Kakashi

There had been fewer missions lately, and by the time Kakashi returned from the training ground, it was already completely dark.

He changed his shoes in the entryway and set his Ninja Tool Pouch on the shoe cabinet. A light was on in the living room. His father sat at the low table with a scroll spread out before him, though he wasn't looking at it. Kakashi had rarely spoken to his father since his "retirement." Did he blame him for the choice he'd made on the mission, or for trying to throw away his life so readily? He hadn't figured it out. Whenever he faced his father, it was as if something blocked his throat. Everything he wanted to say crowded into that tiny space, and he couldn't get a single word out.

"Dinner?"

"I ate out."

He hadn't eaten at home in a long time. Eating at home meant sitting face-to-face with his father, with a lamp, a few dishes, and long stretches of silence between them. That silence made his chest feel tight. Even so, his father insisted on asking the same question every day when he came home, even though their conversations always ended after two sentences.

Today, though, his father spoke again.

"Someone's waiting for you in the Dōjō."

Kakashi stopped. He couldn't say whether he was surprised or nervous, but he felt his heart beating faster, thumping against his chest.

"Who?"

"You'll find out when you get there."

Kakashi didn't answer. He simply turned and headed for the backyard. His steps were as steady as ever, his back just as straight. But as Hatake Sakumo watched him go, he still noticed the difference. His steps were a little faster than usual, and his right shoulder brushed a pillar as he passed through the corridor. Others might not have noticed those details, but a father's eyes wouldn't miss them.

"It seems I'm still a long way from being a good father."

Sakumo lowered his eyes, looking toward the backyard as though he could see through the walls to the boy walking toward the Dōjō.

The Dōjō door was closed.

Kakashi stood before it, his hand hovering by the doorframe. He didn't open it right away.

The question buried in his heart for so long had instead become something icy, slowly seeping up from the base of his spine. He took a deep breath and pulled the door open.

Moonlight shone through the paper windows, lighting up a corner of the Dōjō and the person inside.

The man sat quietly, cross-legged, a Tachi laid across his knees. He was motionless, his shadow cast on the floor by the moonlight, its outline blurred but steady.

"It really was you, Gekkō Byakuya."

"Yes."

Kakashi stood in the doorway, his feet seemingly nailed to the floor. He had imagined finding the answer countless times. He'd thought he would be angry, that he would demand answers, that he would draw his Short Sword without hesitation. But now that the man was actually sitting before him, calmly admitting to everything, he found he couldn't utter a single word.

"Didn't you make quite a commotion trying to find me? Why have you gone quiet now?"

Kakashi's throat moved.

What was he supposed to say?

Should he demand to know why Byakuya had meddled—why he had saved his father when he shouldn't have?

Or should he demand to know why Byakuya hadn't been able to save his father's Chakra?

Neither.

Deep down, he knew he shouldn't blame this man. He should thank him for saving his only family.

But why did it still hurt so much?

Byakuya stood. A cold glint slid along the scabbard in the moonlight, and the blade came free with a crisp, short sound.

"Draw your sword." The tip of the Tachi pointed at Kakashi. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

Those words ignited the fire that had smoldered in Kakashi's heart for so long.

All this time, he hadn't dared, or perhaps hadn't wanted, to confirm that the person he sought was Byakuya. That was because he could tell from the traces at the scene that the man's swordsmanship far surpassed his own.

Had he been going easy on him in all their matches over the years?

Had he been going easy on the son of Konoha's White Fang all this time?

Unforgivable!

Kakashi drew his Short Sword. Chakra burst beneath his feet, and the wooden floor thudded as he pushed off. He shot toward Byakuya like an arrow loosed from a bow, his Short Sword carving a deadly arc from above

with unmistakable killing intent.

Clang!

Byakuya held his sword crosswise and firmly blocked the blow. Their blades met in the moonlight with a piercing metallic shriek. Kakashi was strong, but Byakuya's wrist didn't budge.

He was no longer that sickly weakling.

"That's it?" Byakuya looked down at Kakashi, who was right in front of him. "Compared to your father, you're worlds apart."

"Shut up!"

Kakashi roared, using the force of the clash to push Byakuya's sword away. He twisted halfway around in midair, reversing his grip on the Short Sword and driving its point down toward the hollow of Byakuya's shoulder.

The change in the move was incredibly fast. He had worked it out himself on missions, combining it with his family's swordsmanship.

Byakuya turned sideways to evade it, shifting his feet slightly.

It was a tiny application of Shunpo, but to Kakashi, it only looked as though his opponent had suddenly become a little faster. The Short Sword missed, brushing past his collar. An instant later, Byakuya's foot struck Kakashi's waist, sending him flying sideways into the Dōjō's wooden wall. The wallboards shook and hummed.

"Coming again?"

Kakashi climbed to his feet, teeth clenched. Without a word, he charged again with another slash.

Byakuya knocked it aside. One slash. Then another. Every strike was easily blocked or evaded, and each time Kakashi was driven back by a palm, an elbow, or a kick.

Kakashi's breathing grew more and more ragged, the path of his Short Sword increasingly erratic. He couldn't even touch the hem of Byakuya's clothes.

He charged once more. As his Short Sword came down, Byakuya's Tachi struck its Tsuba with precision. The Short Sword flew from Kakashi's hand, spinning several times in the air before landing in a corner of the Dōjō. It bounced twice and lay still.

The tip of Byakuya's sword stopped three inches from Kakashi's throat, then withdrew. In its place, a clenched fist came straight at his face in the moonlight. Kakashi closed his eyes. The fist stopped half an inch from the tip of his nose. The wind from the punch brushed his bangs, and then the fist withdrew.

Byakuya turned and walked toward the door.

Kakashi knelt where he was, watching his back as he walked step by step toward the Dōjō door.

Something welled up inside him. He tried to push it down, but he couldn't hold it back.

Large tears rolled from his eyes and fell onto the Dōjō floor.

He had lost. He had lost long ago. From the moment he'd stood in the Hospital Room doorway and seen the empty bottle in his father's hand, he had already lost.

When people accused his father, when his father was betrayed by those he had saved, when his father needed someone by his side most, he, his father's only family, had never thought of standing with him. Instead, he had avoided contact with his father and resented his choice.

Because of that, he had almost lost his father.

The person he hated had never been Byakuya.

It was himself.

He simply hadn't wanted to admit it. That was why he had desperately wanted to find the man who had saved his father and defeat him. As though doing so would prove that he could have done the same—that even without anyone else, he could have saved his father.

Now that Byakuya had given him this beating, he could no longer deceive himself.

Overwhelming emotions churned in his chest. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

A pair of feet appeared before him.

Kakashi looked up and saw his father standing in front of him. Moonlight shone from behind his father, making his expression impossible to see, but the hand that rested on Kakashi's head was warm.

"I'm sorry... Father... I..."

"I'm the one who should apologize." Sakumo's voice was quiet but steady. "It's been hard on you all this time, hasn't it?"

Kakashi didn't answer. He threw his arms around his father, his shoulders trembling violently.

Outside, moonlight flowed like water. Byakuya stood beneath the shadow of a tree on the street corner. He looked back at the house, which no longer felt cold, and activated Transparent Release. His figure gradually melted into the night.