Chapter Text
He’s always been terrible with free time. Not intentionally. When there’s a mission, when there’s training, chores to work on and maintenance to be done, his world makes sense. It’s like a well-oiled machine. But those moments in between when the house is quiet, his father is on a mission, Rin is out and everything is done, Kakashi is half a person.
Today, he sits on the engawa and stares at the garden. The plants are watered, pruned, and weed-free. Even when he looks for work, there’s none to be had, and it eats away at him. Kakashi can’t stand boredom. He would rather take an arrow to his shoulder than feel the slow, oncoming creep of all the thoughts he keeps walled up behind busywork.
It’s summer again, the summer that he always hates, cicadas drowning out the birdsong. It takes him back to his worst days, and his best. Docks and candies and tombstones. A warm hand, a memorial. Starry nights and mourning clothes. He taps his foot.
It’s been three days since he spoke with Minato-sensei, and three days of silence. Rin’s visiting friends in another village, so team training has been halted, and there’s only so much he can do on his own. Sometimes he develops jutsu to stave off this nothingness that loves to consume him, as though he were the great Tobirama Senju. But he doesn’t love it the way he once did, and he has yet to perfect any of them. Shiden is his most recent experiment as he revisits his first ninjutsu, Chidori, that he had to scrap, but the kickback isn’t worth it.
He wonders what to do if Sensei can’t convince Obito to join the team. Wisely, he should do nothing. This isn’t his problem, Obito does not want his help, has not asked for it, and the more he pokes his nose into it, the more Obito’s going to hate him. He knows this.
But Obito is alone. If Kakashi doesn’t butt in, no one else will.
Kakashi lies back on the old wood and stares up at the clouds floating on by without a care in the world. He presses his arm to his forehead, trying to make objects out of the abstract shapes above, like Mom used to do. But he’s not imaginative in the way that she was. The clouds look like clouds, and Obito doesn’t want his help.
The most useless things a human can have are relationships. Humans meet each other, they rely on each other, argue and apologize, exhausting all their energy on this meaningless cycle that they know, somewhere inside, can’t have a happy end. Even if they foster that relationship, even if they feed it, watch it grow and blossom, the weight of their love is the weight of their pain. People leave. They die. Nothing is eternal, and no one lives forever.
Obito knows this pain, too.
Kakashi sighs. It’s long and tired. With it, he hopes to expel the demons in his head.
The sun is going down now and the clouds are lit in vibrant hues. It makes it even harder to work out their shapes or what they could be. It’s getting to be late enough that he can start preparing dinner, at least… though Dad mentioned that the leftovers in the fridge needed to be eaten tonight, so the most he can do is reheat those. There will be dishes after that, though. Something to occupy his hands.
He thinks about Obito when he eats, not because he’s close to the man but because he wants to fix it—the aggression, the despair, the growling, and misery that follow the alpha around like a string of boulders tied to his ankle. Obito looks like he’s wading through quicksand, like walking is hard and breathing is harder, and all the stars in the sky and the moon above can’t save him from himself.
They haven’t spoken in weeks, and barely even then. None of this is his business. Obito is a stranger. They shared a history, once, and it’s over now. Everything is done.
Move on.
But the running tap is white noise, lending Obito more leverage in his mind, reminding him of rose-coloured nostalgia he’s best off leaving in the past.
Kakashi doesn’t know why he’s like this. Rin’s words echo in his head.
“Shouldn’t we do something?”
He’s trying. Against every fibre of his being.
There’s a knock at the door. He knows who it is before he answers it, Minato’s familiar scent floating in through the open window. It’s not like Minato to show up this late—though it’s not unlike him to do so, either—and the neutral face is hard for Kakashi to decipher. Sensei’s always been forward with how he feels, so he’s easy for Kakashi to read, even more so than Dad. He smiles at Kakashi.
“Can I come in?”
Kakashi pretends not to be thrilled as he brews tea. Something to talk about, something to do. It’s what he wanted all day, and finally he can shove all his hypocrisy deep into the crevices of his mind. Minato looks around the sitting room at all the memorabilia on the walls, relics of wars long past and a once thriving clan. Sensei loves history. Not as much as he loves studying seals or developing ninjutsu, but it’s up there. Sometimes, it feels like Minato treats these visits like a trip to the museum.
Finally, Minato sets down his tea. “I’ve spoken to your friend,” he says incorrectly because Obito and Kakashi are not, and cannot be, friends. They’re like oil and water. What are Obito’s motivations in life? His values, even? Kakashi can’t say.
“I wouldn’t be too upset, Sensei,” Kakashi says, assuming the worst. “He’s like that with everybody. It’s a fool’s errand. But thank you for trying.”
“Oh, he agreed.” Kakashi must have misheard him. “I still have to finalize things with Lord Third, but he should be joining our training sessions by the end of next week.”
This is unprecedented. Obito agreed?
“There are some things we should discuss beforehand, however. That’s why I’m here.”
Kakashi tried three times. Each time he discussed with Obito the benefits of joining his team, he was ignored, growled at, shoved aside and, finally, left behind by an alpha who vanished into thin air. But all it takes is one conversation with the Yellow Flash to sway Obito’s resolve?
He knew Sensei could do it. Sensei could talk his way out of a war.
“I saw what you meant about his temper, and you’re right that he isn’t managing it well,” Minato says. “From what I gather, he’s spent most of his time alone after losing his teammates. He’s not well-socialized, no, but even worse is that he’s grieving. There’s more at play here than a lack of self-control, and he has a lot working against him at the moment—Kakashi, I understand you're happy, but I hope you’re paying attention as well.”
“Of course.” His smile only fades when he notices it’s there. It’s… strange. Usually, when he smiles, he has to make a conscious effort. Kakashi lives in his head most of the time, whether he likes it or not, and reflecting how he feels outwardly isn’t always the most natural thing for him. “What do you propose?”
“Well, firstly, I’ve heard that you tend to antagonize him.” Rin, that traitor. “Don’t do that. Play nice, Kakashi. For his sake.”
The issue is that Kakashi doesn’t try to antagonize him. Tease him, sure. But he doesn’t like flaring Obito’s temper any more than Obito likes it. Rin says he needs to work on his brain-to-mouth filter, and he's trying. But whenever he's around Obito, all of his restraint bleeds out.
“I'll coach you and Rin on a few things,” Minato continues. “We’ll focus on reading signs of aggression and stress. I'll also show you when to put distance between Obito and yourself to de-escalate tension. I know how you are with boundaries.”
What would he do without Sensei, really?
As they talk, Minato lecturing about alpha aggression and the symptoms of it, Kakashi admits that he doesn't know if he could ever let go of the relationships he has. He doesn't know what love is, and sometimes he thinks he never will. But even knowing that he will one day lose these few precious connections he’s made, he doesn't think he could sever them on his own. The family that will die off, the teammate always by his side and the teachers who try their best to help him understand are the only reasons he’s here now.
Obito had those people, too, once.
For the first time in his life, Kakashi can't rein in his scent. More to the point: he can't be bothered.
Obito is here, shepherded onto the training grounds by Minato, and introductions are underway. There's no guarantee that this will help Obito, and they could even make things worse. But at the very least, Obito is no longer fighting this battle on his own.
Kakashi doesn't want Obito to go feral. Even though he can see this short-fused man getting aggressive, he can't equate that with his old friend. That boy wouldn't have hurt a fly.
Obito’s heated glare is on Kakashi throughout the formality of their greetings. But the pheromones must get to him because, after a while, he doesn’t look as annoyed. The tension leaves his shoulders, and he leans in.
Minato stumbles over one of their names as the scent reaches him, too, and he makes a small gesture for Kakashi to suppress it.
He does. Obito’s anger is back in moments.
Rin elbows Kakashi, giving him a look. ‘Be on your best behaviour,’ she says with her eyes. Kakashi will try.
Rin holds out a hand to their new teammate, grinning. “Rin Nohara. I'm the team’s medic. I can do anything short of necromancy.”
She tried necromancy, too, actually. Well, she wanted to. Edo Tensei would have been a fantastic addition to her arsenal but, being a forbidden jutsu, Minato talked her out of it.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“I mean it,” Rin insists. She really does mean it. “One day, I'll dethrone Lady Tsunade as the goddess of medical ninjutsu. Just watch.”
Obito snorts, but shakes her hand nonetheless. It's good to note that he's trying to be civil, too. Their handshake lasts a few seconds too long and then longer still, their knuckles flushed from their tight grip. They both relent before it becomes a thing, which is good. Minato’s ready to step in at the first sign of conflict. Sure, Kakashi’s antagonistic. But two alphas who’ve never met before are far less predictable.
“Obito Uchiha,” Obito greets, and leaves it at that. He doesn’t say anything about himself, his specialties or his goals, closed off now as he’s always been.
Rin grins. “I know who you are. Be stranger if I didn’t, don’t you think?”
Minato chooses then to intervene, getting between them. There’s something dark in Obito’s eyes as he stares at Rin, but it’s gone just as quickly. “Why don’t we get started?”
“Um. Sure,” Obito mutters.
Kakashi’s pheromones have fully dissipated now, and Obito’s back to giving him sour looks while Minato explains how things work on their team.
“We meet here at Training Ground 14 every other weekday and beyond the gates at Training Ground 37 on Saturdays. I’ll speak with Lord Third about getting you a pass through the gates.”
“Don’t need one,” Obito mutters offhand.
Ah. This is going to be an issue, isn’t it?
“You do, though,” Minato insists.
“I can get there fine on my own. Haven’t you read my file?”
Kakashi doesn’t know much about what Obito can do with his Sharingan, but Obito’s run away enough times for him to understand that it has something to do with space-time. No doubt, Obito used it to leave the village without permission in the past. But that attitude needs to be curbed now if he has any hope of recovering from his current situation.
Obito’s off the mission roster. He’s effectively suspended because of his growing aggression and if not for Team Minato’s special request, he wouldn’t even be allowed to train with a cell, much less leave the village. If Obito does anything else against regulation, he could be dismissed. Where would he go from there, then? Obito’s jumpy around people and makes shinobi uncomfortable. How hard would it be for him to take up a civilian trade?
Kakashi sighs, and he doesn’t miss the vitriol on Obito’s face when he does so. “Sensei has to report back to the Hokage about you,” Kakashi says. He keeps his eyes on the scenery so that Obito won’t see this as a confrontation. All he wants is to help Obito understand, not start a fight. “It was Lord Third’s condition for bringing you onto our team. If you don’t have a pass, and you go to Training Ground 37, what do you think that report will say?”
Please understand.
Obito bites his lip and nods. “Alright,” he sighs, “I get it. You don’t have to be so smug about it, Hatake.”
Kakashi smiles. He’s not sure if he’s being smug, but he’s relieved.
Minato clears his throat to draw their eyes and moves things along. “We haven’t taken a new member onto the team in a long time, so this is going to be a big adjustment for all of us. You especially, Kakashi.”
Their teammates don’t know about the talk they had last week while Rin was away. Minato had a few drinks out in the courtyard after his tea, and they shared meaningless words about nothing at all. Then, Kakashi loosened up. He told Minato about his history with Obito, the time spent between them and the years of distance that followed. The way Obito’s pheromones drew him in on the docks, and all the fears that find him in the silence.
Minato won’t share those confessions with another soul, but he’ll still call Kakashi out.
Kakashi’s amused, if nothing else.
“For now, I’ve paused mission assignments so that Obito can get acquainted with the two of you. The war is over, so we have some breathing room now. Use this time to get to know each other. Spar if you’re feeling up to it. Next week, we’ll train properly as a team.”
Obito’s head is down, listening as he shifts and fidgets in that way he always has, so allergic to keeping still. Kakashi watches out of the corner of his eye, overlaying the image of a long-ago friend with the alpha near him, and he wonders what it is he feels.
“I thought we could be teammates.”
Obito may no longer hold that desire in his heart, but Kakashi remembers it just the same. He hopes that, at least somewhere within him, Obito is happy.
Kakashi and Rin spar with a focus on taijutsu while Obito sits beneath one of the trees at the edge of the clearing. Minato was commentating for a while, but he had other obligations, and now there’s no one there to keep Obito awake. The layabout has been like this all morning, not that they should expect anything else; the reports of his previous captains describe a lack of motivation as one of the points of contention between Obito and his teammates. That’s all well and good today while they’re feeling each other out, but that attitude needs to be stamped down before it becomes a problem.
How can he act like that? Knowingly, this man is putting a wedge between himself and his community. He’s poisoning his own future. Obito is struggling, yes, but damning himself further isn’t going to help that.
Kakashi knows. When it hurts, when he can’t understand what to do or where to go, he mirrors the people around him. Camouflage. If he shows them what they want, they leave him alone. No one wants to do field work with an omega, least of all the alphas working under one. But if he doesn’t act like an omega, if he stamps out his instincts and challenges them, bears his teeth like he’s one of them, they’ll submit. It doesn’t need to be honest; it needs to look convincing.
Obito doesn’t really lie, does he? Whatever he’s feeling is obvious in his posture and on his face, it always has been, and Kakashi can’t ever see him masking that for the sake of his career.
They’ll have to motivate him themselves.
Rin dodges one of his kicks and slips. The ground is slick from the last storm and she takes a dive, but not before hooking a hand around Kakashi’s shirt. They twist on the way down and Kakashi hits the mud first, his teammate pinning him, her arms bracketing his and their noses brushing against one another.
For just one second, it’s not Rin looming over him but someone else, the blue sky now grey, moss and peat depressed beneath him.
Kakashi blinks and his vision is framed by Rin’s hair, her brown eyes uncomfortably close to his. She searches him, waits, and he breathes. He’s relieved that it’s Rin hovering over him and not Obito. If it were Obito…
He’s not sure. It would be different. Obito’s scent is different, always wanting and obnoxiously there.
The cold seeps into his back, reminding him of his sorry state, and Rin laughs in his face. He must be a sight; it’s not every day he makes a fool of himself on the training grounds.
“Sorry, Kashi,” she says as she climbs off and offers her hand. “Didn’t mean to muddy your clothes.”
Kakashi accepts her help and stares down at himself. Mud and grass have made a home in his hair and his clothes are sticky and wet. It’s disgusting. Now he’ll have to wash up, change his clothes—he keeps spares in his inventory scroll, at least—and take precious time out of Obito’s first session with them for something trivial. He could leave it, wear these for the next three hours and wash up when they’re done, but he hates the sensation. It’s all he can think about.
As irritating as it is that Obito isn’t taking the initiative today, he’s still adjusting to their presence. That’s crucial in keeping his aggression under control, and it’s something they’ll have to work at for a long time to come. Cutting into that time, even for ten minutes, isn’t right. Yet here he is doing just that.
Rin spins him around, brushing clumps of grass off his pant legs. “Go change.”
Her command pulls him free of his downward spiral, and he goes through the trees in search of privacy. He cringes at the sensory input of the clothes sticking to his skin, shifting and peeling. His whole body is uncomfortable. His clothes itch. Everything feels wrong.
Kakashi finds a place by the stream to undress. He runs the muddied uniform through the current and cleans the filth off his body with a cloth from his inventory scroll. As he scrubs at his scalp, he feels it—peat at his back and a weight bearing down on him, sinking deeper into the spongy earth.
He holds his breath underwater, the rushing of the current like white noise in his ears, until he shakes the wrongness clinging to him.
Kakashi climbs out of the stream and dries off, sighing as he pulls on a change of clothes. He’s been looking forward to today. Regardless of their estranged relationship, Obito was still, at one point, a friend. Kakashi doesn’t keep many of those. Maybe he doesn’t want an aggressive alpha in his bed and the status of Obito’s clan makes him undesirable as a mate, but that doesn’t mean Kakashi will stand by and watch when he’s suffering like this.
In any other world, under any other circ*mstances, Kakashi thinks he would be the one left alone. And in any of those worlds that may or may not exist, he doesn’t think Obito would leave him like that.
Kakashi gathers everything back into his scroll and makes his way back to the clearing. As he reaches the tree line, he hears Obito’s voice.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, you know,” Rin shrugs.
“No. I don’t. Please, elaborate.”
“Oh, look, Kashi’s back.”
Well, it's nice they're getting along. Most likely.
Kakashi keeps his attention on Rin as he approaches, as per Minato’s request. If he keeps stealing glances as he so loves to do, he could draw Obito’s temper. They don't need to provoke their new teammate on his first day, after all.
“Feeling better now?” Rin asks. “Are you ready to get back to it, or…?”
Kakashi considers Obito then, trying not to look at him too openly. “As much as I enjoyed ruining my clothes,” Rin grins at him, “I think we might be too focused on ourselves when we've added a new member to the team. How about a spar, Obito?”
“Then let's say you forfeit,” Rin teases, “and I win.”
“If that will help you sleep at night, sure.”
“Oh, shut up, Kashi.”
Obito doesn't answer. He's watching Kakashi but not saying anything, a spike of unease in the air, and Kakashi doesn't know what they did wrong.
“Well?”
Rin nudges Obito’s arm and finally, Obito acknowledges them.
Kakashi stands over them with his hands in his pockets, trying to come off neutral. He can't set Obito off right now. “Are you going to sit here all day, or are you going to train?”
“Sit here,” Obito yawns. The bad smell in the air dissipates with the passing seconds. Good, he's not upset.
But he isn't taking this seriously, either.
Kakashi swings a kick at Obito’s head, his foot hitting nothing but air as the alpha activates his Sharingan. Kakashi doesn't know the precise details of what Obito can do, but he's made educated guesses. No doubt a skill like this has bolstered Obito’s confidence, which explains why he’s slacked off on training. He’s been without a regular team for a long time, too, and the uncertainty of being tossed from one cell to another wouldn’t help. The boy Kakashi knew was bad at most things, but he still put 110% of his effort into everything he tried. That motivation is dead and gone in the man sitting with them here.
Kakashi will fix that.
Rin doesn't know much about the Sharingan. She whistles, poking Obito’s arm, disappointed when she makes contact with his skin.
“Spar with me,” Kakashi insists.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because there's no point if you can't hit me.”
“I can hit you.”
“Bullsh*t.”
“Try me.”
Soon, they're standing opposite each other on the field. He shifts his weight, wondering how to show Obito the limits of his dōjutsu. The best way is through scent; if Obito is so easily swayed by it, any omega could take him out. He doesn’t want to set Obito off… but not all pheromones will trigger him. Kakashi isn’t feeling combative right now, or angry or scared. Seeing Obito there takes him back to the Hatake estate’s courtyard, years younger and much shorter, wooden swords and summer heat.
Kakashi kicks off, his sandal gouging at loose mud, but Obito stands firm. He doesn’t flinch as Kakashi’s leg phases through his neck. He grabs his tantō by the hilt, pulls it free of its sheath. The moment Kakashi loosens his grip on his scent, Obito’s eyes change.
Kakashi’s shin connects with Obito’s forearm and the alpha skids back, blocking it by the skin of his teeth. Obito’s finally taking this seriously.
Kakashi grins. Not bad.
Obito retreats. He shoves Kakashi off him and skids back, patting himself down, but he doesn’t have any weapons on him, nothing to fight with but his fists. He won’t be making that mistake again after today. To be honest, Kakashi doesn’t know much about his fighting style. They’ve only been out on the field together once. But if he has to hazard a guess… The Uchiha clan specializes in big, flashy Katon, and he remembers Obito leaning into that fighting style when they were children.
Obito’s hands come together, and Kakashi’s there to knock them away with the butt of his tantō. When Obito ducks out to try again, Kakashi beats him to it, forcing him back before he can make the seal. If Obito insists on using Katon, he’ll put it out with Suiton. The field is wet and patchy with puddles; there’s plenty to draw on, and Obito is disadvantaged at every angle.
The biggest weakness of the Sharingan is that one can always see it coming. When Obito’s black eyes bleed red, Kakashi releases more of his scent in the air. Unstable alphas are such because they can’t control their instincts. It’s such a well-known weakness that, during the war, Kumo started pairing one omega with every four-man cell just to take advantage of it. And it worked. They lost a lot of soldiers because of that.
With no hand seals, no weapons and shoddy use of his Sharingan, Obito would have to rely on taijutsu. When their hands connect, Obito fumbles. He’s rusty. This won’t be much of a spar if that’s all he has.
Obito’s eyes spin red again. Something drops out of thin air—a kunai—and Obito snatches it up with his left hand. He swings back, catching Kakashi’s blade with his own, the teeth-clenching scrape of metal on metal breaking the silence of the training grounds. Kakashi hates this sound more than anything; over a decade of training with his father and it still grates on his nerves. But this is interesting; Obito’s Mangekyō must have another function to it. One eye manipulates Obito’s body, the other manipulates the world around him. The kunai came from somewhere… and that somewhere is where Obito goes when his body is intangible.
Ahh. I see.
Kakashi drops the tantō and sends Obito stumbling forward in the process. He sweeps a leg under the alpha’s, tripping him up, and catches him by the collar of his robes.
Obito’s thrown back and Kakashi follows him down, pinning him there in the mud after retrieving the tantō. Its blade hovers an inch above a spinning red eye, and Obito does not move.
Kakashi’s crescent-eyed smile is there to break the tension, but it seems to have the opposite effect. “Do you yield?”
“I—” Obito stills, trying not to breathe, sweat beading down his cheek. “You cheated.”
“Hm?”
“I can’t think straight when you’re stinking up the place.”
Ah. So he’s a sore loser, then.
Kakashi’s pheromones are still free-flowing in the air, guaranteeing Obito won’t phase out from beneath his hold. But this close, he can smell Obito’s, too, and all the underlying information within it. There’s no anger there, but there’s stress and confusion, and—
Arousal.
It’s not that Kakashi doesn’t know how he makes alphas feel, or how they look at him. But he always expected it to be different with Obito. No reason why. Obito was just… always different.
Kakashi closes his eyes and accepts it, pulling his tantō back. “An enemy won’t hesitate to weaponize their pheromones. You rely too much on that ability of yours. If you can’t teleport, how will you protect yourself?”
Obito grits his teeth and looks away, no answer there to meet him. But that scent lays bare his soul, reeking of all sorts of things—those negative emotions present after a failed mission, when people are dead, the objective is out of reach, and the whole world is wrong.
Kakashi leans in closer, parsing all the tells coming from the alpha, and Obito starts to fidget. He’s newly aware of their positions, Kakashi straddling his hips and the proximity between them, and the arousal eats away at the honest fears beneath it like a cheap perfume.
He’s worried, but it’s not his place.
The moment Kakashi suppresses his pheromones, Obito is gone. Kakashi’s knees sink into the mud, dirtying yet another set of clothes, and the cold seeps in once again. He shudders out a breath, running a hand through his hair. Above them, the blue skies disappear beneath a thick sheet of cloud.
Rin’s still sitting in a dry patch under the tree, looking around the clearing as though Obito used a substitution. “Did he… leave?”
“Yeah,” Kakashi says, sheathing his tantō and climbing out of the mud yet again.
“Can… can he do that? How?”
“He’s unlocked his Sharingan.”
“Well, yeah, so has Shisui,” she says. Ahh, yes, there was that beta she was mentoring, wasn’t there? Rin must have some knowledge of the Uchiha clan through proxy. “But he can’t just poof out of existence like that.”
They start cleaning up, packing away all the supplies scattered about. The field isn’t theirs tomorrow, and they need to make sure it’s in good condition for the next team assigned to it. Obito isn’t here to do his part, but that’s fine. This mess is theirs, not his. “His is more developed. I hear that different abilities can be unlocked, and Obito’s happens to be a little more unique.”
Rin hums her acknowledgement, flattening the ground with a Doton once they cleared the area. “What do you think?”
“Mm… it has to do with space-time. He’s phasing his body through a portal that—”
“Not about that.”
Kakashi looks up at her, his tools sinking into his inventory scroll, and waits.
“Obito,” she says. “What do you think of him now that he’s here? Are you still curious?”
The scroll loops around his belt and he rises up again, kicking off the mud splattered across his pant legs. They’re heavy with water, and he’s back to feeling like everything is sitting wrong on his body. “I’m scared,” he says, “because he’s scared. And that makes me anxious. Because I don’t know how to help.”
In the distance, the clouds open up, losing their shape as rain falls on the far side of Konoha. Like that, their training session ends.
Kakashi drags his muddied, miserable self through the front gates of the estate, drops the wards, and trudges through the main building without taking off his sandals. Even if he had, he’d still be tracking filth in, so he’s resigned to cleaning the floor after his bath. He can smell his father, so Dad must be back from his mission, but Kakashi’s one-minded at the moment and won’t stop for pleasantries until he’s cleaned.
Before he leaves the genkan, he changes his mind and takes off the sandals anyway. Habit won’t let him disrespect the family home, even if there’ll be a mess to clean up either way. Unfortunately, he’s all out of spare clothes. Getting caught in the rain didn’t help any, either.
As he’s slipping off his shoes, feeling the pinch of wet straps chaff his skin, his father pokes his head in from down the hall. “Kakashi,” he greets, looking his son over. “You’re in quite a state.”
Kakashi growls his frustrations, but there’s no bite to it. He’s a defeated man. Of all the things he expected to go wrong today, he didn’t think he would chase Obito off entirely.
“That bad, huh?”
He hooks his fingers around his sandals and drags his miserable self down the hall, dripping water across the floorboards. Sometimes, he thinks there are good aspects to no longer living with his grandfather—the lack of nagging when he makes a mess being one of them.
“Your conduct is abhorrent. If you don’t learn how to behave, you’ll never attract a mate.”
Granted, Grandfather’s words still live rent-free in his head.
It’s when he passes his father that there’s a hand on his shoulder. He looks to the side, his eyes meeting Dad’s, and he thinks some of Obito’s pheromones might still be clinging to him, even through the rain. Dad’s concerned; he hates when Kakashi comes home smelling of alpha. It’s hard to avoid in his line of work.
“Kakashi, what happened? Is everything okay?”
There it is. He wonders if it’s Obito’s arousal or the concoction of misery that his father’s picking up on. Obito sure doesn’t hold anything back. He forces back his own defeat and tries to play it off with a smile. “Our new teammate joined today. We sparred, and now I’m filthy, and I don’t like it. That’s all. Nothing happened.”
“Did he try something?”
Because Kakashi is incapable of defending himself, is that it? “No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Dad,” he warns. Sometimes his father reminds him of Grandfather. “I’d like to wash up, if it’s all the same to you.”
Sakumo shudders out a breath, his hand falling off Kakashi’s shoulder. “Go on, then. I’ll clean up out here.”
“I can—”
“Get some rest, okay?” He smiles, but it’s a tired thing. “Is Rin coming home tonight?”
“Mm. She took a detour to buy sake.”
“Sake?” Dad’s easing up now, just a bit, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Is the new guy that bad?”
Kakashi’s at the bathroom door when he looks back at his father, digging his nails into the door frame. “It’s Obito,” he says, like a weight is being lifted. This isn’t something he’s shared yet, and he’s not sure how Dad will feel about it with all the rumours floating around about the alpha. “We’re going to celebrate.”
They intended to celebrate with Obito, but Kakashi f*cked that up, didn’t he?
He escapes into the bathroom before he’s forced to share more words with his father and scrubs himself raw trying to get all the filth off his body. Whenever he thinks of it, he’s back in a marsh, the mossy ground devouring his limbs as a body bears down on him.
By the time the bath is ready, he’s scrubbed clean, his pale skin rubbed red and aching. He hands his arms over the side, cushioning his head as steam floats through the air. Every breath he takes is like mist, and he may have overheated it, but the warmth is nice after being soaked to the bone. It eases his muscles, the stress leaving his body. But he’s alone, and he’s not doing anything, and that never bodes well for him.
Why did Obito leave? What did Kakashi do to scare him off?
Kakashi hangs his head. On the other side of the door, he hears muffled voices, meaning Rin must have returned with the booze. Kakashi doesn’t drink, even if his shinobi status technically makes him a legal adult (though he’s drank sips of sake for their clan’s ancestral rites). But Rin likes having some when there’s cause for celebration—usually after they’ve pulled off a high-profile mission. Dad allows it, even if he gives her disapproving stares from across the room. He says that he would her rather drink here than out in the village so that he knows that she’s safe.
When he finally pries himself out of the path, the water is lukewarm and the sun has set. He wraps a towel around his waist and pokes his head out into the hall. Dad cleaned up the mess he left behind, and he sighs.
His room is on the second floor, so he slips upstairs and grabs something out of his closet to wear, looking at the rain through his window. It’s miserable out there. Fits the mood, really.
He’s craving something sweet.
Rin and Dad are sitting out on the engawa beneath the overhang, the screen door open as they split a bottle of sake between them. When Kakashi joins them, Rin’s already telling his father all about their day—meaning Dad’s been fishing for information.
“I’m not sure how well he’ll work out,” Rin admits. “He doesn’t seem to want anything to do with us, honestly. The guy’s completely unmotivated.”
Kakashi grabs himself tea and takes a seat next to them, staring out at the garden. There’s a small pond at the far end, ripples fanning out from the raindrops that pierce the surface, and he decides to focus on that instead of the conversation happening to his right.
“Poor pup,” Dad sighs. Of course, he doesn’t ask if Rin is okay, or if Obito did something to her. Those questions are reserved for Kakashi. “I’ve heard he had a rough go of things after his grandmother passed.”
Kakashi looks over, catching Dad in his eye. He remembers Obito’s grandmother being in and out of the hospital when they were boys… She’s passed, too?
“He and Kashi were friends, right?”
“When they were little, yes. Before he graduated.”
Rin nudges his shoulder, and he shoots her a look. She winks. Thankfully, she’s not about to share all the things Kakashi’s shared with her about their new teammate. “What do you think, Kashi? He’s a big guy, and he looks like he could hit pretty hard. Might be good to have someone sturdy on our team.”
Obito’s tall and broad, sure. He has some height on Dad, even if he’s not as bulky. “He’s clumsy. Unless we can get him to stop relying on his Sharingan, he might be a liability.”
“Yeah, but that’s what Sensei wants to work on, isn’t it?”
It is. More than anything, though, Minato wants to teach Obito control, get him socialized and better prepared to handle his oncoming rut. They have a year, maybe a little over two, before that day comes. It’s not a lot of time to unteach bad habits.
Kakashi won’t say that in front of his father, though, so all he does is nod.
Their next training session is two days later, but Obito doesn’t show. They practice without him, and Kakashi keeps glancing around, wondering if he’ll pop up partway through. Minato takes the chance to give another lecture about what to watch out for with Obito—he’s like an Obito survival guide. Granted, his wife is an alpha, and she can be aggressive, herself, so it’s not a surprise.
While Kakashi listens, he starts working on Shiden—the rehash he’s making of his failed Chidori. Purple lightning flickers to life across his hand, frenzied by his chakra, and he winces as it burns paper-thin lines across his skin. Even still, he runs with it, cutting into one of the training dummies, wood splintering apart beneath its force.
Their session ends, but Kakashi stays behind. “I want to work on the recoil,” he says, and Minato pretends to believe him.
Rin does not. “Kashi,” she sighs, exasperated, “he’s not coming. We’re done for the day. Let’s go home and I’ll patch you up, okay?”
Kakashi smiles at her. It’s a good way to placate people, he’s found. People are more likely to believe him like this. “I’ll finish up soon and meet you there later. Go on ahead.”
“Look: he skipped, okay? He might not come next time, either, and that’s not our fault.”
It is, though. Kakashi did something that Obito didn’t like.
“I really want this to work out, too,” she says. “I don’t want to sit back and watch him go feral any more than you do. But we can’t make decisions for him. If he doesn’t want to train with us, then that’s it. We have to accept it.”
Kakashi gathers chakra in his hand and unleashes it, lighting the evening sky with purple light.
“You’re more pig-headed than an alpha, you know that?”
His teammate stomps away and Kakashi is alone, distracting himself with an imperfect jutsu, glancing at the trees every time lightning splits across the field.
He doesn’t know why he’s waiting, either.
Kakashi clears the debris from the training grounds before he stops to treat his hand. He runs some water over it and sits down under a tree, rummaging through his inventory scroll for his med kit. Eventually, he pulls free a roll of bandages, but it’s a struggle wrapping them one-handed. He needs to work on his first-aid skills; having a medic on the team since he was a chūnin has spoiled him.
When he’s halfway through dressing his wounds and no better for it, he catches a scent in the air, powerful and overbearing.
Obito.
Kakashi schools his attention onto his bandages, anxious that he’ll scare the alpha away again if he makes any sudden movements, as though Obito is a baby deer. Through the silence, the alpha approaches, blocking the evening sun from Kakashi’s eyes. Carefully, Kakashi looks up.
“Want some help?”
The tension leaves Kakashi’s body, and he holds out his hand. “Would you?”
There are seconds before Obito awkwardly lowers himself to sit across from him, gingerly guiding Kakashi’s hand and unravelling the shoddy dressing. He stares at the fresh wounds for a long time, but maybe he’s looking beneath them to the thin white scars covering Kakashi’s hand. Anytime he tries to develop a jutsu, it tends to fire back at him. That’s just the nature of it. All these scars he’s gathered from years of training, of learning. They’re scars that Grandpa Senju must have had, too. Scars similar to Dad’s.
But scars like these are unbefitting of an omega, and with them, his worth diminishes.
Maybe he shouldn’t have let Obito see them.
“Should I get Rin?” Obito asks.
“It’s not that bad.”
“You didn’t even treat it. What the hell, Hatake? Where’s your med kit?”
Kakashi had banished it back to his inventory scroll after taking out the bandages. He pulls it off his belt loop and wordlessly retrieves the med kit yet again, allowing the alpha to fuss over him. It doesn’t quite feel like when Dad worries about him, and he’s not sure it’s the same as when Rin does it, either. Because of that, he’s not sure how to act or what to do, and there’s nothing to reference.
But as Obito cleans the wound properly, and as his calloused fingers gently rub cream into the burns, Kakashi starts to relax.
“What happened?” Obito asks, this big oaf gentle as a lamb as he smooths circles into Kakashi’s skin.
“Training,” Kakashi says.
“What kind of training?”
“Shiden.” He steals a glance, trying to gauge the alpha’s reaction, and only then remembers that Obito is new to the team. Shiden is something he’s been working on for a long time, so Minato and Rin are well aware of what it is and what he’s trying to do with it. Sometimes he forgets that not everyone is privy to the same information he is. “I’m developing a lightning jutsu. It’s strong, but there’s kickback. It needs work.”
There’s a pause between them as they wait for the cream to set before Obito starts dressing the wound. It’s not the uncomfortable silence that it could be. Kakashi watches the careful work of Obito’s hands, surprised that this brash, short-fused fireball still has this side to him.
Obito is kind.
“You create jutsu?”
“Now and then. I tried applying my lightning nature to Sensei’s Rasengan once, but speed was an issue. My body moved so fast that I couldn’t change direction, and it gave me tunnel vision. I had to scrap it.” As he thinks about it, he wonders if his Chidori would have worked in the hands of the Uchiha. The enhancements that it offers should be enough to curb the tunnel vision. He looks up, excited about the idea of teaching that failed technique to someone who could utilize it. “You could probably manage it with your Sharingan.”
Obito pulls back, eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just a thought.”
Kakashi tests the dressing, wiggling his fingers, and it’s secure enough. Rin will probably redo it when he’s home, though, fussing in her own way. But these bandages carry Obito’s scent now, and there’s no underlying lust or fear or stress. When he’s calm, the smell is quite nice, like oils and burning wood.
Obito doesn’t leave. They sit there together, Obito fidgeting nonstop, and eventually Kakashi manages to con him into another spar. They agree on a weapon-free taijutsu match because Obito’s reflexes need work if he’s ever to go back out on the field. But halfway through, Kakashi’s foot passes through Obito’s cheek.
The look Kakashi gave him could peel paint.
“It’s not like I meant to,” Obito rushes to defend. “I don’t gotta put thought into it; it just happens sometimes.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I mean it,” he insists. There’s a thread of anger in the air, but Obito slows down, closes his eyes, and it starts to fade. Apparently, he has a small bit of control already. It’s not enough, but it’s something. “Do you wanna… continue this in Kamui?”
“Kamui?”
“My—” Obito swipes a hand across his face, a slight flush to his cheeks. “My pocket dimension. I pass parts of my body through it to stay impermeable. When I’m there, it doesn’t operate the same. We'll be fighting on equal ground.”
So, Obito’s willing to share secrets. That’s a surprise. He thought he’d have to piece together Obito’s Mangekyō all on his own. The thought of seeing Kamui for himself is exciting. What is it like in there, he wonders?
Kakashi nods and holds out his hand. This is much more interesting than a spar, and he wanted to spar to suss out Obito’s ability anyway.
Obito’s entirely put-upon, but he’s careful when he takes Kakashi’s hand, and cautious as he guides his teammate into a dark world fit to burst with boxes.
Kakashi’s knee bumps against one of the cardboard piles, but it stands firm. The boxes are full, and they’re everywhere. Before he gets a good look at this dimension that only belongs to Obito, he needs to weave his way through clear ground.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you lived here,” he teases.
“I’m moving, alright? We can spar over there where it’s clear.”
Forget the spar; Kakashi wants to explore. He walks between stone pillars that shoot into the infinite void above with Obito trailing miserably behind him. Kamui is cold, chillingly so, and dark. Yet despite the dark, everything is perfectly clear.
“There’s nothing here,” Obito yells, his voice echoing throughout Kamui, making it feel all the more empty. “You’re wasting your time, Hatake!”
That’s fine. Sating his curiosity is more important. “How far does it go?”
“I dunno. When I tried to find out, I got bored.”
“How can we see?”
“What?”
“There’s no light source, but the ground is well-lit.”
Obito pauses only for a second. He hasn’t thought about that, has he? “Don’t worry about it.”
Kakashi wants a higher vantage point. He body-flickers to the peak of a random stone pillar and stares out at the vast nothingness below. They’ve been walking a while, but he can still see the boxes off in the distance. He takes a seat and Obito joins him, their legs hanging over the edge. This world isn’t all that comfortable, but it’s not horrible, either. The stone is cool against his skin, and he imagines in the fever of heat or rut, it would be welcome. Dad will sometimes take ice baths when his rut comes to try to regulate his temperature. Being in here feels like being stuck in a fridge, but the stone is almost like ice.
Against all odds, Obito came back. They’re here together now, sharing secrets, and he wonders if this means they’ll be okay.
“Is this where you plan on spending rut?” he asks.
Obito’s face heats up, and he keeps his eyes forward, staring fixedly at one of the boxes. He’s embarrassed. How cute. “I can’t,” he says. “I know you’ve heard what they say about me. They all think I’ll lose it.”
Obito’s just as aware of it as the rest of them are. He must be scared.
“My Mangekyō might make me dangerous, so I’ll have to be chakra-bound or something. But if I can’t use the Sharingan, I can’t come and go, and no one else can access this place. I’ll probably just… ride it out at home or something. I dunno. Still got some time before I gotta worry about that.”
“Chakra binding can cause stress,” Kakashi says. “A better solution may be to seal your Sharingan. Talk to Minato-sensei when the time comes. He’ll help you with it.”
Obito nods. His pheromones are thick in the air, fear and anxiety smothering the earthy scent that Kakashi’s been enjoying since Obito arrived. Rut is terrifying to him, and that’s understandable; he’s at risk of going feral, of hurting himself or others, and he doesn’t want that.
Because Obito, even after all of this, is kind.
“I could help you.” When the words slip free, Kakashi finds them to be honest. He doesn’t want to bed an unstable alpha, and yet here he is, offering himself up. Obito never propositioned him, never came onto him, and he doesn’t want to mate this alpha. But if he could ease some of that stress, even just a bit… maybe it would be worth it.
Obito rolls his eyes and scoots away, as though Kakashi’s sentiment will infect him. “Piss off, Hatake. I’m not a charity case.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I’m not gonna mate you, either.”
Kakashi sighs and wilts, and the subject is dropped. He won’t push the issue if his help isn’t wanted.
But he hopes Obito can find someone to rely on, even for a while.
It takes a few weeks for Obito to adjust to their presence. Until then, he’s a bit flighty. Obito and Rin fight like cats and dogs (not that that surprises anyone) but they never take it too far. Being on a team with another alpha long-term is hard on their new recruit, but not as hard as trying to ignore the resident omega.
Kakashi’s flattered, really. The bigger the challenge, the more improvement Obito will make. He’ll gladly be the thorn in everyone’s side if it means Obito improves.
When Obito’s less likely to disappear halfway through a training session (which is, unfortunately, a regular occurrence) they recruit Kushina to test him out. If he can keep his composure around her, then they can celebrate.
Kushina drops by the training grounds with lunch, Naruto strapped to her back. Immediately, Obito’s on the far side of the clearing, his back to a tree like a cornered animal. But he hasn’t left yet. That’s something.
Their jinchūriki is about as alpha as someone can get: loud and crass, strong-willed with a short temper. But she has better control over herself than Obito does, even though she was also considered a risk well before Kakashi’s time. Who knows? Maybe she’ll inspire Obito.
“Hey, Kid! Tobi!”
Then again, she can’t even get his name right. Kakashi is endlessly amused.
“Aren’t you hungry? Move your ass!”
Obito bristles, digging his hand into the dirt. “I’m fine!” he calls back. “I had a late breakfast. And it’s Obito.”
“Obi, Tobi, whatever. Don’t skip meals! You’re a growing boy.”
Obito better not still be growing. He’s tall enough.
They break for lunch and the team gathers around, allowing Obito his space. The last thing they need to do is back him into a corner; if Obito needs to keep his distance for now, that’s fine.
Later on, Naruto somehow gravitates over to the big, scary alpha. He's upset that no one will let him play with their weapons, and Obito humours him by teaching him to apply leg wrappings that Obito doesn't ever use. It's sweet, a bit, how easily he takes to the pup.
“I think Nart likes him,” Kushina says, arms folded over as she gathers empty containers into a pile. “Damn, Minato. When you asked for my help, I thought we’d be dealing with a jackass. Look at ‘em! They're so cute together. Does he have siblings?”
Minato rubs the back of his neck. “No, he's on his own at the moment. His clan is quite large, but it seems he's been ostracized from them.”
“He's good with kids though… Better than Kashi, anyway.”
Kushina shoots him a teasing grin and he sighs.
It's true, though: Kakashi is terrible with children. He can't understand the way they think, and that makes them impossible to predict. Predictions are how he navigates difficult situations; if he can't understand someone, he’s absolutely lost on what to say to them or how to act. But he tries. Maybe he fails more often than not. Maybe he’ll never improve. That's just life.
Kakashi will make a terrible father. His poor future children.
In all honesty, Obito saved him. Naruto was flustered and red-eyed after being denied his toys, and Kakashi is terrible at comforting children. Obito was merciful enough to come over and distract Naruto, and even got him to stop crying.
But the job Naruto is doing of tying those leg wraps is abysmal.
Kakashi takes a minute or two to recompose and tries again. If Obito can make progress, then so can he. He strolls over to them and gently takes the roll from Naruto's hands, rolling back up the mess of bandages on Obito's leg. "It needs to be tighter," he says, demonstrating. "Like this. You don't want it falling off, do you?"
Naruto shakes his head, watching Kakashi until the roll is handed back and he tries again, Kakashi's hand guiding him along the way.
Naruto watches them spar, cheering Obito on with his full chest. This kid has known Obito for an hour, and already has a new idol.
Maybe that's why, when Obito pins him, Kakashi can't gather the strength to set himself free.
Naruto’s excitement is well worth his first loss.
Kakashi returns home to find his father already hard at work in the garden. It’s maintenance day, and all the empty buildings in the estate need to be dusted, cleaned, and checked for damage. Each building is usually an hour’s affair, and they don’t need to check the main building, Rin’s apartment or the weapons shed, so that’s five hours of work. That suits Kakashi just fine; the busier he is, the better.
Mom used to say that buildings are like people: they thrive in company and wither alone. When a home is empty and uncared-for, it starts to degrade. The brutalities of summer humidity and winter cold eat away at it, and if cracks go unnoticed, they’ll spread and bring the whole thing down.
Well, figuratively. Kakashi has yet to find any urgent repairs needed in the estate.
Out of uniform and in his casual clothes, Kakashi gathers his supplies and pads out onto the engawa in his slippers. Dad waves him over, skin sun-bright and looking a little burnt. He always gets the strangest tan lines in the summer.
“Welcome home, Pup. How was training?”
The mental fortitude Kakashi needed to tolerate Naruto today has pushed him past his limit, and the thought of exchanging social niceties with anyone at all is crushing. He gives his father a dismissive wave and drags himself into the first building, sliding the door shut behind him. He might feel guilty if it wasn’t obvious where that conversation thread would lead.
Dad’s terrified of Obito. More specifically, of Obito touching his son.
Kakashi looks out at the main hall, already spotting cobwebs in the corners. The winter is worse for it. Bugs will crawl in to escape the cold, and every spring Kakashi finds spider nests, ants and centipedes to chase out. He wouldn’t mind them using the place if they didn’t attract even more unwelcome visitors.
Naturally, the shōji screens are the first issue he notices. It’s common for them to rip and tear, especially after the violent storms they’ve been having, but patching them up is an easy fix, so he takes note of adding shōji paper to his weekly supply run. When he ducks into the main sitting room, he finds mould growing in one of the tatami mats. Sure enough, there’s a leak in the roof that needs patching. There’s some wood rot, but nothing extensive, and this will be a job for another day.
Most of these houses are still furnished. There are pictures on the walls of people Kakashi has never met, families of three and four and six. He sees Grandpa Hatake in several of them, and when the dust is wiped clean, he sees Grandpa Senju, too.
Their clan originated from the mountains that now make up Kumo, but by the Warring States Era, they’d become nomadic. They were one of the first clans to join the Senju and Uchiha in the formation of Konoha, and they were once just as prosperous. But war is ugly and unfair, and by Kakashi’s time, their numbers had dwindled to a small family of four.
Grandpa had a sister once, and his cousins filled out these empty buildings. By the time Dad made it to chūnin, most of them were already gone. There are still descendants of the Hatakes living in Kumo somewhere, but the family name is lost, and much of their history was lost with it.
Kakashi really could be the last one. That was Grandfather’s greatest fear.
He scrubs at the floor and buries these thoughts. The war is over now, so he might live to see his father’s age, and things don’t feel as urgent as they once did. He can take the time to attend to his team guilt-free, even if there’s a ghost at the back of his head still feeding him lies. Obito’s situation takes priority, maintaining the estate is a never-ending job, his clan duties need to be met, and Kakashi…
Kakashi will always be an afterthought.
