[ And speaking of issues, Kakashi's latest potential issue is walking down the path to Konoha, in clothes that are little more than rags framing a skinny form. Dressed in white, said issue is most notably a street urchin, even if he looks too clean to be one
( ... )
There's the briefest of pauses before he turns, slowly, glancing over his shoulder as he steps around to face the man -- boy? child? that'd said his name. And at first, when he looks at him, clothed in all his white, looking almost deceptively skinny and frail, Kakashi hasn't the faintest fucking idea who he is.
But then it registers, and he frowns, unseen from under the mask, his fingers twitching lightly against his side. There's no way. After all this time? And what the hell would he be doing here --
He'd have to be . . . seventeen? Sixteen?
Kakashi rubs at a spot on his arm, the muscles sore from overuse, and he looks at Byakuran for another beat or two, absolutely silent and still as that man with the child brushes past him, disappearing around the nearest corner. ]
[ Byakuran pauses and tilts his head, studies him and sizes him up for himself. He's taller than they said he was, and for some reason, there's something about the older man that's oddly different. A power, he thinks, a strength that the teen recognizes almost on instinct.
He'd always been wearing that mask, hadn't he? Byakuran remembers trying to tug on it once before, a long, long time ago, almost buried in forgotten memories. He starts closer, then, cautiously, still somewhat unsure of the reception that he will get.
After all, it will be troublesome if Kakashi decides to attack him, too. But he smiles, faintly. ]
[ Kakashi is cautious, but that's only natural. He's run into children before that had every intention of taking his head off, and it's really hard to trust anyone these days, no matter the age. But Byakuran -- he's hard to forget. He'd been unique as a child, and he's still unique today, and yeah, Kakashi remembers those eyes well, that fair head of hair and even fairer skin.
Admittedly, he doesn't know a lot about Byakuran's country. They'd kept to themselves, locked back inside their walls, and he'd always had more important things to worry about, other issues and clans he'd needed to focus on. Namely, the Uchihas.
He taps his fingers against his elbow almost idly, and then he smiles, stepping forward just as Byakuran does, extending a gloved hand in his direction. ]
[ Byakuran's quiet, for a moment, already a consummate actor at his age, but still very much just a teenager. He shifts on his feet, with worn out shoes that probably wouldn't be able to last another mile. And everything aside, Byakuran is tired (he has to be, to make this work). Wiping at a dirt-smudged cheek, he starts a little closer and reaches out a hand carefully, every inch an abandoned child, a survivor from the carnage that had happened in Sky Country.
He doesn't smile - not yet, not openly, as he meets Kakashi's eye (he wonders if the other had a Sharingan, like he'd heard before. Wouldn't that be something? He doesn't doubt that Kakashi's one of the very best, and he very much would like to see the other man in action.) He nods, hand clasping his uncle's, and murmurs. ]
[ Kakashi can see him better now, once he steps into the dim streams of light offered by the lit lanterns scattered all over the village. His fingers close tight around the back of Byakuran's hand, and he holds onto it for a beat or two longer than he should, his face void of emotion as he looks him over, he looks like he's been through hell. Then what --
He lets go, but he doesn't move back or away, visible eye falling down past his face, to glance over those tattered clothes he's wearing. Well, whatever it is, Kakashi is 100% sure it's not going to be good news, and that's. Unsurprising. Most thing are. ]
-- So it would appear. [ Finally, he glances over his shoulder, in the direction of his home, and he turns, holding out an arm for Byakuran, gesturing him forward. ] Come.
[ He follows, obedient, taking in the sights of the unfamiliar village, a place that bears scars of earlier battles and then some. He thinks of rumors of the Uchiha, of Akatsuki and how, frankly, they're nothing more than things that are getting in his way.
Nonetheless, he knows that he has all the time in the world, plenty of time to orchestrate his machinations - if all his other selves were anything to go by. He pads along after him, feeling the bumpy road (but still ultimately smoother than before) against the soles of his feet.
The place is silent now, dark and almost like a ghost town, and Byakuran doesn't remember when he's last been in a town like this. Odd, isn't it? They're like little toy houses like this, neat and set all in a row. He doesn't stray far from Kakashi, before he asks quietly. ]
[ Kakashi keeps walking, passing Kurenai on his way to his house, and smiling idly, lifting two fingers in a small salute at her questioning look. It only takes about three minutes to get there, and he stops in front of his door, opening it and ushering Byakuran inside.
Once he's past the threshold of the door and into the house, he flips on the light, pausing there to rub his hand over his face, sighing against his fingers.
What the hell could it be now?
Kakashi looks up, nodding his chin in the direction of a table, as he closes the door behind him. ]
He looks over at Kurenai curiously in return, not recognizing her before he follows Kakashi into the apartment and settles down on the chair. He's taking in his surroundings, coming to his own conclusions (because one can always see what a person is like from the way their homes are decorated.)
Hands on his lap, near slouching forward (he thinks he'd like a good nap right about now, really. And marshmallows. Where could he get proper marshmallows and candy?) he meets Kakashi's eyes, expression carefully unreadable.
He knows Kakashi's skill in reading people, in sensing their thoughts, and he doesn't need that now, not when he hasn't yet had a proper gauge of this enigmatic, intriguing uncle of his. ]
If Kakashi at all pauses in surprise, it's barely for a second before he's moving again, crossing over the room to the shelf sitting in the corner. He moves back to Byakuran a minute later, setting down a pair of clean clothes on the table next to him. ]
They'll be a little big.
[ His fingers curl against the fabric of the clothing, before his hand slides off, resting against the smooth wood of the table. Kakashi looks at Byakuran, carefully, eyeing his face, the expression there, the way he holds himself, like a damaged child.
Because that's what he is, right? But --
Kakashi pulls out the chair next to Byakuran, the wood creaking as it goes, and takes a seat. ]
[ Byakuran's distracted, staring at the clean clothes set before him, the cloth of it, and the way Kakashi's hand slides smoothly onto the table without so much as a sound. He looks back at him again, almost dazed - it's what children who have been traumatized feel, right? He's seen it enough, taken enough lives to mimic it completely.
Funny, how taking one life after another gets easier as you go along.
He doesn't touch the clothes, not yet. ] ...I don't remember. I woke up under what was left of our house, and no one's left alive.
[ He gingerly tugs on the dirtied bandages on his arms, fidgeting. ] Mother and Father are dead.
[ That's really not a story that Kakashi, as a practiced jounin, should accept. There's not enough detail, Byakuran doesn't remember, so that leaves room for too many questions, too many possibilities, and yet -- he can't really not believe him, either. Kakashi stares at him like he'll be able to figure out whether or not he's lying just by looking at him, and with most people, he would, and from all that Byakuran is giving him, from the way he reacts to everything around him, it doesn't seem like he's lying.
But that doesn't tell him a lot either. Kakashi is naturally biased, and he realizes and accepts that.
Kakashi looks away, staring at a spot on the wall across from them, as he drums his fingers against the top of the table, considering Byakuran's words. Damn. His parents? ]
He doesn't say anything at all for a little bit, letting the silence settle over them heavily, like a blanket full of unspoken words. It's awhile before he eventually stands up, moving to rest his hand on the top of Byakuran's head. ]
You should change and rest. There's a spare bedroom at the end of the hallway.
[ It looks like he wouldn't be getting any sleep, however. He'd have to speak to the council. ]
[ He looks over at him blankly, then at the hallway. Every inch the street urchin, he's cautious, before he gets to his feet, taking the stack of clothes with him.
Kakashi's warmth is familiar, and if he focuses, he thinks that he can remember the time when he climbed onto his back and was afforded a piggyback ride around the courtyard. ]
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Uncle Kakashi -- ?
There's the briefest of pauses before he turns, slowly, glancing over his shoulder as he steps around to face the man -- boy? child? that'd said his name. And at first, when he looks at him, clothed in all his white, looking almost deceptively skinny and frail, Kakashi hasn't the faintest fucking idea who he is.
But then it registers, and he frowns, unseen from under the mask, his fingers twitching lightly against his side. There's no way. After all this time? And what the hell would he be doing here --
He'd have to be . . . seventeen? Sixteen?
Kakashi rubs at a spot on his arm, the muscles sore from overuse, and he looks at Byakuran for another beat or two, absolutely silent and still as that man with the child brushes past him, disappearing around the nearest corner. ]
Byakuran.
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He'd always been wearing that mask, hadn't he? Byakuran remembers trying to tug on it once before, a long, long time ago, almost buried in forgotten memories. He starts closer, then, cautiously, still somewhat unsure of the reception that he will get.
After all, it will be troublesome if Kakashi decides to attack him, too. But he smiles, faintly. ]
So you remember me, after all.
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Admittedly, he doesn't know a lot about Byakuran's country. They'd kept to themselves, locked back inside their walls, and he'd always had more important things to worry about, other issues and clans he'd needed to focus on. Namely, the Uchihas.
He taps his fingers against his elbow almost idly, and then he smiles, stepping forward just as Byakuran does, extending a gloved hand in his direction. ]
I wasn't aware you were coming.
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He doesn't smile - not yet, not openly, as he meets Kakashi's eye (he wonders if the other had a Sharingan, like he'd heard before. Wouldn't that be something? He doesn't doubt that Kakashi's one of the very best, and he very much would like to see the other man in action.) He nods, hand clasping his uncle's, and murmurs. ]
I wasn't left with much of a choice, uncle.
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He lets go, but he doesn't move back or away, visible eye falling down past his face, to glance over those tattered clothes he's wearing. Well, whatever it is, Kakashi is 100% sure it's not going to be good news, and that's. Unsurprising. Most thing are. ]
-- So it would appear. [ Finally, he glances over his shoulder, in the direction of his home, and he turns, holding out an arm for Byakuran, gesturing him forward. ] Come.
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Nonetheless, he knows that he has all the time in the world, plenty of time to orchestrate his machinations - if all his other selves were anything to go by. He pads along after him, feeling the bumpy road (but still ultimately smoother than before) against the soles of his feet.
The place is silent now, dark and almost like a ghost town, and Byakuran doesn't remember when he's last been in a town like this. Odd, isn't it? They're like little toy houses like this, neat and set all in a row. He doesn't stray far from Kakashi, before he asks quietly. ]
Don't you want to hear about my news?
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[ Kakashi keeps walking, passing Kurenai on his way to his house, and smiling idly, lifting two fingers in a small salute at her questioning look. It only takes about three minutes to get there, and he stops in front of his door, opening it and ushering Byakuran inside.
Once he's past the threshold of the door and into the house, he flips on the light, pausing there to rub his hand over his face, sighing against his fingers.
What the hell could it be now?
Kakashi looks up, nodding his chin in the direction of a table, as he closes the door behind him. ]
Please, sit.
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He looks over at Kurenai curiously in return, not recognizing her before he follows Kakashi into the apartment and settles down on the chair. He's taking in his surroundings, coming to his own conclusions (because one can always see what a person is like from the way their homes are decorated.)
Hands on his lap, near slouching forward (he thinks he'd like a good nap right about now, really. And marshmallows. Where could he get proper marshmallows and candy?) he meets Kakashi's eyes, expression carefully unreadable.
He knows Kakashi's skill in reading people, in sensing their thoughts, and he doesn't need that now, not when he hasn't yet had a proper gauge of this enigmatic, intriguing uncle of his. ]
Sky Country is no more.
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If Kakashi at all pauses in surprise, it's barely for a second before he's moving again, crossing over the room to the shelf sitting in the corner. He moves back to Byakuran a minute later, setting down a pair of clean clothes on the table next to him. ]
They'll be a little big.
[ His fingers curl against the fabric of the clothing, before his hand slides off, resting against the smooth wood of the table. Kakashi looks at Byakuran, carefully, eyeing his face, the expression there, the way he holds himself, like a damaged child.
Because that's what he is, right? But --
Kakashi pulls out the chair next to Byakuran, the wood creaking as it goes, and takes a seat. ]
What happened?
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Funny, how taking one life after another gets easier as you go along.
He doesn't touch the clothes, not yet. ] ...I don't remember. I woke up under what was left of our house, and no one's left alive.
[ He gingerly tugs on the dirtied bandages on his arms, fidgeting. ] Mother and Father are dead.
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But that doesn't tell him a lot either. Kakashi is naturally biased, and he realizes and accepts that.
Kakashi looks away, staring at a spot on the wall across from them, as he drums his fingers against the top of the table, considering Byakuran's words. Damn. His parents? ]
You don't remember anything?
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[ He reaches out, then, plucking at the threads. His nails are dirtied, and it's obvious that he's used to things that are better than this.
Byakuran listens, briefly, watching the movement on his fingers, before he finally offers - ]
There was a lot of screaming. And fire.
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He doesn't say anything at all for a little bit, letting the silence settle over them heavily, like a blanket full of unspoken words. It's awhile before he eventually stands up, moving to rest his hand on the top of Byakuran's head. ]
You should change and rest. There's a spare bedroom at the end of the hallway.
[ It looks like he wouldn't be getting any sleep, however. He'd have to speak to the council. ]
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Kakashi's warmth is familiar, and if he focuses, he thinks that he can remember the time when he climbed onto his back and was afforded a piggyback ride around the courtyard. ]
...Is it safe, here?
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It is. You don't need to worry, Byakuran.
[ His hand falls away, drops back to his side, and Kakashi nods again in the direction of the hallway. ]
I'll be back in a bit.
[ And then he's moving to the door. ]
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