Fic: That's just like you
Title: That's jut like you
Characters: Hatake Kakashi, Senju Tobirama, Hatake Sakumo
Warnings: character study, dysfunctional family, angst
Words: ~ 400
Summary: Whores could be paid. Paid to sleep with you. Paid to love you and your disfigured soul.
Or paid to keep the child until it was born and weaned off.
The hair is telling. A shade of gray that is a anomaly and not a sign of early aging.
Cold bitterness fills Tobirama. This must be relative.
But he was never married.
His only love died in the war and no one wanted to marry a necromancer. As useful as Edo Tensei seemed on the battlefield, woman believed it to be a bad sign. It was against the natural order. Why have children, when you can just as easily rise the dead?
Tobirama found his pleasures noneless. Whores seldom cared as long as he paid.
Paid them to leave after he was done.
He searches his mind, tries to compare Kakashi's face with the woman he slept with.
Impossible with the mask, bu the mask is a statement on its own.
The second Hokage suspects beauty beneath it, not horrible scars.
When he asks, he is told that Kakashi's father was the same. White hair, hiding is face all the time. Died of suicide.
Damned. His blood indeed.
But it isn't the worst, no. Much more horrible is that Sakumo didn't have a mother. Neither had Kakashi.
Tobirama signs. It's an old practice. For shinobi every healthy child was another man in times of war. No one cared about bastard children, when wives are a metaphor for alliance. Most of them only shared their husbands bed as often as they were forced to. Living in a separated wing made it easier.
And whores?
Whores could be paid. Paid to sleep with you. Paid to love you and your disfigured soul.
Or paid to keep the child until it was born and weaned off.
Tobirama doesn't remember his mother. Hashirama always said she vanished into the trees one day and never came back.
He can't bring himself to ask, if Kakashi's memories look like his own.
(No, they don't. Because Kakashi never had a half-brother.)
Characters: Hatake Kakashi, Senju Tobirama, Hatake Sakumo
Warnings: character study, dysfunctional family, angst
Words: ~ 400
Summary: Whores could be paid. Paid to sleep with you. Paid to love you and your disfigured soul.
Or paid to keep the child until it was born and weaned off.
The hair is telling. A shade of gray that is a anomaly and not a sign of early aging.
Cold bitterness fills Tobirama. This must be relative.
But he was never married.
His only love died in the war and no one wanted to marry a necromancer. As useful as Edo Tensei seemed on the battlefield, woman believed it to be a bad sign. It was against the natural order. Why have children, when you can just as easily rise the dead?
Tobirama found his pleasures noneless. Whores seldom cared as long as he paid.
Paid them to leave after he was done.
He searches his mind, tries to compare Kakashi's face with the woman he slept with.
Impossible with the mask, bu the mask is a statement on its own.
The second Hokage suspects beauty beneath it, not horrible scars.
When he asks, he is told that Kakashi's father was the same. White hair, hiding is face all the time. Died of suicide.
Damned. His blood indeed.
But it isn't the worst, no. Much more horrible is that Sakumo didn't have a mother. Neither had Kakashi.
Tobirama signs. It's an old practice. For shinobi every healthy child was another man in times of war. No one cared about bastard children, when wives are a metaphor for alliance. Most of them only shared their husbands bed as often as they were forced to. Living in a separated wing made it easier.
And whores?
Whores could be paid. Paid to sleep with you. Paid to love you and your disfigured soul.
Or paid to keep the child until it was born and weaned off.
Tobirama doesn't remember his mother. Hashirama always said she vanished into the trees one day and never came back.
He can't bring himself to ask, if Kakashi's memories look like his own.
(No, they don't. Because Kakashi never had a half-brother.)