I hear you've found me quite the surprise!"

Hashirama continued to stare blankly up at his aunt, hand still on the doorknob. Truly struck dumb for what felt like the first time in years. 

"Um."

Haruka's grin turned tilted as she raised an eyebrow. "I'd apologize for the late hour, but I think I'll ask to be out of the rain first, if you'll permit?"

"Right, yes, of course, I— Haruka! You're... here!"

"And with only a week of travel! That has to break some record, doesn't it?" Haruka brushed past Hashirama, shaking out her long, wild hair like a dog, spraying the floor in water. She at least had the grace to do so in the opposite direction of Hashirama to avoid splashing him— inadvertently giving him the chance to compose himself 

A week —!? From here to Iron country, in only a week ? !! To do that, she must have run at a dead sprint the whole way through, all while somehow managing to avoid at least most of the usual mandatory checks through the countless different territories along the way.

"Um, right. Of course." Hashirama said a bit dumbly, before forcefully shaking himself. "I mean— Haruka! It's so good to see you! I... I  didn't realize you would come!"

"How could I not?" Haruka gave Hashirama a firm pat on the shoulder. "Getting such an unexpected message from one of my favorite nephews!" They were her only nephews, but he'd take it! He'd so take it! "Nothing in the world could keep me away!"

"I, uh, yeah, of course!" Hashirama, trying not to stumble over his words too badly, cleared his throat. "I only thought you might send word first, or... something."

"And ruin the surprise?" Haruka winked, releasing his shoulder. "How could I, when you gave me such a surprise yourself?"

A shuffle from the hall had both of them turning to look as Tobirama rounded the corner. Hair rumpled from sleep and looking torn between disbelief and exasperation.

If Haruka had beamed to see Hashirama, she glowed when met with Tobirama's bedraggled face. Making a bee line straight for him and clapping his shoulders.

"Tobirama, it's been too long. You look more and more like your mother every time I see you, you know."

Despite his poorly tamed wrath at being awakened so suddenly, Tobirama couldn't help but give a small smile in return.

"Haruka." Tobirama himself couldn't quite place his tone of voice— somewhere between tired surprise and almost fond ' I really should have expected this.' exasperation. "I thought I had to be still dreaming, when I felt your chakra."

Haruka cackled, pulling Tobirama into a hug. One that had him pulling away quickly, making a disgruntled face at the woman's rain soaked layers.

Haruka pouted theatrically as Tobirama quickly ran through the hand signs to dry himself. "Too old to give your poor, ailing auntie a hug, are you?"

"When she's not drenched, maybe."

Hashirama hovered awkwardly behind them, hands clasped as he tried to think of anything to say. He drew on a blank though, and so simply didn't. Remaining awkwardly standing there, wishing he knew how to insert himself into the conversation.

"Ah, so cruel to me. You really are just like your mother." Haruka joked, patting Tobirama on the cheek.

Tobirama rolled his eyes, but permitted the touch— which was as good as if he'd leaned into it, for him.

Haruka retracted her hand, looking back to Hashirama with an eager smile. "Greetings out of the way, I hear you've found someone a bit too familiar for comfort?"

"Yes, Kakashi. He's, well, you'll just have to see him. The resemblance is..."

"Striking." Tobirama finished for his brother, and Hashirama nodded. "Alarmingly so, to be honest."

"Well, I can promise you he's not mine. I may have had a wild night or thirty in my youth, but I don't think I could find a wine on earth that would make me forget giving birth."

"You'll excuse me if I had doubts." Tobirama said dryly, and Haruka clicked her tongue.

"You think so little of me, nephew. If I were so lucky as to get pregnant, I can promise you I'd be shouting it from the rooftops, not drinking to forget."

"And I'm sure the world itself would tremble in fear to hear it."

Haruka gave a bright bark of laughter. "It had better!"

Tobirama paused, head tilting towards the hall. His sudden stillness gaining him the full attention of both his brother and aunt.

"He's awake." He announced simply, and something in Haruka seemed to sharpen. A pot of expectations close to bubbling over, the  simmering well of excitement in her heart all but ready to blow.

"Well," Hashirama, suddenly feeling bold, nudged his aunt. "Are you ready to see your newest nephew?"

"Only so long as you both aren't scared he'll take your place, having stolen my heart forever."

"Impossible, we both know Tobirama already stole it when he was born."

"He's heading this way." Tobirama interrupted.

"Oh—! Should we...?" Hashirama blinked as Haruka brushed past him towards the hall, eyes wild with excitement.

"Which way?"

 

---

 

Kakashi stumbled down the dark hallway, one hand on the wall while the other rubbed sleepily at his eyes.

He could see well enough in the dark, but his eyes were bleary and mind foggy from sleep. Enough so that he squinted, fumbling his way towards the soft lantern glow at the end of the hall.

Down the hall, hushed voices grew louder. It had been hard to hear at first, over the cracking of thunder outside. But he'd eventually been jolted awake by a familiar, booming laugh that had instantly set his nerves alight with memories of his father.

He was sure it must have just been his imagination. But still, he slipped from his bed. Following the noise down the hall and towards where he could hear the Senju brothers speaking with some third, unknown person.

It was a woman, he thought, though it was hard to tell as the voice was deep and androgynous. A gravely, happy voice that had a purr to it, reminding Kakashi of laying on his father's chest and feeling the rumble of his voice against his cheek as tou-san told him stories. Safe and warm, in his father's arms.

The sleepy familiarity in him swelled as Kakashi came to a slow stop in the middle of the hall. Hand falling away from his bleary eyes as his head tilted up to better see the figure turning around the corner.

Kakashi squinted, tilting his head. Their silhouette was lit by the dim lantern light at their back, making their features hard to see. But what he could see…

Wild, white hair. A sharp face, etched with deep bags beneath their dark, angular eyes. The faintest scent of wolf and ozone buried underneath the thick smell of rain.

Kakashi must still be dreaming. That was the only way to explain it, the only possible way to comprehend that standing in front of him was— was—

"Tou...san...?"

A smile broke across his father's face. More lopsided than it should be, crooked grin showing off teeth much sharper than Kakashi remembered.

"Not quite."

He— She— Who—?

Kakashi took a stumbling step backwards as the figure crouched to better get on his level. The light now spilling over their shoulder, no longer blinding Kakashi to their features but instead  casting half of their face into heavy shadow as the other half was illuminated properly.

Her, properly.

This... wasn't his father. Abruptly, he felt stupid. Stupid and silly and pathetic , for daring to imagine this stranger as his father. But she...

She...

She looked so much like him.

"Now there's an expression." The woman crooned, tilting her head to the side as her smile turned all the more close to something sweet . "Hello puppy, don't be too scared now. I'm Haruka, and I'm very excited to finally meet you."

Haru...ka...?

So this was— She was—

Kakashi's eyes flicked across her face, drinking in all he could see. A sharp, thin nose; Drooping, heavy lidded eyes; Thin brows and angular lips, a beauty mark right above her lip to match the one below Kakashi's; Overwhelmingly tall, even as she was crouched on the floor to be closer to his level. 

It was then, without a shadow of a doubt, that every single thing in him understood with absolute certainty— this was his father's own mother.

His own tiny hand came away from the wall, drifting up to where the beauty mark below his lip rested. The one that matched hers; His grandmother.

"I don't suppose my silly nephews have told you much about me, have they? Or have they left you in suspense?"

Hesitantly, Kakashi gave a shy, barely there shrug. He had wanted to ask about her, more about her, but he hadn't known how. His days had already been filled with so much, it was easy to let his questions slip away to ask later in all the noise.

"Mm, suspense then. How cruel of them. I suppose they thought they'd tell you more once I told them I was on my way. Little did they know, I decided to give them some suspense of their own."

Haruka's grin widened into something wicked as she winked. The expression so achingly similar to his fathers own face that it made Kakashi's heart give an ugly lurch in his chest. 

It was all too much for him to bear— His father's familiar smile set into the crooked face of a safe-smelling grandmother he'd never known. Kakashi took a stumbling step forward. Then, another. Closing the distance between them as Haruka cocked her head, still smiling.

"Oh—!"

Kakashi thrust himself into his grandmother's waiting arms, clumsy hands reaching around to try and hug her just as he had a thousand times his father. Nose pressing into the warm cloth of her shirt, tiny arms too small to wrap all the way around her chest.

If he closed his eyes, if he just breathed— it really did feel like he was little again. Safe in his father's strong arms, not a single thing on earth able to take him away.

As Haruka let out a soft laugh, wrapping her arms around him, Kakashi couldn't help but think that maybe... he really was still dreaming.

Then again, he was pretty sure if he was dreaming, she wouldn't be so... wet .

"You... smell." Kakashi mumbled into the wet fur around her neck. Then, the boy turned bright red. Mortified that these were his first, real words to the grandmother he'd never met before.

Haruka cackled, throwing her head back as she hugged Kakashi all the more closely.

"Of course I do! I've been traveling for a whole week now, fast as I can, just to get to you!"

"Oh." Kakashi said dumbly, and allowed himself to be manhandled.

"I really don't know why I thought you'd send a letter before arriving." Tobirama sighed from above her shoulder.

Wait, Tobirama—!? How long had he been there!? Hopefully not the whole time, that would be… embarrassing. Very, very embarrassing. But at least Hashirama hadn’t…?

The man himself sighed, appearing next to his younger brother. “A lesson well learned, I guess.” 

Kakashi ignored how damp his grandmother's fur was, opting to burrow his face further into it rather than let the adults see how red his face suddenly burned.

It had nothing to do, he assured himself, with how safe he felt in her arms. Nor how similar her scent was to his fathers.

"I haven't the faintest clue, nephew mine! Really, you think you'd know better by now." Haruka teased, though she didn't bother to look back at Tobirama as she did it— eyes still glued on Kakashi's hair where it peeked out from her chest. 

Carefully, Haruka placed a hand in Kakashi’s hair. This, too, made his heart ache with memories of his fathers familiar, heavy hand on his head. "Can I ask your name, pup?"

"You already know it though, don't you?" Kakashi mumbled, still embarrassed.

"I do, but you didn't give it to me, now did you?" Haruka grinned as Kakashi pulled back ever so slightly, enough for him to eye her shyly. "I want to meet you properly."

"I'm Kakashi, Ha— Obaa— Err—"

Haruka laughed as Kakashi visibly struggled with what to call her.

"Call me only Haruka, pup. That, or auntie. You'll make me feel old otherwise, or worse— formal. "

"Haruka..." The name sounded odd, in Kakashi's ears. Wrong, knowing who she truly was to him. But right, knowing that he could call her anything at all.

"There you go, not too hard, hmm?"

“I guess.” Kakashi mumbled, unable to meet her eyes even as he slowly pulled back. 

“You do look quite similar to my own dashing good looks, don’t you?” Haruka crooned, taking advantage of Kakashi pulling back to cup his face in one of her hands. “But with such a cute mask in the way, I really can’t quite tell. I was told we’re nearly identical, hm?” 

“It took us both by some surprise.” Hashirama commented, leaning over to get a better look at the boy.

“‘Some’ might be putting it mildly.” Tobirama chuffed, quietly mimicking his brother’s position over Haruka’s opposite shoulder.

Kakashi continued to avoid looking at any of them, suddenly very taken by the floor as Haruka continued to hold his face in a gentle hand.

"Can I see your face, pup?"

"...Promise not to be mad?"

"Now why would I ever be mad?" Haruka asked, and Kakashi shrugged.

"Tobirama-sama and Hashirama were weird when they saw me. I don't want you to... Um..."

"We were only surprised at the resemblance, Kakashi." Hashirama tried to soothe, and Kakashi's shoulders hiked up even higher.

Haruka smoothed the spikes of Kakashi's hair down, and the boy had to fight not to lean into the comforting motion. "I promise not to be mad. I swear, even. I swear to you on my brother's grave, may the lightning in my veins leave me if I lie."

Hashirama... hadn't been aware that she had a brother, let alone the grave of one to swear by. But he didn't dwell on the fact, as Kakashi gave a small, shy nod.

Haruka’s smile grew as the boy granted permission, turning encouraging as he slowly reached up to tug his mask down. 

Then, her smile froze. 

As if slow motion, Haruka slowly raised a finely trembling hand up to cup Kakashi’s face. Her eyes flitted across Kakashi’s face, wide and wild as she drank in the oh so familiar sight. 

Never before, had she truly understood the phrase of feeling someone walk across one’s grave. But staring at this boy, it felt like her every vein was suddenly alight. The hair on the back of her neck standing up, the woman shaken to her core.

"Oh." 

Kakashi lowered his eyes, unable to make eye contact as Haruka brushed her thumb along his cheek. An embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks as his grandmother eyed him so intently.

"You look just like—" Haruka's voice trembled as her words cut off.

'Me.' Hashirama heard— but behind him, Tobirama, who knew their aunt better, frowned.

“Who was your father, pup? What was his name?” Haruka whispered, voice strained with something impossible to define. 

Kakashi bit his lip, an all too familiar action that made Haruka feel like she was close to tears. 

Even knowing he probably shouldn't say it, that it might break something, Kakashi couldn't help but let slip out a quiet, wistful, “His name was Sakumo. He… looked a lot like you.” 

“Sakumo.”  Haruka breathed. “He must have—” Her voice cut off with an uncharacteristic crack. 

“You suspect you know him then?” Tobirama asked, cautious of his aunts unfamiliar vulnerability. 

“Teruko.” Haruka said the name leaving her lips like a half whispered prayer. “You are the spitting image of my Teruko. My— My brother.” 

A sudden feeling of guilt began to settle on Kakashi’s shoulders. “Your… brother?” 

"My brother.” Haruka confirmed, voice heavy. “He died in a very bad place, to some very bad people, because I wasn't strong enough to protect him. Or— I thought he did. But I never... I never saw the body, did I? I always thought they fed him to— No, because if you're here..."

The guilt weighing heavy on Kakashi's shoulders only grew, spurred on by the tender look his grandmother aimed at him, seeing the apparent ghost of her brother in him where she shouldn't. 

 "I don't think he was my dad. And— And Tou-san, he's... He's dead now anyways." Kakashi hastily tried to argue, but Haruka wasn't hearing it. 

“He must have changed his name. Or, hit his head and forgotten us or something. It's the only way I can imagine he wouldn't have come home— But, he's dead, you say?”

Kakashi opened his mouth to reply, fully ready to tell the truth— that his father had died on his own blade. Only, as he stared up into the sad eyes of of his grandmother, he found that the words would not pass his lips. He closed his mouth then opened it again, only for the same thing to happen and the words to once again escape him. 

Finally, he nodded. Silent and sullen. 

A look of overwhelming grief overtook Haruka’s face, the woman bowing her head as some invisible weight she carried seem to double.

Kakashi’s feeling of guilt did much of the same.

“Ahh… no matter how fast I am, I always seem to be too late, hm, Teruko?” She whispered. “You know, out of the three of us, we always thought I'd be the first to go. Now look at me, still going strong without you.” 

Haruka shook her head, a rueful smile on her face. “‘Lucky triplets’ they said. Sometimes I really do wonder if me and oneesan ended up taking all of that luck for ourselves.” 

“I thought you and mother were twins?” Hashirama blurted. Casting both Haruka and Tobirama a confused, almost hurt look. His surprise was echoed on Tobirama’s face, his younger brother seeming just as confused as Hashirama was, as he too looked Haruka’s way.

“I do not enjoy talking of the period of my youth that brought Teruko to his grave.“ Haruka said in a tone of voice that gave little way for argument. “And you will find none among the Hatake who do.” 

Sudden understanding flickered across Tobirama’s face, before it was carefully ironed out into his usual cool mask. “Of course. Our apologies.” 

Hashirama gave his brother a bewildered look, and Tobirama returned it with the faintest twitch of his head that said ‘later.’

“That doesn’t matter now. None of it does, does it?” Haruka’s thumb brushed across Kakashi’s cheek, the boy closing one of his eyes as her sharp nail grew close. “Because you’re here now, aren’t you Kakashi? And I’m so happy you’ve come home.” 

The boy let out a soft whimper as Haruka drew him closer into her arms. Head tucking into her neck, once again enveloped by the familiar smell that was all too similar to his fathers.

“How old are you, pup?” Haruka asked, pulling back with a sudden current of excitement in her.

“Six…?” Kakashi replied, confused at the turn in their conversation. 

“And had Teruko taught you how to howl yet?”

Kakashi had to bite his lip not to correct his grandmother on his fathers name. Instead, he shook his head hesitantly as Tobirama let out a soft, “Oh.” of realization.

“Well then, it looks like I’m right on time.”

---

 

The rain had faded into a gentle drizzle by now. More of a mist than anything close to a downpour, the storm having largely passed. The night sky’s clouds had parted, letting the full moon breathe at last. Its pale rays beaming down onto the newly wet world, reflecting off the fresh droplets of rain that decorated every leaf and blade of grass like a thousand sparkling lights. 

But Kakashi had no eyes at all for the pretty sight, the young boy’s attention taken up entirely as Haruka carefully showed him the proper hand seals to make. Kakashi copied her flawlessly— probably could have even if he hadn't been paying such careful attention, with how easy the signs she showed him were. 

“It’s a simple theory. I can tell you already know how to circle your chakra through your limbs, and this is just that, but focusing more on your organs instead. Just like you might toughen up your limbs to be stronger, we channel our chakra around our lungs and vocal chords.” Haruka explained, guiding his hands. 

“Eventually, just like you do when strengthening your body, you'll be able to do this without any hand signs at all. Some Hatake use it just to howl, but others turn it into a proper weapon. Consider it our secret clan technique.”  

Kakashi flushed at that, suddenly impossibly more intent on his hands, eyes narrowed in focus. 

Standing back some twenty paces, the Senju brothers watched on from the porch. 

“It's tradition,” Tobirama muttered to his brother, eyes locked on Kakashi as he tried not to feel too nostalgic watching the scene. “The clan head is supposed to teach their youngest to howl once they turn six.” 

“I suppose she really was right on time then.” Hashirama joked, though his heart wasn't in it. Mind still occupied by the heavy, confusing tone of the night and the new mysteries they'd brought him.

“Mm.” Tobirama replied, much the same as his brother.

“Do you use it as a weapon?” Kakashi asked Haruka curiously, and the woman grinned.

“Of course! With enough practice and chakra, you can use it as a blade of sound. Or, if you're feeling especially violent, a hammer. There are plenty of techniques to adapt off of it— and how could I be our clan head, if I can't even use one of our finest weapons?” 

“I'll be sure to master all of the techniques.” Kakashi nodded in serious understanding, making Haruka chuckle.

“I’m sure you will. And it's worth more than just that too, you know. If you're ever lost, under attack, need help, or have message to send; All you need to do is howl, and if there's a Hatake nearby they'll come running. It's our distress beacon, a rallying cry, a way to find home. So, if you ever get into trouble, I'll need you to start howling as loud as you can, you hear?”

“Yes, auntie.” Kakashi replied dutifully, and Haruka ruffled his hair.

“Good boy. And you know, it's fun too! We make a big contest out of it on the regular— I'll have you know that I'm the ten times reigning champion of strongest howl !” 

“Are there other kinds of howls?” 

“Of course! Let's see, you have prettiest howl, that usually goes to Tamika; Longest howl, which is usually up in the air but I believe Tetsuo has a shoe in for it this year; Most haunting, which always goes to Tsuki, of course. I don't think anyone even competes against him in that anymore…”

Kakashi watched Haruka with wide eyes, trying to take in all of the unfamiliar names as she continued to list them. It dawned on him, perhaps for the first time, that he had actual clan members in this era. People, real people, with names and faces and histories. Who lived and played together and held contests to see who could howl the best.  

“Are… there a lot of Hatake?” 

“Probably not as many as you might be thinking.” Haruka chuckled. “But yes, there are quite a few of us. And they'll be delighted to meet you, Kakashi.”

“Did…” Kakashi hesitated, feeling as if it was wrong to ask, to play into the lie, but he couldn't help but wonder. “Did any of them know Teruko? I mean, tou-san.” 

“Two of them.” Haruka’s eyes went a bit distant. “One, me and Teru met together in that place. I don't know if he’d remember Teru very much, our time there was… extensive, and he had his own horrors to deal with. The other though, of course. We grew up together— I think you might have some things in common with him actually. He still wears a puppy mask, just like you.” 

Haruka reached out to tap her finger against Kakashi's nose with a smile. Making the boy cross his eyes to squint at the finger.

“Puppy mask?” Kakashi asked, confused, and Haruka blinked.

“Your mask. I assumed you wear it because of your senses?”

Kakashi blinked back up at her, an identical expression of surprise now written on his face. “I-I do, my nose is really strong, so…” 

“Exactly that. Enhanced senses are part of our bloodline limit, but every once in a while you'll get one of us who's senses are so good it can be a weakness. Like my friend. His nose is so sensitive that he wears a puppy mask even in his old age. Or, one of the younger boys who's eyes are so light sensitive he usually keeps them mostly closed. Even our own Tobirama has some of his own issues with it.”

“Tobirama-sama? Really?” 

“Where do you think he gets those incredible chakra sensing abilities of his?” Haruka quirked a brow. “It's a result of how our bloodline limit mixed with the Senju. It's quite fascinating really, I've never known a Hatake to have their sensor abilities amplified, but it is considered one of the senses, so I can see how it came about.”

Kakashi cast a glance back at Tobirama, still watching from the porch. Tobirama gave a small nod of acknowledgement at the silent question, making Kakashi’s eyes widen. 

“So he really is so strong because he's a Hatake?” Kakashi mumbled, absolutely internalizing this new knowledge, and Haruka cackled. 

“Well, I fear we probably can't take all the credit, but it is a nice thought!” 

“The Senju are plenty strong too.” Tobirama sighed, though his lip twitched upwards. 

Besides him, Hashirama stuck out his tongue. “They sure are, so don't discount us too fast!” 

Kakashi jolted, embarrassed to be called out so quickly by the men he admired. “R-right! Of course.” 

“So many distractions tonight!” Haruka complained, though it was said playfully, a wide smile still pasted across her face. “The cicadas sure are loud here.” 

Kakashi sent her a confused glance. He couldn't hear any cicadas, but maybe she had better hearing than him? 

Hashirama pouted, knocking shoulders with Tobirama as he leaned into his brother's space. “So rude to us, and in our own home too. 

Tobirama sniffed.  “You say that but all I can see is how much you resemble each other.” 

Hashirama gasped in offence. “Excuse me, I don't think it's me here who resembles her in her disrespect!” 

“I get my disrespect from mother, actually.” 

Hashirama opened his mouth, then closed it. “Well. I can't really argue with that.” 

Tobirama snorted. 

“Ignore them,” Haruka smiled, catching Kakashi’s attention. “How do you feel on your hand signs, are you ready to try?” 

“Obviously.” He'd been ready for minutes now. Did she really expect him to need so much time for such a basic technique? 

“Good. Follow my lead, and circle your chakra.” 

Kakashi did as instructed, going through the motions to begin circling his chakra. It was so easy, he would almost be insulted at how much focus was being put on it if he wasn't so excited. 

“Feel it swell in your lungs. Keep focus on your throat, to avoid tearing something.”

Carefully, he directed his chakra to his lungs. Feeling them strengthen, his throat coated in chakra, reinforced and strong. He took in a breath, feeling the noise begin to swell in his chest.

“And howl.” 

 

---

 

Izuna prided himself on being a light sleeper. 

It was a mark of a good shinobi to remain aware and vigilant of ones surroundings, even in sleep. Especially in sleep. And just as Izuna excelled in every other aspect of being a shinobi, in this too he was more than just talented. More than one assassination attempt had failed because of his ability to snap awake in a split second, be it in enemy territory or in his own bed.

But, if there was one thing that put him to sleep like no other, it was the familiar thundering of heavy rain beating against the walls of his room. Something about the drumbeats of raindrops, the distant crack of thunder, it made him pass out so hard it sometimes worried his brother. 

Though he would admit, this storm was a bit much even for his tastes. 

Izuna frowned, watching out his window as the storm finally seemed to wind down. He hoped the winds hadn't damaged anything too important, but doubted their luck would be so good. 

As he debated returning to bed, knowing the coming morning would be a long one, a distant sound caught his ear. A slow rising call of…

A wolf?

Izuna paused. A sudden chill passed over him as he tried to focus on the sound, telling himself he must be mistaken.

But no, that was most certainly a howl. The howl of not one, but two wolves. One much stronger than the other, taking the lead in their intertwining song as if guiding a child by the hand. 

There was a full moon out. It only made sense that the wolves might sing to it after such a brutal storm. Maybe they were calling to each other, separated by the storm. Though there was one single, simple issue with that; 

There were no wolves in Fire country.  

A bead of cold sweat traced Izuna’s spine. Hair standing on end as a feeling of dread washed over him. 

He opened the sliding door of his room with a snap, hurrying down the hall with heavy footsteps he did not care enough to make soft. As he passed by his brother's room, he heard a soft thump and faint unhappy grumble, where he had no doubt his brother was trying to block out his noise, as well as the noise of the world at large.

Izuna reached the front door and opened it with another quick snap, the sound of rain greeting his ears like an old friend. But besides that, besides the rain, besides the faint chirping of cicadas, beside the rustle of wind and leaves, beside it all, above it all—

In the distance, way across the river that stood between them, the howls sang ever on towards the moon. 

Fuck.

Notes:

NEW CHAPTER REAL NOT CLICKBAIT !!!!! Sorry this took so long to come out, but like !!! We're here now !!! Yippie !!! You guys have left me so many incredibly kind comments, I really can't emphasize how grateful I am to everyone for every single comment u give, it's kind of blown my mind how well received this silly fic of mine is

 

On Haruka and Hashirama
I do think Haruka loves Hashirama, she just also plays some serious favorites and doesn't bother to hide it, bc shes just not the type of woman who'd bother with that.
Haruka is many, many things and unfortunately for those around her "blunt and honest to the point of occasional cruelty" is one of them.
Tobirama reminds her very much of her dead twin sister, both in personality and appearance. He is The Favorite(tm) for sure, and she's never bothered to hide that. It's done good things for Tobirama— who often feels disconnected from the Senju, and who's been able to lean on and find comfort in that clear love and favoritism in the past. But it still affects Hashirama, who, especially as a child, remained jealous and confused as to why he couldn't be loved in the same way.

 

The Hatake Triplets
So. Haruka was originally in a set of triplets, consisting of her, Kosuke (Tobirama + Hashirama's mom) and their brother, Teruko. But in their youth, Haruka and Teruko were captured by bloodline hunters and put in a camp known as the dog pound. Teruko died only a year into their stay there, but Haruka survived and went on to destroy the place with what remained of the Hatake + some allied clans who were also being preyed on by the pound.
Now, Haruka is assuming Teruko must have somehow escaped and survived; and that he must be Kakashi's father. Obviously that's wrong and Teruko is in fact super mega dead, but that's the only explanation she can think of. It's also depressingly plausible.
Im sure she'll be fine and won't have any complicated feelings about the brother she failed having survived only to never come back to her, and to have ended up dead anyways before she could see him again. She's so normal about all this you guys, I promise.

 

Tamika
There's a brief mention in this chapter of one Hatake Tamika; an oc who belongs to @imsosleepyofyourbull on Tumblr. Thank u Sleepy for donating ur awesome oc to my Wolves of the Woods timeline!!! I love her so dearly

 

Chapter 6(?!)
I wanna,,, continue this,,,, I have Thoughts And Plans(tm) that resemble an actual plot.
So like. Cautiously adding another chapter to the count. Keep an eye out for the "Kakashi learns more about the Hatake" chapter and also the "Kakashi convinces Tobirama to kidnap Hikaku and host him as a political prisoner to pressure the Uchiha into peace talks" chapter.
Mostly that second one tbh. That's the plot one.
I want,,, outsider POV Hikaku on Kakashi and Hatake / Senju things,,,,,,,, I need it ,, hrrg,,

 

THIS FIC HAS FANART NOW HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU GUYS!!!!!!!!!!!! EVERYONE GO LOOK AT IT IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD IM CRYING JUST THINKING ABOUT IT!!! ITS LITERALLY SO GOOD ITS CRAZY

Thank you everyone so so much for all of ur incredible comments!!! Im so happy to be here, and u can expect me back w more chapters. Eventually. Soon, hopefully, but I don't wanna jinx it

Thank you for reading !!!!

Notes:

No one ask me if I'm gonna continue this, there's a sliiiight chance I will but also I really dunno. It's been sitting in my drafts for a little bit and I sort of hit a wall with how to go to the next potential scene, and eventually I just kinda said "Ah fuck it, I'd rather put out what I have so far then let it rot in my notes app for a month"

Anyways, catch me on tumblr @oh-no-its-bird

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of Wolves of the Woods