Title: Bedtime
Word Count: 523
Kakashi had very few memories of being a child. This is not to say he didn’t remember things that happened when he was a child. Rather, he remembered those things far too well. What he could not remember was being a child. He’d made his first kill by the age of five, and that seemed to have been the end of that.
There were times, though, when he was sure he had been one. Even someone as serious as himself couldn’t escape the simple inexperience of being a child in an adult world. For the most part, these moments were forgotten because they were unimportant. He had one, however, that he treasured.
After his father’s suicide, his sensei had taken him in and become his caretaker until Kakashi could at the very least reach the counter tops- though they had lived together until Yondaime’s death. For several days after he first moved in, Kakashi would awaken from terrible nightmares. It didn’t help that when he woke up he didn’t know where he was.
Exhausted and miserable, Kakashi had one night decided that it was high time he got his six-year-old self back home. Even if home smelt like death and blood, the room and the bed would still be his. He’d somehow convinced himself that going to back would make everything terrible that had happened simply disappear. It wasn’t rational, but to his tired six-year-old brain that didn’t quite understand how permanent death was- in spite of being its inflictor several times over- it made sense.
There was a major flaw in this plan, however, and that was that he simply couldn’t get out. The wards on the door were simply more powerful then he was, and try as he might the door wouldn’t yield to his small demands. Eventually, he’d collapsed on the floor. He was spent, his chakara and energy gone, and frustrated that he couldn’t make things right. He couldn’t help it. Being all of six-years-old he only had one coping mechanism. He started to cry, and he’d cried himself to sleep curled up in front of the door.
It could have been hours, but may have been minutes, later he woke up to someone scooping him gently into their arms. It was warm there, and since his head was pillowed against a shoulder as his sensei held him close to his chest, Kakashi didn’t feel inclined to move. The Yellow Flash had carried him back to bed, and gently tucked the blankets up to his chin. After a slight pause, he’d leaned down and gently kissed the boy’s forehead. “I’m right next door, Kashi-kun, and I promise not to make fun of you if you need something, okay?”
Kakashi had muttered something sleepily before closing his eyes and drifting to sleep again.
Kakashi wasn’t that little boy anymore, and no one would think of telling him to come to them if he had nightmares. But he couldn’t help but think, as he picked up the small blonde boy who’d fallen asleep on the couch to carry him to bed, that life seemed to have a sort of beautiful symmetry.
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Chapter notes: Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. Make sure to read this in the universe context, or it won't make sense!