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Jan. 18th, 2008 11:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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darksideofstorm
Prompt: More than one Kakashi
None of the Kakashis belong to me.
Warnings: violent, so AU you don't even want to know
Kakashi made her way along water’s edge and then ambled up to the bar. Duo was sitting outside, fiddling with a bit a tech in the sunlight. “Don’t touch” he mumbled, barely comprehensible around his mouthful of screwdriver. He popped in a small piece and dropped the screwdriver into his palm. Looked up at Kakashi. “Someone arrived this morning. Blue kicked me outside, Hayate’s guarding the door, and you’re the only one allowed in.” He gave her a grimace and tucked his face back down to the bit of machinery in his lap.
Fuck.
Kakashi looked at the door of the bar. Hayate guarding? Who could have arrived that Kisame would have recruited Hayate to guard the door? She ran her hands absently over her weapons and stole closer to the door. She slipped off her wide brimmed hat, careful with the ribbons and stepped inside.
The bar was dark, and at first Kakashi could only make out the shape of a man about her size standing at the bar with Kisame. Hayate greeted her with his usual manners “You know Kakashi, I always thought you were an asshole, and only just now realized how much worse it could have been.” Kakashi raised an eyebrow at him, and as her eye finally adjusted, she looked at the new arrival.
Her height, unruly grey hair sticking up, with a long coat draped across a bar stool and a large hat… the man turned to look at her and Kakashi shuddered. Her breath stuck and she couldn’t breathe and then Hayate’s hand was gentle on her arm, fingers warm and grounding. “Breathe” he whispered, and Kakashi hitched a shuddering breath in and for a moment leaned into the reassurance Hayate offered and understood what Genma had seen in him.
The man at the bar was herself. Was Kakashi. His face less delicate, and she thought he looked male, just a little more male than herself. The hat and the coat too clearly alluded to the Third and Fourth to make this man anything other than Hokage. She tried to hold onto those observations because the other was the most disquieting: the man at the bar looked at her with two grey eyes.
Kakashi shoved her bandana up and fought down nausea as she saw her own chakra patterns in another person. Not quite her own, really… and her sharingan swirled as she looked at how her chakra would have looked without the disruption of her transplanted eye.
Obito’s eye.
Her eye.
She watched as the other Kakashi widened his eyes, and his chakra control wavered at the sight of her mismatched scrutiny. Kakashi walked to the bar and leaned into Kisame, who obliged with a comforting arm around her waist. Kisame pulled and she settled against him, feeling his gills flair against her. Sentimental bastard, smelling her for his own reassurance, and he pinched her hip slightly in response to her flair of gentle, familiar amusement.
Kakashi waited. Both Kakashi waited, assessing scars shared and unique, body language and clothes. Kisame rubbed one hard calloused thumb against his Kakashi’s hip and wondered if all versions of Kakashi liked big hats.
Finally eyebrows drew down over two grey eyes, and their owner asked in clipped tones “Will you cover up that aberration and explain yourself?”
Kashi nudged against Kisame with her face and he pulled down her bandana, big hands gentle against her face, and Kakashi didn’t bother to suppress a smirk at her doppelganger’s fleeting expression of distaste. She waited a moment and replied “I lost mine on that mission. This is ‘Bito’s eye, Rin transplanted it.” She continued in a tighter voice at the twitch of incomprehension. “When Obito died. Crushed under the rocks.”
“Obito was killed along with the rest of the Uchiha.” A haughty chin lifted at the large blue man behind Kashi. “That man’s partner in the Akatsuki. Bloody difficult to replace an entire police force. Rin died shortly after.”
Even without her sharingan uncovered, Kakashi caught the minute twitch in his hand as he mentioned Rin, and she knew, fuck, she knew right away, and felt Kisame stiffen behind her even as she drew a sharp breath. “You use it anyway, you arrogant fuck.”
The pale man’s gaze didn’t quite meet hers anymore, and a spot of colour appeared on his cheeks. “Sensei told you not to use it because you couldn’t control it, and the only reason I can is the eye and you USE IT ANYWAY AND YOU FUCKING KILLED RIN.” Kakashi could barely hear the sharp slide of Hayate’s sword drawing, and she only then realized she was shouting.
Kakashi stepped away from Kisame and sprawled against the bar as nonchalantly as she could manage. She crooked a finger at the other Kakashi’s hip pouch. “Hand over your bingo book.” He paused, and she raised an eyebrow, eyes flicking to Hayate at the door, and Kisame solid at her back. With a scowl, he fished out his bingo book and tossed it on the bar. Kakashi handed it back to Kisame, who started leafing through, with the occasional suppressed grunt of surprise.
Kakashi took a moment to readjust her worldview to include a version of herself that didn’t keep a copy of Icha Icha, or some other porn in their hip pouch. She fought the urge to ask if he carried it somewhere else. Lost. “Where do you keep your porn?”
That startled him. “A book to read, some porn…” she persisted and he boggled at her before sputtering “That’s your question? What’s wrong with you?”
Kakashi waved dismissively at him, not bothering to answer. As if there was something wrong with her.Kisame splayed the book open on the bar, and Kakashi looked down to see a familiar face looking up at her. The masked picture didn’t look to different from her own bingo book picture, but where her picture showed a skewed headband over one grey eye, this one showed a hitae-ite carefully centred about two grey eyes. Hatake Kakashi, the Lightening Ninja.
Of course. No sharingan, no Copy Ninja. This wasn’t Sharingan Kakashi, wasn’t the master of a 1000 justu, wasn’t the laid back lazy ninja whose world had ended and had happily adjusted to waitressing at an S-class criminal’s beach bar.
“Why are you Hokage?” she asked, handing the book back to Kisame.
The grey haired man bristled and drew himself up. “I was the obvious choice,” he replied in a haughty voice. “The Sannin are drunks and criminals, Sarutobi’s son died in the war…”
Kakashi closed her eye for a moment. Asuma. Asuma had almost died on patrol with her once, and she’d got them out with a set of water jutsu she’d copied from a rogue Mist nin. “Your students” she asked, and he looked at her blankly.
No doubt smelling her unhappiness, Kisame prompted “Students. Three aggravating brats. The pink haired girl, Itachi’s little brother, and the demon brat.”
The only response was thinned lips, a look Kisame easily recognized even under black cloth as the same response from his waitress that indicated he’d aggravated her enough that locating weaponery was probably a good idea.
Asking after others didn’t go any better. Some of her colleagues were dead, others were apparently beneath this Kakashi’s notice. Kashi almost punched the sneer off his face when he dismissed Gai as an overly muscled freak. It took two tries before she understood that not only had he not taught Sasuke, but that in his world Sasuke had been wiped out with the rest of the Uchiha. “Close knit mutated bastards” he said evenly, and Kashi turned and walked out of the bar, blinking in the bright sun.
She pushed up her headband and watched the world swirl into the comforting, tiring red and black. There was Duo, working on his tech, her surrogate student. Just as deadly in his own way as Sasuke. She rubbed at her face.
All these years. She had failed Obito, and he had failed, and then she had carried his eye. She had adjusted to it, the mark that she was fallible, adjusted to the burden of carrying Obito with her, and learned to relax. Learned to be late, and enjoy small pleasures. Learned how to live past failure and grief. She had become stronger, shaped by her scars.
She drew her kunai from her arm holster, and felt the familiar weight. The ivory hilt, the gift from her sensei on her first cluster fuck of a jounin mission. She was past Hayate and into the bar before any of the three men saw her. One hand buried in thick grey hair, yanking back, the other holding her knife at a now arched throat she waited her eyes to adjust back to the darkness. Held Kisame’s eyes and pressed a kiss into the familiar smell of her own shampoo, watching as her sometime lover’s lip curled up to reveal a hint of sharp teeth.
“They were aiming for Obito” she said, remembering “Aiming for him, and I got in between and saved him,” she moved the knife up and slit the mask so it fell away. “But I wasn’t fast enough, and took a hit to my face.” She trailed the knife up, and the man twisted in her arms but couldn’t get away. A thin line of blood welled up. “ ‘Bito was a better person than us.” Kakashi whispered, and flipped the man onto a table. His hat fell as she vaulted and landed on his chest. Now his mouth was set with rage, but not until Kashi flipped one handed through a silencing jutsu did fear start to show in his eyes. They were wide until she brought the knife down, and then screwed shut, and he convulsed under her. “And I’m a better ninja than you.” Now each Kakashi had only one grey eye. Kakashi closed her swirling red eye and touched her fingers to the wet red mess in the other’s eye socket. “Or a more dangerous ninja, at least.”
He was bleeding all over the table, and onto the floor, and Dick was probably only at market and would be pissy, no doubt, to come home and find that Kakashi and Kisame had killed someone. Again. The man under her tried to gather chakra to his hand, a slowly gathering chirp chattered in the bar, and Kashi slit his throat.
darksideofstormPrompt: More than one Kakashi
None of the Kakashis belong to me.
Warnings: violent, so AU you don't even want to know
Kakashi made her way along water’s edge and then ambled up to the bar. Duo was sitting outside, fiddling with a bit a tech in the sunlight. “Don’t touch” he mumbled, barely comprehensible around his mouthful of screwdriver. He popped in a small piece and dropped the screwdriver into his palm. Looked up at Kakashi. “Someone arrived this morning. Blue kicked me outside, Hayate’s guarding the door, and you’re the only one allowed in.” He gave her a grimace and tucked his face back down to the bit of machinery in his lap.
Fuck.
Kakashi looked at the door of the bar. Hayate guarding? Who could have arrived that Kisame would have recruited Hayate to guard the door? She ran her hands absently over her weapons and stole closer to the door. She slipped off her wide brimmed hat, careful with the ribbons and stepped inside.
The bar was dark, and at first Kakashi could only make out the shape of a man about her size standing at the bar with Kisame. Hayate greeted her with his usual manners “You know Kakashi, I always thought you were an asshole, and only just now realized how much worse it could have been.” Kakashi raised an eyebrow at him, and as her eye finally adjusted, she looked at the new arrival.
Her height, unruly grey hair sticking up, with a long coat draped across a bar stool and a large hat… the man turned to look at her and Kakashi shuddered. Her breath stuck and she couldn’t breathe and then Hayate’s hand was gentle on her arm, fingers warm and grounding. “Breathe” he whispered, and Kakashi hitched a shuddering breath in and for a moment leaned into the reassurance Hayate offered and understood what Genma had seen in him.
The man at the bar was herself. Was Kakashi. His face less delicate, and she thought he looked male, just a little more male than herself. The hat and the coat too clearly alluded to the Third and Fourth to make this man anything other than Hokage. She tried to hold onto those observations because the other was the most disquieting: the man at the bar looked at her with two grey eyes.
Kakashi shoved her bandana up and fought down nausea as she saw her own chakra patterns in another person. Not quite her own, really… and her sharingan swirled as she looked at how her chakra would have looked without the disruption of her transplanted eye.
Obito’s eye.
Her eye.
She watched as the other Kakashi widened his eyes, and his chakra control wavered at the sight of her mismatched scrutiny. Kakashi walked to the bar and leaned into Kisame, who obliged with a comforting arm around her waist. Kisame pulled and she settled against him, feeling his gills flair against her. Sentimental bastard, smelling her for his own reassurance, and he pinched her hip slightly in response to her flair of gentle, familiar amusement.
Kakashi waited. Both Kakashi waited, assessing scars shared and unique, body language and clothes. Kisame rubbed one hard calloused thumb against his Kakashi’s hip and wondered if all versions of Kakashi liked big hats.
Finally eyebrows drew down over two grey eyes, and their owner asked in clipped tones “Will you cover up that aberration and explain yourself?”
Kashi nudged against Kisame with her face and he pulled down her bandana, big hands gentle against her face, and Kakashi didn’t bother to suppress a smirk at her doppelganger’s fleeting expression of distaste. She waited a moment and replied “I lost mine on that mission. This is ‘Bito’s eye, Rin transplanted it.” She continued in a tighter voice at the twitch of incomprehension. “When Obito died. Crushed under the rocks.”
“Obito was killed along with the rest of the Uchiha.” A haughty chin lifted at the large blue man behind Kashi. “That man’s partner in the Akatsuki. Bloody difficult to replace an entire police force. Rin died shortly after.”
Even without her sharingan uncovered, Kakashi caught the minute twitch in his hand as he mentioned Rin, and she knew, fuck, she knew right away, and felt Kisame stiffen behind her even as she drew a sharp breath. “You use it anyway, you arrogant fuck.”
The pale man’s gaze didn’t quite meet hers anymore, and a spot of colour appeared on his cheeks. “Sensei told you not to use it because you couldn’t control it, and the only reason I can is the eye and you USE IT ANYWAY AND YOU FUCKING KILLED RIN.” Kakashi could barely hear the sharp slide of Hayate’s sword drawing, and she only then realized she was shouting.
Kakashi stepped away from Kisame and sprawled against the bar as nonchalantly as she could manage. She crooked a finger at the other Kakashi’s hip pouch. “Hand over your bingo book.” He paused, and she raised an eyebrow, eyes flicking to Hayate at the door, and Kisame solid at her back. With a scowl, he fished out his bingo book and tossed it on the bar. Kakashi handed it back to Kisame, who started leafing through, with the occasional suppressed grunt of surprise.
Kakashi took a moment to readjust her worldview to include a version of herself that didn’t keep a copy of Icha Icha, or some other porn in their hip pouch. She fought the urge to ask if he carried it somewhere else. Lost. “Where do you keep your porn?”
That startled him. “A book to read, some porn…” she persisted and he boggled at her before sputtering “That’s your question? What’s wrong with you?”
Kakashi waved dismissively at him, not bothering to answer. As if there was something wrong with her.Kisame splayed the book open on the bar, and Kakashi looked down to see a familiar face looking up at her. The masked picture didn’t look to different from her own bingo book picture, but where her picture showed a skewed headband over one grey eye, this one showed a hitae-ite carefully centred about two grey eyes. Hatake Kakashi, the Lightening Ninja.
Of course. No sharingan, no Copy Ninja. This wasn’t Sharingan Kakashi, wasn’t the master of a 1000 justu, wasn’t the laid back lazy ninja whose world had ended and had happily adjusted to waitressing at an S-class criminal’s beach bar.
“Why are you Hokage?” she asked, handing the book back to Kisame.
The grey haired man bristled and drew himself up. “I was the obvious choice,” he replied in a haughty voice. “The Sannin are drunks and criminals, Sarutobi’s son died in the war…”
Kakashi closed her eye for a moment. Asuma. Asuma had almost died on patrol with her once, and she’d got them out with a set of water jutsu she’d copied from a rogue Mist nin. “Your students” she asked, and he looked at her blankly.
No doubt smelling her unhappiness, Kisame prompted “Students. Three aggravating brats. The pink haired girl, Itachi’s little brother, and the demon brat.”
The only response was thinned lips, a look Kisame easily recognized even under black cloth as the same response from his waitress that indicated he’d aggravated her enough that locating weaponery was probably a good idea.
Asking after others didn’t go any better. Some of her colleagues were dead, others were apparently beneath this Kakashi’s notice. Kashi almost punched the sneer off his face when he dismissed Gai as an overly muscled freak. It took two tries before she understood that not only had he not taught Sasuke, but that in his world Sasuke had been wiped out with the rest of the Uchiha. “Close knit mutated bastards” he said evenly, and Kashi turned and walked out of the bar, blinking in the bright sun.
She pushed up her headband and watched the world swirl into the comforting, tiring red and black. There was Duo, working on his tech, her surrogate student. Just as deadly in his own way as Sasuke. She rubbed at her face.
All these years. She had failed Obito, and he had failed, and then she had carried his eye. She had adjusted to it, the mark that she was fallible, adjusted to the burden of carrying Obito with her, and learned to relax. Learned to be late, and enjoy small pleasures. Learned how to live past failure and grief. She had become stronger, shaped by her scars.
She drew her kunai from her arm holster, and felt the familiar weight. The ivory hilt, the gift from her sensei on her first cluster fuck of a jounin mission. She was past Hayate and into the bar before any of the three men saw her. One hand buried in thick grey hair, yanking back, the other holding her knife at a now arched throat she waited her eyes to adjust back to the darkness. Held Kisame’s eyes and pressed a kiss into the familiar smell of her own shampoo, watching as her sometime lover’s lip curled up to reveal a hint of sharp teeth.
“They were aiming for Obito” she said, remembering “Aiming for him, and I got in between and saved him,” she moved the knife up and slit the mask so it fell away. “But I wasn’t fast enough, and took a hit to my face.” She trailed the knife up, and the man twisted in her arms but couldn’t get away. A thin line of blood welled up. “ ‘Bito was a better person than us.” Kakashi whispered, and flipped the man onto a table. His hat fell as she vaulted and landed on his chest. Now his mouth was set with rage, but not until Kashi flipped one handed through a silencing jutsu did fear start to show in his eyes. They were wide until she brought the knife down, and then screwed shut, and he convulsed under her. “And I’m a better ninja than you.” Now each Kakashi had only one grey eye. Kakashi closed her swirling red eye and touched her fingers to the wet red mess in the other’s eye socket. “Or a more dangerous ninja, at least.”
He was bleeding all over the table, and onto the floor, and Dick was probably only at market and would be pissy, no doubt, to come home and find that Kakashi and Kisame had killed someone. Again. The man under her tried to gather chakra to his hand, a slowly gathering chirp chattered in the bar, and Kashi slit his throat.
