| [Nov. 19th, 2011|06:19 am] |
Something flicked like a blade through the Hokage’s scent. Kakashi had been fifteen when Orochimaru had defected; he remembered sleepless nights spent with Rin in this same office, both of them too afraid to leave Minato alone for a moment in case Orochimaru came back to murder the man who’d taken the job he’d thought was his.
Orochimaru had killed more than sixty people with his experiments. The Sandaime had let him go.
Kakashi’s father had died for trying to save lives.
“There are many things I regret about my life,” the Hokage said, meeting Kakashi’s gaze. “But my past mistakes are not the issue at hand. You are angry because you believe I have betrayed your trust, and the trust of all my agents. Perhaps you think I am not fit to be the Hokage.”
Kakashi looked away.
The Hokage rose from his chair and walked around the desk. The broad sunlight streaming through the windows silvered his grey hair and warmed his skin, making him seem a little younger than his sixty-one years; he was almost a handspan shorter than Kakashi, and looked about as tired as Kakashi had felt for years.
“Ryouma’s ruse was a good one. Every piece of intel I had indicated he was irrevocably damaged. I could not tell my agents that one of their own was imprisoned and insane until I knew whether it was even possible to bring him home. What would you have done four months ago if I had come to you and said Ryouma was in Suna, and they were considering executing him?”
Ryouma hadn’t said that. Kakashi felt the blood drain out of his face.
“I would have gone,” he said.
“Perhaps you would have succeeded,” the Hokage said, in a way that made Kakashi suspect he was trying to be kind. “But there would have been loss of life, and at the very least a political disaster that I simply do not have the resources to deal with. I cannot afford to lose Suna’s support, and Konoha cannot afford to lose you, Kakashi. You are the last of your clan.”
“So is Ryouma,” Kakashi said sharply.
“If the two of you figure out how to have children, I deeply hope that you pass along all of your jutsu,” the Hokage said, with a slight lift to one side of his mouth.
Kakashi stared at him.
“Just a thought to keep in mind,” the Hokage said.
Kakashi wrenched his mind back to a sane place. “I gave you my oath six years ago,” he said. “I swore to have no face but the mask you gave me, no heart but the heart of Konohagakure, and no will but yours. I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked me to.”
And you kicked me out.
Very carefully, the Hokage’s hand came down on his shoulder. “I know,” he said quietly, eyes so dark they seemed hollow. “And I still have so much to ask from you.”
Kakashi drew a breath that burned. “What else do you want?”
“For you to go home,” the Hokage said gently. “Ryouma will be done with Intel soon, and I have no doubt he will prove himself loyal. Take him out; show him the village you have both spent your lives fighting for. Remind him what it means to be alive and home.” His hand tightened a little. “And perhaps remember, yourself.” |
|