Chapter Text
Warm.
It’s warm and it’s wet and thick.
That’s all Kakashi can think as he presses his hand against the hole that’s gone right through his flak jacket and into the flesh behind it. His own blood feels warm and syrupy as it continues to saturate his gear.
“Khhh-...khhuuhh…” He wheezes.
Judging by the way his chest feels with each breath, the wound has punctured his lung.
It’s bad.
Fatal? Maybe.
The trees are familiar. He knows his particular trail. Only the subtle signs of usage tell him where he is.
…and he’s still 3 hours away from the village gates.
The chakra-charged paper-bird he’d sent wouldn’t make it in time.
“Khuuuhhh…khuuuh…” He stops, gaze going to his blood-soaked boots.
He can see the outline of every toe of his left foot and even make out the grooves of his toenails with how deep his own blood has soaked into his skin. His hand almost loses purchase on the tree he’s leaning against, trying not to double over in pain.
It’s not hot anymore.
He’s cold.
Thud-...!
The grass is soft. The sun is bright. The leaves look gorgeous as the light filters through them. How many times has he seen such a sight after a nap?
‘A nap…’
‘….a nap would be a terrible idea right now.’
He can’t give in.
“Hh-?!” He turns on his side, a spark of adrenaline bringing him onto his toes in a crouch.
Sssfft-...
‘Who-?!’ Kakashi’s ears are burning cold as he tries to see whomever it is that’s just stopped a short distance away from him.
Pale legs–lithe. A child? No, just slightly taller–an adolescent? One of his pursuers?
No…no killing intent. ‘But still-!’
“Gh-?!” Kakashi finds his arms failing him as he tries to maneuver a kunai between himself and the approaching individual.
‘No good…’ He thinks bitterly, the kunai slipping out of his wet grip. He’s lost too much blood.
“That looks awful…” The voice is delicate, but it’s not without steel behind it.
A woman…?
Shk-!
The kunai manages to fall perfectly angled down, embedding itself into the soil.
Green, brown, golden light–it all blurs as the world spins around him.
He’s on his back again.
‘I can’t move…my joints–it’s cold–someone…there's someone here…’ Kakashi’s own wheezing is loud in his ears.
Dark. His vision is dark around the edges–tunneling like he’s sinking into the night itself. The beautiful komorebi is fading out.
Schfht-...
The sound his blood-soaked flak jacket makes as it's bunched up is distant.
“Hk-?!” Kakashi’s fingers twitch as he tries to lift his less injured hand.
It's warm. Very warm. The hands touching the deep gashes on his side and the puncture at his ribs are so, so warm…
It smells like the ocean, he realizes.
“U-uh…” he strains to see the silhouette above him.
Colors fail him. But he can tell her hair is light. She's pale and the lines and curves of her features are soft but firm.
Clothes…no good. Just a loose white shirt with something printed on the front. But he can't read it.
‘What…-’ Kakashi’s mind spins in confusion as he feels the tickle of hair strands against his face. The smooth feeling of skin and the distinct shape of a nose slides along the bridge of his own.
She’s sniffing him?
‘Salt spray…’ he thinks as his heartbeat becomes louder. He can smell her too–even with his eyesight growing dark, his nose had always been one of his sharpest assets.
The delicate palms that smear the blood across his wounds should hurt but instead–...it feels…good. The cold is gone and the heavy sloshing of blood in his ribcage feels ghostly now. It feels like a tickle of lightning is running though every single nerve in his body. Like he’s being rewired back into place.
And then it's dark.
But not a shadowy darkness. The faint deep orange-maroon of the light coming through the trees rests comfortably on his closed eyelids.
“Kakashi-!”
It's Asuma. Kakashi’s eyes snap open and he’s looking at the blood-red sky against black branches and trunks.
For a moment ice shoots down his spine. ‘Bleeding–!’
Asuma’s already kneeling at his side from where he's laying half-propped against the roots of a tree.
“Hang in there-!” Is all the other jounin says before he's pulled over the man’s shoulders.
“Kffh-...” Kakashi lets out a grunt as his chest is compressed by his own weight on Asuma’s back.
But there's no pain.
He's not bleeding out. Not anymore.
Kakashi allows Asuma to carry him through the branches in long leaps. He doesn't bother trying to move. Even with the pain gone, he can tell he's almost entirely depleted of chakra.
It's not long before he senses other members of the retrieval team regrouping around them.
“I’m fine…-” He says with a slightly sleepy drawl.
“Don't talk.” Is all he gets back.
Asuma’s face is pale all the way back to Konoha.
𖦹 はたけカカシ x うみのイルカ 𖦹
“I don't require any medical assistance.” We're the first words out of Kakashi’s mouth as Asuma finally lets him down.
He let himself fall onto the medbay gurney. Still too tired to move his limbs.
“That's enough.” Tsunade chides him, already geared up.
Everyone’s faces looked grave the moment Asuma brought him in. Kakashi can’t blame them. His clothes were so saturated with his own blood that he’d left a trail all the way back. Even Asuma’s flak jacket was now soaked at his shoulders from carrying him.
“It's the truth, I-” Kakashi turns his head towards Tsunade as she cuts his kachi-iro uniform shirt open.
She paused. Her brow furrows. The scissors are still in her hand.
“What?” She blurts out.
“That's what I told you…” he sighs in resignation.
Guilt weighs on top of the awkwardness Kakashi was already feeling under Tsunade’s scrutiny.
Three long, thick, pink lines trace from the middle of Kakashi’s back to the serratus muscles on his left side. Like the claws of a huge beast. A rough diamond shape sits at a spot between his ribs at the front of his torso.
Tsunade proceeds anyway. Kakashi doesn’t protest as she presses a palm to his back. A tingle starts from where her palm and fingers are. It races through his body, mapping his pathways, organs and everything else in-between. And then, everyone senses it–and turns away as Kakashi roughly yanks his mask down.
“Khfphh-!” he coughs up blood in a thick, chakra-coagulated blob.
He lets it fall into the steel basin that Shizune hurriedly thrusts in front of him with her eyes still closed.
Splat-!!
For a moment, even Asuma holds his breath. Kakashi heaves and coughs, then spits. A soft rustle of clothing follows as he pulls his mask back up.
Tsunade finally lets out a sigh–baffled. But also relieved.
He has no wounds. Only scars where they once were. A little tender. Fresh.
“...there's no signs of any lingering damage.” Tsunade’s furrowed brow is deep.
She eyes the silver-haired Jonin with suspicion.
Lingering. So she can tell too.
Kakashi glances over at Asuma, who was still holding onto his blood-soaked, ruined flak jacket. The look on his fellow jounin’s face is nothing short of baffled. It's that thousand yard stare a veteran operative gets when something doesn't make sense.
The emergency examination room is quiet. It's never this quiet.
“...report.” Tsunade finally commands, yanking her gloves off with rubbery snaps.
Kakashi sighs, glancing at Asuma briefly. “I…encountered an unidentified female on my return. I suspect she would have been the one to heal me.”
"How the hell...?" Asuma mutters under his breath so as not to interrupt. His eyes darted from Kakashi to the trail of blood his clothes had left all the way in through the door.
"This was deep tissue damage. But these wounds... they're healed completely." Tsunade’s voice is a little steely.
Damnit. Kakashi couldn't remember her face. Everything was going dark at the time.
"I don't recall much," Kakashi admits, frustration creeping into his voice as he continues to fix his gaze on Tsunade. "I was fading in and out of consciousness."
Izumo and Kotetsu exchange looks behind her.
Tsunade regards him in return, expression solemn. "Anything you remember could help. Height, hair color, anything."
Asuma crosses his arms, studying Kakashi’s face closely.
“She was light-skinned with equally light-colored hair.” Kakashi recalls, taking another deep breath just short of a sigh.
Tsunade glares down at Kakashi like he has personally offended every cell in her body since birth.
"She was shorter than someone like yourself, Shizune, or Kurenai," Kakashi recounts, his eyes closing in focus. "I’d estimate she’d be an adolescent..."
Tsunade crosses her arms, her expression hardening even more. "And so…she simply Healed you? Are you saying that she made no use of jutsu or tools?”
Kakashi nods, his jaw clenching. "It was instantaneous. I felt her touch, and the pain vanished. My wounds closed."
There's a hushed silence among the group. The idea of someone possessing the ability to heal wounds like that? Instantly? Without the time it takes for proper chakra-sutures? No tools?
Impossible.
Nobody in the room needs to say it. It’s so glaringly obvious.
“I could have been mistaken.” Kakashi adds, his confusion evident. “It's possible I was too far gone to recognize any jutsu activation.”
His comment doesn't sit well with anyone in the room.
It’s quiet for a few moments.
“Three days!” Tsunade announces as if she’s speaking to an auditorium instead of just a handful of people in the small of her private examination room.
Nobody reacts.
“I’m ordering you a mandatory three-day-leave. During that time, you’ll need to report to me every morning, noon and evening so I can monitor your condition.” She pointed right at Kakashi sternly.
“Understood.” Kakashi doesn’t argue.
It’s an unprecedented case, afterall. The miracle of what happened to him isn’t something that can be spread around, but it’s urgent enough that the ANBU concealing themselves on the ceiling need to know. They’re the same handful of ANBU from the Sandaime’s days; they could be trusted. Kakashi knew personally.
She gives Asuma a slow glance. It doesn’t take any more words for anyone else in the room to understand. Even Shizune leaves. The barely-there presences in the ceiling whittle down to one. From the rough scent Kakashi can make out, it’s Yuugao.
“...you’re clear of any internal injuries.” She confirms, once the room is mostly empty.
It should be a relief–and it is; only the questions that come with his perfectly clean bill of health makes the diagnosis more alarming.
“This shouldn’t be possible.” Tsunade huffs. “Only someone my level could-...no, even then…the way your cells reformed…”
She steps back, moving to make notes. One was for his extensive and thick medical file and the other was in a worn notebook–likely her own medical research. Kakashi’s quiet as she begins to examine him outwardly, giving him a once-over with a clinical gaze.
“Light scarring–pink. Fresh.” She mutters as she takes notes. “....odd…”
Kakashi can tell when she’s done and moves to redress himself. He’s standing and rewrapping his shins and ankles, when she speaks again.
“Just from cursory examination–internally and externally…it’s as if your cells were tricked into thinking that the damage you suffered was superficial. There’s some light bruising on your lung and as expected, a bit of blood was pooled there. So it isn’t as if you were never injured to begin with.” Clearly, even she’s trying to make sense of what she’s saying; thinking and speaking at once.
Kakashi’s brow raises marginally. Honestly, he turned out alright. As long as he did, he could wait for Naruto’s return and what came next.
There wasn’t exactly anyone waiting for him to come home.
Just the people in this room, perhaps…just Gai wanting another showdown…just the Mission Desk staff…
Just…
An image of a warm, familiar smile flashes through Kakashi’s mind—it’s a snippet of an exchange he had once. A rare kind of exchange–warm and honest.
‘So…is Naruto doing well with his comrades?’
That man’s face is warm and free of all mastered pretense of pleasantry. He’s polite with that minimal sense of professionalism. But, he’s earnest about his affections for Naruto. Kakashi saw to that personally. Hell, he’d been the one to meddle when Iruka’s doubts–...
Kakashi doesn’t say anything as he returns from his daydreaming in memory. He waits, watching Tsunade parse through her thoughts and come to a conclusion after a few moments.
“...could it…” She mutters, before turning to look at the tray of medical tools in deep thought. “This is just me thinking out loud…”
Kakashi straightens up marginally. What she’s about to say is information that can’t be confirmed, but if she’s mentioning it, he might as well listen.
“It’s been…a little over four decades since I read it but…there was a children’s book I came across when I first began my research into medical ninjutsu.” The Godaime continues, her voice somewhat distant and unsure.
Kakashi blinks in surprise at that. The Godaime would have been…about chuunin level then. This was a long, long time ago…
“Honestly, it’s probably got nothing to do with it–but this case just reminded me of a story in that anthology I picked up as a youngster…” She sighs, looking lost.
‘If even Tsunade-sama is reminiscing about a children’s tale, then she really must be at a loss…’ The thought gives Kakashi pause.
She continues with a sigh, “...to sum it up: there was a wanderer who encountered a severely injured traveller. He heals their wounds and both go their separate ways. But…that wanderer later reappears in another story in the collection…and he’s bearing the traveller’s wounds.”
Kakashi’s brow furrows for the first time since he’s reported. The silence is short between them.
“So in this story…the wanderer ‘steals’ the traveler’s wounds.” Kakashi concludes out loud.
This time, the short silence is heavy. Too heavy.
‘Whoever is out there…are they still even alive?’ Kakashi can’t help but wonder, dread suddenly twisting his gut.
Kakashi isn’t an idiot. He knows what this off-handed comment is really about. She wants to see what he can dig up; what he comes up with next. But it’s also a warning–not to get too invested. It’s a tall order, paired with a tall tail and finally, accompanied by a fat chance that he’ll find whoever did this.
But he wasn’t the kind of person who didn’t at least thank someone who very well saved his life.
‘…it’d be interesting to try.’