For the first time in a long time, Hatake Kakashi was visiting his father’s grave. It was unmarked as was customary for dishonorable deaths, and the gravesite was far removed from the village. Overgrown weeds tangled themselves about the area obscuring the grave from view; he was surprised that he even remembered where it was.
The people of Konoha once knew Hatake Sakumi as “The Great White Fang”, a hero. His fall from glory was a result of a single failed mission, but an important one nonetheless. His choice to save his own team members ultimately cost the village many other lives, which could have been averted with the completion of his mission. Overwhelmed by guilt and shame, Sakumi took his own life, his legend forever tainted with the blood of his village.
Sakumi’s own son was once the greatest perpetrator of this hatred. Then there was Uchiha Obito; he freed Kakashi of his resentment. Obito too was gone now, but a part of him lived on in Kakashi; Kakashi’s left eye, a Sharingan, was Obito’s last gift.
Dad, Obito…
Their faces seemed so close…
A small hand slipped itself into Kakashi’s larger one. He looked down in surprise at the little girl; she couldn’t have been more than four years old.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “My daddy committed seaweed too.”
Kakashi didn’t know how to respond to this. His eyes were wide with shock at the boldness of the girl, and the corners of his mouth were twitching with the desire to laugh.
“Sachiko-chan! It’s time to go back to the village. Your uncle is waiting to meet you!” yelled a woman from the periphery of the graveyard. Most villagers avoided it as though it were cursed.
The child slowly released her grip on Kakashi’s hand and turned her head to face him. She had stunningly beautiful pink eyes. They were so clear that Kakashi felt as though he was looking straight through them.
“Sorry, I have to go now” she said politely with a bow before running off with her short black curls bouncing playfully behind her.
“What a strange kid” muttered Kakashi, smiling lightly all the same; he was grateful for the brief distraction; it was never easy to think about his father. He knelt down in the grass and meticulously peeled back the weeds from the grave. The moon was up before he had finally finished. Hands shaking, he traced his father’s name in the freshly exposed dirt. Tears were streaming out of his left eye.
“Obito, stop crying…” but now his right eye was tearing up as well.
He hastily dried his face with his sleeve and placed his ANBU mask in its proper position. It was time to leave; if he didn’t get some sleep now, he’d be later than usual for his mission.
I still think you’re a hero.
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