Sakumo Hatake getting rejected from his crush but he doesn't take no for an answer
tw: noncon, stalking, yandere, breeding, age difference, power imbalance, domestication, semi-public sex
All characters depicted are 18+
Sakumo Hatake has had some especially bad luck as of late. His wife had died very recently, leaving him to raise their two year old son alone, his missions have been getting more stressful too, but luckily the White Fang has found a silver lining to all of this; a cute civilian girl that has caught his eye.
She's a cute little thing, much younger than him and his late wife, but still old enough. Sakumo has made a habit out of watching her from afar around the village, for her own safety of course, and he's reached the conclusion that she's perfect for him, she's young, innocent, kind, just the perfect wife and mother for his needs.
Being a revered shinobi among the people of the Hidden Leaf Village, Sakumo feels rather confident in his ability to woo her, so he'll ask her out directly, letting it slip that he's been watching her for quite some time without her knowing. She is very unnerved by the revelation from the man old enough to be her father, so she understandably rejects him, and Sakumo doesn't like that one bit.
He tries to convince her that being with an acclaimed ninja like himself would be good for her, but no dice. Never being one to let things go easily, Sakumo decides that now he has no choice left but to take matters into his own hands.
"Don't move... This will feel good for both of us. Maybe you'll finally stop being shy and realize your feelings for me after I fill you up..."
He'll clamp a gloved hand over her mouth in the alleyway, telling her to be quiet lest someone hear them. He's one of the most respected ninja in the village, so nobody would believe her if she claimed he assaulted her, if anyone saw what was happening, they'd assume she was just being a needy slut for the White Fang.
Sakumo isn't too rough with his delicate little housewife to be, buy he's certainly forceful, bullying his cock inside of her until it's hitting her perfectly fertile womb with every thrust, the sensation making her whine and whimper into his hand as he claims what's rightfully his.
His thrusts will speed up slightly when he imagines knocking her up, making her round with his second child and giving Kakashi a sibling, the mere thought triggers the wolfish primal instinct to breed deep within him, and she is the perfect receptacle for these dark urges of his.
He'll be sure to fill her up thoroughly before he's done with her, gently pulling out of her while informing her of some great news; she's the newest member of his family and clan, whether she likes it or not.
"Atta girl, that wasn't so bad was it? You're just perfect for me, and I know you'll be the perfect mother that my little son needs..."
Sakumo is finally content now, he has a much cuter and much younger wife to replace his dearly departed one, Kakashi has a much needed mother figure, and the Hatake clan is about to gain a new member in just nine short months.
The nights at the Hatake Residence used to be peaceful.
The tree outside the window revealed, as usual, its silent life through the rustling of its leaves, and the curtain swayed with the gentle breeze; all those small things formed a quiet domestic harmony. The energy of your home.
Today, especially, everything seemed to fall apart, even in the smallest moments. Even the salt shaker you had dropped on the kitchen floor while preparing dinner seemed to be trying to tell you something. You hadn’t had the courage to clean anything.
Perhaps it was the anxiety over Sakumo’s arrival, since he hadn’t informed you of his condition since leaving for a high-risk mission. Not even a single letter.
That made you dwell on every negative thought that hovered in your mind, and, ashamed of thinking such terrible things, you quickly tried to drive them away with false optimism.
A single tug at your nightgown pulled you out of your trance. You hadn’t even noticed you were repeatedly smoothing the lace fabric, as if searching for some comfort.
—Did something happen to Dad? —Kakashi spoke in his typical monotone voice. He seemed far too aware of the situation, even though he was only a child.
—He hasn’t spoken to Mommy yet, sweetheart. At this hour, he should be arriving soon. —You tried to reassure him, smoothing his white, tousled hair. He looked like a small pine tree covered in snow.
Although well-intentioned, your comfort seemed to be in vain, as Kakashi merely took a deep breath and pressed his face against your nightgown.
—I’ve got a bad feeling, Mom. —He said it with a muffled voice, full of sincerity.
—Kakashi. —You called him with a smile, kneeling in front of him. With your hands on either side of his small face, you continued. —Dad promised he’d come back. He always keeps his promises, doesn’t he?
He nodded, still showing no reaction behind the mask. Yet there was something in his gaze that unsettled you.
—So, my love, he’s fine. —You paused for a moment, suddenly realizing you needed to be honest with him. —Maybe he’ll come back with a few scrapes, but we’ll take care of him, all right?
—Okay…
The knock on the front door made Kakashi’s expression light up like the stars outside. His gaze returned to you, carrying a hint of apprehension. Still, that knock was unmistakable and peculiarly calm.
There was no doubt that the one at the door was Sakumo.
—It’s Dad, Kakashi. You can open the door. —You gave his hair a quick ruffle before he slipped out of your grasp and ran to the door as if he had just received the greatest gift of his life.
The door creaked open. A shiver ran through your entire body as an unusual metallic scent filled the air. That smell alone made your pupils constrict — deep down, you already knew what it meant.
—Sa… Sakumo?
The image burned itself into your mind, just like the dried blood that seemed to stain every piece of fabric Sakumo wore.
Kakashi’s eyes blinked frantically, and for a moment, your only thought was to find any excuse to get him out of there. Protecting him from that horrific scene became your main mission.
Although the boy was used to such sights, this one traumatized him deeply.
You moved closer to him while Sakumo slowly slumped against the door, his head held high and his eyes tightly shut.
—Kakashi, I’ll take care of this. For now, just grab a wet cloth and the bandages, okay? They’re in that bathroom cabinet.
Kakashi nodded dazedly and immediately ran to the bathroom.
Your gaze returned to Sakumo. Could he have been caught in an ambush? Situations like that were common, but this time it seemed he had nearly lost his life in the field.
With trembling legs, you stumbled partway toward him as the feeling of nervousness intensified. Meanwhile, Sakumo watched you with the purest expression you had ever seen.
The sparks emanating from his gaze did not belong to a ninja who killed without hesitation. They belonged to a husband who, even in the most difficult situations, never stopped thinking of his wife.
—How…? —was all that escaped your tormented lips.
—The mission… It was a failure. —His gentle voice carried a painful darkness.
He was blaming himself for the failed mission. Not only for this one, but ever since he had been promoted to “Team Captain,” he blamed himself for any mistakes made during operations.
What worried you most was your husband’s condition. It seemed there had been no medical ninjas in the field, since injuries like those should have been treated immediately.
The white-haired man was still bleeding, having run a long distance to make it home.
—You came back to the village alone? What happened to your teammates?
—I gave the signal to retreat and waited until we were no longer being pursued. The mission became far more dangerous than I was informed… —He paused, placing a hand over his blood-soaked abdomen. —I didn’t want to bring danger here, and even so… I failed so badly.
—No, my love. You chose to abandon the mission rather than put your companions’ lives at risk. That wasn’t a failure, Sakumo — it was compassion. —You hugged him gently, afraid of hurting him further.
Sakumo, on the contrary, wrapped you completely in his arms, resting his head on your shoulder.
In a brief instant, Kakashi was already kneeling beside him with everything you had asked for. Immediately, you stripped him of the heavy equipment and began cleaning his wounds. It was agonizing to hear Sakumo’s labored sighs with each touch of the damp cloth, and from then on, it became even more evident how cruel people could be.
At least now he was home, where he would be carefully loved and could recover in peace — at least physically, since he seemed to have been mentally struck by guilt.
Kakashi held his calloused hand tightly throughout the treatment, as if afraid he might disappear at any moment. You placed your hand over his tiny one, and when you caught his distressed, childish gaze, you smiled reassuringly at him.
“Everything’s going to be okay, love,” your eyes said.
“I know, Mom. We’re going to take care of him,” his replied, with the dimples you loved so much at each corner.
The early morning hours were filled with a strange yet comforting atmosphere.
The world seemed to have come to a complete standstill, wrapped in silence, save for the owl hooting from a distant tree branch.
You put Kakashi to bed — but not before the reading he insisted on every night — and soon after, you lay down beside your husband.
The sheets were finally warm again with Sakumo’s return, and his unique scent of misty pine lingered in the covers. You had missed that aroma so much that the nights had become uncomfortable without him.
After tending to him, his body was almost entirely covered in white bandages, already yellowing, and the metallic odor had completely vanished, replaced by an herbal balm.
Sakumo took a long time to fall asleep, shifting in bed with every twinge of pain from his wounds. In an attempt to soothe him, your fingers gently stroked his snow-white hair, while his tense breathing gradually eased into calmness. After so many days tormented by insomnia and fear of ambushes, sleep finally claimed him.
Now, fully asleep on the feathered pillow and holding you with the little strength he had left, it was certain that he would soon recover.
Summary: The sun is setting and the village is coming alive to celebrate, including yourself and your friends. As you dress and laugh in the Hatake house, some lingering looks and heated touches are exchanged secretly with your friend's father.
Pairing: Hatake Sakumo/Fem!Reader
Rating: Teen
Prompt: Clan/Family/In-Laws
Content Warning for age difference, banter, flirting, the casual intimacy of someone helping you dress
Author’s Note: in this wonderful little AU, we're going to happily pretend nothing bad happens, ever. For the sake of romance and fun. As such, Kakashi might seem rather ooc. He hasn't been jaded by his father's suicide, but neither has he witnessed Obito die for him. He has development, he cares for his friends, but he's still a stuck-up bit of a shit. Reader, Kakashi, Obito, and Rin are around 23
(I also threw in a cameo of my oc, Akari, for the fun of it. But don't worry too much about her - she's only vaguely mentioned!)
@narutodilfweek
Ao3 Link
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"We're gonna be late!" Rin stresses as she puts the finishing touches on her makeup, nose pressed to the mirror hanging in the hallway. You're inclined to agree as you struggle to tie your obi, twisting this way and that in front of the bathroom mirror, the door open so you can hear your friends.
Kakashi had (begrudgingly) invited everyone to his house to get ready for the festival. Your and Rin's places are each too small, and Obito insisted that if everyone started the festival at the compound all plans would swiftly fall to pieces. Nosy and traditional neighbors would spark rumors about Obito's marital status, Shisui would invite himself in through the window, dragging Akari, who would also drag Itachi, who would drag Sasuke, Sasuke would bring his squad, and suddenly everyone would be yelling and laughing and pre-drinking and no one would even make it to the festival before the fireworks started.
Which is exactly what happened the last time your friends had all gathered at Obito's for the new year festival, so you're inclined to agree that the Hatake house is the best option.
It's only a bonus that it just so happens to be the home of Hatake Sakumo, who you have not been harboring a crush on for some months, thank you very much.
(Rin had given you a knowing look when it was agreed Kakashi would be hosting the "preparation party" as she liked to call it. You'd kicked her in the ankle beneath the table of the restaurant, shooting daggers as she blinked at you innocently.)
Obito rolls his eyes as he watches her, arms linking inside the wide sleeves of his red yukata. "Late for what? Festival always goes 'til like, dawn, and the sun only just started to set. It's impossible to be late."
"Yes! And you -" she pauses to point a finer at him, brow arched, "Told your cousins we'd meet them in front of the compound at dusk. It takes ten minutes to walk there from here, even if we left now we'll still be late, we might even miss them entirely and they could already be -"
Kakashi interrupts her. "Relax. They know Team Minato are never on time," a flat look leveled at Obito, who splutters, "and they wouldn't go on without us. Akari'll keep them ... entertained."
You snort a laugh as arguments immediately devolve, Rin not acting as her usual mediator as she begins pinning flowers into her hair. You still struggle to tie your obi, leaving the bathroom in a huff as you begin to pace up and down the hall. Arms twisted against your back, muttering beneath your breath - and then a broad palm comes down on your shoulder, making you startle.
"Let me," Sakumo says, and you turn your head to find him smiling, and oh, that just isn't fair. He looks completely at ease out of his jonin uniform, the light fabric of his nagagi complimenting the silver of his hair. The sleeves are loose and informal, the fabric crossing over his chest a bit lower than standard, exposing a few inches of his broad chest. His normally wild and unkempt hair falls loose around his face, his normal tail weaved into a braid down his back.
Your eyes trace the curve of his smile, the way his dark eyes linger on your own. Not fair.
When you'd first heard the rumors of him, you'd have expected nothing less than a big brute of a seasoned shinobi, with a harsh view of the world and incapable of being anything other than utterly serious with a stick up his ass, like most top-tier nin. Maybe he would even look down on you, as a civilian. Kakashi was a bit of a prick; he means well -mostly- but he had been fawned over his whole life as a genius and prodigy, especially as the son of the White Fang. You expected his father to be the exact same as Kakashi, except older.
But then Sakumo had turned out to be ruggedly handsome, and incredibly kind and good-natured and warm. Freely-given smiles, and a soft way of speaking that always bellied welcome. The perfect man. Who is also your friend's father. God is punishing you.
You shove away your thoughts as you nod at Sakumo's words, flush lighting your cheeks as you turn your back to him, holding out the dragging ends of your obi. Sakumo takes them from you, his hands grazing yours just for a moment; his touch sends a thrill up your spine. His hands are gentle and quick as he expertly folds and ties the wide fabric of your obi, and you wonder if he's done this before.
It's the sweetest sort of torture, having his hands on you without actually being on you, with his tall and broad frame warm against your back. If you close your eyes, you can almost see it; your expression schooled into a gentle smile as you hold yourself still, Sakumo close enough your hair brushes his nose as he leans down, hands at your waist. And then the obi drops, and he's parting the folds of your kimono over your chest, broad palm slipping beneath the sagging fabric to run his calloused hand over your breast -
His arm comes around you to press the front of the belt tight against your stomach, your eyes fluttering open as you bite down what you think might have been a soft moan. The rational part of your brain tells you he's simply ensuring everything sits flat and even; but the thrill that catches in your chest wonders if he simply wanted an excuse to touch you, just a bit more intimately. Your eyes glance down the hallway, but Rin had apparently finished with the mirror, and bickering voices can be heard from the front of the house. You're alone, but at any moment someone could turn down the hall -
You're not doing anything wrong. He's helping you tie your belt, Kakashi would have done the same. Well, you think with a frown, maybe not. He is a bit of a dick, after all.
Sakumo folds the excess fabric over the knot, securing it over the top of your obi. You turn your head and glance down your back, and from the bunching of fabric you're able to see he's done a simple taiko, mimicking the appearance of a box. You smile in gratitude, lifting your eyes to find Sakumo standing fan closer that you thought.
Your breath catches as you tilt up your chin, tip of your nose brushing against the line of his jaw. Sakumo's hands come up to your shoulders, keeping you in place; whether it's an encouragement of a warning, you don't know.
"How does it feel?" Sakumo asks, his voice low enough that it makes you bite your lip as you fight a shiver.
Like a current of awareness through your every nerve. Like the hint of something secret, forbidden. Like you're about to do something ridiculous, like kiss your friend's dad.
Your hands come up to the front of your obi, fingers tucking under the fabric and giving an experimental tug. The knot holds, the fabric not so much as dipping. You swallow thickly, and turn your body slowly. Facing Sakumo, you glance upwards and find him watching you, the smallest smile curving his mouth. His eyes are impossibly dark, though there is a warmth of affection clear in his eyes. Your lips part as you find yourself lost of words, instead bringing your arm up to place your palm over his hand, fingers tracing his scarred knuckles.
"It feels perfect. Thank you." Not nearly as perfect as it would feel if someone were to rip it off me entirely, however.
Sakumo smiles, nodding at your words. Neither of you move, even as you muster your courage, moving to twine your fingers through his. You gaze up at him from beneath your lashes, feeling something giddy behind the clench of your stomach. Sakumo had always treated you well, always had a smile to freely offer. He was just so easy to talk to, much more approachable than his son. It's no wonder you'd started to feel a familiar heat lick its way up your spine each time he so much as looked at you.
His hand moves, turning until his palm presses against yours. There is a flicker of doubt in his eyes, something very nearly uneasy, and you feel a surge of anxiety begin to pluck at your heart in response. You hadn't been seeing only what you wanted to see, all those times you thought he'd been looking at you far too close, for a moment too long. It makes you feel light as air, as butterflies beat against your stomach and chest. Sakumo opens his mouth, leaning down as though to murmur something soft for only you to hear. You tilt your head to meet him, his mouth brushing just over you cheek as he says your name, your eyes fluttering shut -
"Let's go!" Obito's voice rings out from down the hall, making you startle. And with that, the sudden spell is broken, as Sakumo stands to full height. He gives your hand a parting squeeze, his smile just the slightest bit strained, and then he's brushing past you.
You take a moment to compose yourself; fanning your face to help dispel your flush and fighting to even your breathing. But the smallest smirk curves your mouth as a feeling of conviction surges through your veins. You smooth a hand down your hair, straightening your obi as your smirk widens before you turn to walk to the front of the house. It's clear as glass, really, that he's just as affected by you as you are of him. The breathless laugh you swallow down tastes almost like victory, and you school your giddy smile as you turn the corner.
Rin holds tight to Obito's offered hand as she pulls on her sandals, small bag hanging from her wrist and tongue between her teeth as she fights not to stumble. Kakashi leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watches his squad. His dark blue yukata is informal, the fabric loose enough over his chest that you can see the skintight black shirt he wears beneath, attached mask curved over the lower half of his face. He doesn't wear his hitae-ate, making his hair fall forward over his eyes.
He looks up as you approach, inclining his head in acknowledgment. You still feel the burn of Sakumo's hand on your skin, through the fabric of your kimono, and hope Kakashi isn't clever enough to determine the reason for your blush as he shoves off the wall and offers you his arm.
"Not forgetting anything?" Sakumo asks as he steps into his sandals, watching the way you move past him and go to Kakashi.
"It's not like that matters. We're all probably coming back here after the festival, oyaji," Kakashi points out, as you gently put your palm in the crook of his elbow. Obito and Rin are similarly linked, standing outside the door and bickering quietly, though the brunette is smiling warmly as Obito watches her with unrestrained warmth.
"Can't fault a man for wanting to keep things organized," Sakumo says to Kakashi with a roll of his eyes, ushering for the both of you to step through the open door.
"You're one to talk," Kakashi says with an arched brow, nodding at his father.
Sakumo looks confused, and when you peak past him you make a surprised noise in your throat. You decision is made before you even realize it, as you pull away from Kakashi to step back into the kitchen. Your hands reach for the haori that hangs on the back of a chair, and you shake out the fabric gently, smiling as you spot the lining inside decorated with flowers and hounds.
You bite your lip as you step up to Sakumo, holding up the fabric and jerking your chin for him to turn. Two pairs of black eyes watch you, before Sakumo smiles that same warm smile and holds out an arm. You help him into the haori, bottom lip caught between your teeth and palms smoothing over his shoulders and lingering, just a little. With a breath you insist to yourself isn't shaky, you step in front of him and reach for the pale cords of the haori. You can feel Sakumo silently watching as you tie a simple knot, holding the thin jacket together across his abdomen.
"There," you whisper, fingertips grazing up his chest in a moment of bravery. "Now we're even," you add with a smirk, glancing up to catch his eye.
There's something unreadable in his expression, in the way he watches you so openly. Sakumo moves to capture your fingers with his own, his touch calloused but tender.
"Thank you," he murmurs, low enough for only you to hear. You feel your face heat in response, only managing to nod. You glance over his shoulder to see Kakashi has left, though you feel no disappointment at the fact he hadnt waited for you. It's more like a sense of misplaced relief, perhaps.
Rin has one of Kakashi's hands in hers, Obito's in the other. They're still impatient to leave, halfway down to the road already. You find yourself smiling indulgently at the sight, and tilt your head up to catch Sakumo's eye.
"I've been ditched. Care to escort me to the festival?" You ask, no bitterness coloring your tone. Neither you nor Kakashi really wanted to be stuck with one another, even if it was only for the travel time and presumably, the first few minutes of all your gathered friends huddling in a circle and arguing about what to do first before inevitably dispersing into groups of twos and threes.
You're not really in the mood for a party, you think as your pulse heightens, Sakumo studying you in a stretching silence that brings embarrassment to your chest. You're more in the mood for a good conversation, and maybe for a tall and handsome man to proudly have you on his arm.
"It would be an honor," Sakumo finally responds, his hand still holding yours. Your smile is immediate and instinctive, stomach clenching nervously.
He moves your hand to the crook of his elbow, and as you step out of the house your friends only give you a cursory glance -you pointedly ignore the way Kakashi's brows furrow above his dark eyes- before you're all walking down the lane.
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( + extra author’s note)
Yes, yes, I know. It ends a bit abruptly. "Jules," you say, "you wrote 2400 words and nothing happened." lISTEN I KNOW OKAY. I fully intend to write a Part 02, wherein the festival happens and things escalate between you and Sakumo. But to be perfectly honest I've been feeling burnt out lately when it comes to writing fics, so I wanted to at least get this published. If there's interest it'll probably light a fire under my ass to write the next part, so please don't hesitate to tell me what you think x
Pairing: No romantic pairing, but interactions between Sakumo and Kakashi; mainly about Sakumo Hatake
CW: Suicide
Length: 3.8k+
TRIGGER WARNING! THIS FIC MAY BE VERY TRIGGERING TO THOSE WHO DEAL WITH SUICIDE OR SUICIDAL IDEATION. PLEASE USE YOUR BEST DISCRETION AS THIS FIC DEALS WITH SENSITIVE TOPICS
Inspired by my attempt to get in Sakumo’s head and to try and figure out what he was thinking. Also an attempt to help me process the suicide of my friend. Loosly inspired by a song I wrote about my friend’s suicide trying to get into his head when it happened.
“I’m going to do my best, you know?”
Sakumo sat at the gravesite. He didn’t know if there was any point to it, didn’t know if he believed in an afterlife, or if there was an afterlife, if she could even hear him.
Maybe he was doing it more for his own peace of mind. And if that was the only benefit that came from talking at her grave, well, that was okay with him. But just in case she could hear him, he wanted her to know.
“If only you could have seen him. He’s so tiny. I didn’t know anything could be so small.” He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I’ll be the best father I can be to him. I’ll set a good example, and love him so much. I’ll love him enough for the both of us. I’d do anything for him. Just you see…”
~
Sakumo was a phenomenal ninja, well known and well respected throughout the village. Even at such a young age, Kakashi could see that. These weren’t memories that Kakashi would remember as he got older, as much as he wished he would. But he remembered the feeling, remembered what it was like to have all eyes on them at all times, every time they went out.
Besides being a natural talent, Sakumo was kind. Kakashi remembered that well, and it was clear in the few pictures he had of Sakumo. Some people just had that kind of face. It was just another reason that Sakumo was so beloved in the leaf.
Sakumo was much prouder of his legacy for being kind than he was for his abilities. It was something he wanted, more than anything, to pass on to Kakashi. “Anyone can become a strong ninja with hard work and dedication.” He would tell his son before the young boy could even talk. “And there are lots of benefits to being strong. You can protect others, save them.”
He gave a crinkled smile as Kakashi grabbed his finger in his tiny little hand, teething on it. “But I’ll tell you something. It’s not knowledge that too many people have. But you can save people, too, by being kind. Being a good friend can save someone’s life just as much as being a good ninja can.”
Sakumo hadn’t become a ninja because he enjoyed fighting or killing; he became a ninja because he enjoyed helping others. Being a shinobi was just another way he could do that. Whether he was working on a mission or home in the village, Sakumo was always doing his best to help someone.
Despite how deeply he loved those around him, there was a distance between Sakumo and those in the village. He was revered and loved, but a heart like Sakumo’s was rare, almost too rare. The very thing he was loved for was what kept people from being able to get too close; they couldn’t understand him, the way that he thought, how he saw the world. It never bothered Sakumo too much, though, as long as those around him were safe and happy.
Sure, Sakumo’s life could feel lonely sometimes without those deep connections, but he had a purpose. And he’d had that connection with Kakshi’s mom. Though their time together was too short, way shorter than he ever would have imagined, he was grateful for it. And he could spend the rest of his life building that bond with his son.
Kakashi was always a quiet, serious child, though. He hadn’t inherited Sakumo’s natural affection or ability for seeing the best in people. That much had been clear when they’d met Might Duy and Guy for the first time. Sakumo had been baffled by the way Kakashi had so openly and blatantly questioned Guy’s worth and abilities.
While he’d put him in his place in front of the ninja, back at home, Sakumo couldn’t help but to bring it up again. He went to Kakashi’s bedroom, sitting on his bed.
“I’m sorry,” Kakashi told his dad again, meeting his eye steadily. He always did own up to his mistakes. “I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, or to dishonour you.”
Sakumo shook his head, couldn’t help but sigh. “This isn’t about me, Kakashi.” He said, hands folded and hanging between his legs. “It’s not even necessarily about that boy, either.” He thought over his words carefully, wanted to make sure that whatever he said, it was something that stuck with his son.
“You know, I think Guy will grow up to be a great ninja, Kakashi. He has something you don’t have.” That got the young boy’s attention. “He has heart. You were born with your father’s natural talent,” He gave him a sly grin. “But if you don’t have the heart that Guy does, what’s your purpose? What is the use for all that talent?”
Sakumo patted Kakashi’s leg, not missing the skeptical look on his son’s face, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. The skeptic in him; that was all his mother.
“And besides,” Sakumo continued. “Even if he doesn’t become a great ninja, who cares? What does it matter? But do you know what does matter?” He paused, making sure Kakashi was really listening. “It matters how you made that little boy feel earlier. You know, I was proud to see you step in to protect him against those ninja… But I think that he would have rather let them beat him into the ground than have you look at him with such disdain, to look down on him because he didn’t know how to fight back. You don’t know what he’s been through, why he’s trying so hard to do something that he’s not naturally good at. You don’t know his purpose, or whether or not he’s hanging on by a thread. If the words you said to Guy were the last ones he’d ever heard, would you be happy with that?”
Getting up, Sakumo walked to the door slowly. Hand on the doorknob, he stopped. “You never know when you’ll see someone for the last time, Kakashi. You never know who needs a kind word. Whatever you do in life, make sure every moment counts.”
It was ironic, Kakashi would think to himself over the years. The philosophy that shaped the way Sakumo treated others could have been the same one that saved his life.
~
He knew his role as a shinobi. He knew everything that this mission meant, how much the Leaf needed him to succeed. But he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t.
Sakumo would love to pretend like it was a hard decision, like he had even considered going through with the mission rather than saving his comrades.
But he didn’t. It wasn’t a question in his mind. The lives of his fellow shinobi were on the line, and in this instance, it wasn’t worth completing the mission at the expense of losing them.
And Sakumo knew, he knew that the decision would be controversial, knew that he would suffer the consequences. He was going to upset a lot of people on top, but it was worth it. Being a shinobi meant making hard decisions, and this was part of that. The importance of the mission didn’t outweigh the weight of his comrades' lives, and so he saved them.
And while he knew the backlash that would come from his decision, he never could have imagined just how viciously the village he loved, even the friends he saved, would turn against him.
Sakumo had seen a lot of evil in his life. So much violence and chaos, complete disarray. He’d see death and destruction, people dedicating their whole existence to hurting others. But it’d always been an “us vs them” mentality. It was much easier, he thought, to hate someone you didn’t know, who you had no connection to.
But these people, this village; they were Sakumo’s heart. His whole reason, his purpose for being. They were why he’d become a ninja in the first place. He’d only wanted to protect the people that he loved so dearly.
And they used to love him.
The silence on their way home was deafening. Sakumo didn’t miss the dirty looks his teammates were shooting him. He understood, in a way, but in others, he was so confused. He expected a sense of frustration, some cognitive dissonance. The mission failed, but they didn’t perish; there should be anger and happiness, shouldn’t there? At the very least, relief that they were alive.
But no. He could only feel the anger, the hatred burning within them.
Reporting back about the mission’s failure was even worse. He’d been prepared for the yelling, the way that it was hammered into him just how badly he’d screwed up. He didn’t know that there would be names thrown at him. Failure. Disgrace. Shame.
He’d left the office not even knowing if he would still be a shinobi after this. It was almost visible, the way he walked home with the weight of his actions on his shoulders. He walked slouch, tucked into himself. He would make up for this. He couldn’t regret what he’d done, not now, not ever. But somehow, he would make it right.
~
And he thought he could. He really did. Things had to get worse before they could get better. But they only seemed to get worse and worse and worse. Over the course of a week, word spread about what Sakumo did, and his life changed completely, seemingly irrevocably.
“Hello, Aiko,” he called to the owner of the fruit stand as he picked up a crown melon, observing the fruit for bruises or breaks. They’re his favorite, and he always bought them from the same lady.
But Aiko isn’t smiling at him, she doesn’t say hello back. He glances over to her, and his heart drops to see her glaring at him. “Thanks to you, we don’t have any new shipments coming in from Kirigakure, maybe for weeks.” She tells him angrily. “What am I supposed to sell then, huh? You want to ruin my life because you couldn’t complete your mission?”
Sakumo buys her whole case of crown melons in an attempt to make up for it.
He has trouble getting any missions after as well. Every time he’s assigned to one, he’s kicked off. None of his fellow jonin will agree to be his teammate, and it kills him to know that they don’t trust him to be by their side. Not even the ninja he’d saved.
“They think you’ve lost the Will of Fire.” Hiruzen tells Sakumo after he finds out he’s been dropped from another mission. “You didn’t put the village first. You’ll have to earn back their trust, prove that the fire still burns strongly inside of you.”
But isn’t protecting his teammates important too, Sakumo wonders as he goes home, trying to keep his head from hanging too low. What is a village without its villagers? He thought the Will of Fire meant that Love is the key to Peace, and he loved his teammates. It’s why he’d kept them alive. Was a village more important than the people inside?
~
Things continue to escalate from there. Some shops won’t allow him inside to buy necessities. He could send Kakashi with money, but he worries even doing that. He doesn’t want Kakashi to suffer because of what he’s done, and now he wouldn’t put it past anyone to try and pick on his five year old son.
It hurts, not going on missions, not being able to frequent the places he’d once adored. But it’s not the worst part.
The worst part is that when he smiles, no one smiles back. When he chases after a person to hand them back the money they’d just drop, they turn on him. When he compliments someone on the shirt they’re wearing or how good their hair looks, he’s met with insults.
There are no kind eyes turned on him anymore. If anyone looks to him at all, it’s with disdain. Any words said to him are snubs, and the words said behind his back are even worse. Coward. Fool. Disgrace. Traitor.
The words chip away at him, little by little until Sakumo no longer wants to leave his home. The thought of it makes him sick. After three days in a row of vomiting every time he attempts to go out the door to get groceries, he finally gives up. Even though he doesn’t want to, he gives Kakashi the money to go buy food. He’s just a boy, after all, and he still needs to eat.
Sakumo spends more and more time in his room. He doesn’t shower, doesn’t eat. He hardly even brushes his teeth. With the blinds drawn and the door closed, he lays in bed, waiting for sleep to take him. It’s the only blissful moments he has anymore. In his dreams, people still smile at him. They talk to him, exchange gifts and pleasantries, and his heart is full. Nothing is worse than when the sunlight begins to trickle in through his blinds, waking him up and reminding him of the pain.
Because that’s what his life is now. Constant pain. He is alone and isolated, cast out by the people that used to revere him, and that he loved more than anything. He still loves them, wants nothing more than to once again spark happiness in their hearts.
And so, after weeks of not leaving his home, he tries again. He pulls himself out of bed. He showers, does his hair, brushes his teeth. He changes out of the stained gross clothes he’s been wearing endlessly and he tries.
He spends his money anywhere that will take it. He flashes a smile at anyone who will make eye contact with him, and holds open every door he can find. Sakumo compliments the flowers in the flower shop and the smell of the dumplings the vendors are selling on the sidewalk. He compliments the stitching of the plush animals and even buys a crochet hat despite never wearing them.
He’s trying, he thinks. He’s trying so hard, and he can’t understand it. He can’t comprehend how people can look at him the way that they do, how they can hate him so completely because he didn’t let people die.
No one will smile at him, and if anyone takes his money, it's silently. No one thanks him for holding the door open for them, and everyone else lets it close on him. “We don’t need your business.” He’s told at the flower shop, and behind him he hears snickers. “We don’t need him at all.”
So he heads back home as the sun begins to sink into the sky. Time will make things better he thinks half heartedly, but he doesn’t believe it. If anyone in the world is altruistic, it’s Sakumo. He doesn’t need thanks or appreciation. But if no one will even accept the kindness he has to offer, then what’s even the point?
And those words ring in his head over and over again. We don’t need him at all. And fine, if they don’t need him, don’t even want him, if his presence brings people pain, then he’ll stay away from them all. He only wants what's best for others.
But there’s still one person who does need him, he thinks. He has a son who’s only five, and as strong and smart and capable as he is, Sakumo still has so much he wants to teach him. So he’ll be there for his boy.
He’s rounding a corner, making a shortcut through an alleyway when he sees Kakashi surrounded by some boys older than him, and he stops. The boys are yelling at him, jeering him, and Kakashi looks as angry as Sakumo’s ever seen him.
“Why don’t you just go into hiding like your dad,” one of the boys is saying to Kakashi, and if it’s even possible, Sakumo’s heart drops even more.
“You’re probably gonna end up just like him.”
“A traitor.”
And then they’re pushing him, laughing and heckling him, throwing out insults left and right, telling Kakashi how horrible his dad is, how he shouldn’t even bother showing his face when he has such a vile creature as his father.
Sakumo doesn’t stay to hear the rest, and he doesn’t bother going to stand up for his son who he knows can handle himself. He can hear Kakashi taking care of them as he walks away, hands shoved in his pockets.
At home, he cooks the best meal he can come up with with the few supplies he has. He’s made sure to have all his money in one place, somewhere easy for Kakashi to find. He hadn’t realized the way Kakashi was being treated because of his screw up. He should have thought of it, though. How long had Kakashi been suffering in silence?
Kakashi comes home and Sakumo hugs him. He sits him down, gives him a big smile. Kakashi is taken off guard by it, surprised that Sakumo is even out of bed. He’d hardly seen him in recent weeks, and never with a grin on his face.
But he doesn’t question it, and though he doesn’t say it, Kakashi’s heart wells up. Does he have his dad back? If only Sakumo knew how much Kakashi had missed him, how hard it was for him to see his dad so sad. He didn’t care about the words of some people he didn’t give a second thought to. He only cared about his dad. Kakashi was still young after all, and he needed his father. He loved him so much.
And he doesn’t have the words to describe how he feels, doesn’t know how to express it because despite being so smart and so wise, he’s still only a child.
So he doesn’t say anything about it. He hugs his father, and he sits with him, and they talk. Sakumo tells Kakashi stories about his childhood that he hadn’t heard yet, and he gives him all his best fatherly advice. They talk about Kakashi’s future as a shinobi, and Sakumo tells Kakashi he knows he’s going to go far, that he’s going to be a better ninja than his dad ever was.
It’s the best night Kakashi could remember having as a child. Just being with his father and having his full, undivided attention. Sakumo makes sure to remind him more than once how much he loves him.
They stay up talking so long that Kakashi actually falls asleep, his head resting in Sakumo’s lap. Sakumo runs his hand over Kakashi’s head and thinks that Kakashi hasn’t looked so small and peaceful since he was first born. He tears up, because he loves his son, he loves him so fucking much, and he would do anything for him.
After he carries Kakashi to bed and tucks him in, he heads to the graveyard. It’s late, but the moon is high and bright in the sky, guiding his path as he sits in front of his wife’s tombstone.
“I did do my best, you know.” He says quietly at the grave. He doesn’t expect an answer, doesn’t even hope for something to come make it better. He’d give anything for some reassurance and when the wind blows through the still night, ruffling his hair, he closes his eyes, and smiles just a little, thinking of the way his wife used to ruffle his hair, and decides to believe it’s her, telling him she knew.
“I told you I’d do anything for him. I know we only want what’s best for him… I think this is for the best. He’d be better off without me…” And that’s what he truly believes with all his heart.
The village hates him, he’s been shunned and abused and turned away. And even with his broken heart, that would be okay.
But what’s not okay is for Kakashi to suffer for it. He shouldn’t have to bear the weight of his father’s choices, and for as long as Sakumo is around, that’s what will happen.
Sakumo loves Kakashi, and he knows that his son deserves a fresh start, the ability to make a name for himself without his father holding him back.
When he’s back home, he just sits and watches Kakashi sleep. With all the love Sakumo has always had, none of it compares to what he feels about his son. He loves him so much, all he wants is to see Kakashi grow up and be strong and be kind and be happy. He wants it badly, so fucking badly, that he almost loses his nerve. Almost.
But Kakashi is who he’s doing this for.
So finally he forces himself up to his feet. He touches Kakashi’s head one more time, bends down and kisses his forehead.
“I love you, okay.” He says, smiling down at his son. Kakashi is his greatest accomplishment. “I’m sorry I didn’t do better. I tried my hardest, though. I hope you know that. And I’m sorry that I have to go.”
His voice catches, and he’s trying not to cry. If he starts sobbing now, he’ll wake Kakashi.
“It’s just… It’s too hard to breathe. I can’t see a light. But I tried. I tried very hard. And I swear I love you more than anything. That’s why I’m doing this. So you can be great.” He laughs, and it shakes, and he can feel the tears falling. “I don’t want it to be dark for you, or for you to struggle to breathe. You deserve to live freely, so I don’t hold you back but I think…” He pauses, taking in his son one last time. “I hope that I’ll see you again. You, me, and your mother. Together again. Wouldn’t that be something?”
And with that he leaves Kakashi’s room, makes his way to his own bedroom. He won’t make it messy, doesn’t want to leave the boy completely traumatized. If he looks like he’s only asleep, then that shouldn’t be too bad, should it?
So he lays down, taking the poisoned herbs in his hand, and he tries not to cry anymore. He doesn’t want Kakashi to suffer, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to have to suffer anymore either. Sakumo has always been a strong ninja with a weak heart, and the past few months had been too much for him. It was better this way for everyone--the village, Kakashi, himself.
“I’ll see you soon,” he whispers to the picture on his night stand, a beautiful brunette woman with her hand on her baby bump. “I think I do believe that I’ll see you again. That will be more beautiful than anything.”
He takes a breath before shoving the herbs in his mouth. He chews them down, swallows. Maybe it’ll just be like going to sleep, he thinks as his eyes flutter closed. Yeah, just like going to sleep. That doesn’t sound too bad.
ASK: Can i please have some Sakumo Hatake headcannons? Preferably dating and SFW/Nsfw. Im hopelessly in love with him. I know he’s kind of rare thats why im asking for more material with him. He needs some lovin’
Once this man decides to go out and mingle everyone knows but no one wants to bother him. No one wants to rush him so instead, they wait for him to have his pick, which takes a while. He likes to get to know someone first before he starts dating them ya feel? He’s not one to jump into a relationship or the dating scene. Plus, Kakashi needs to approve them first.
OMFG he polishes up SO WELL. He does not change his hair though that’s too much. Someone has to be willing to take the cleanup of a suit and the unruliness of his hair if you know what I mean hahaaaaa Anyone that he’s on a date with melts when they see him. Sakumo can kind of gauge the type of person they are by their reaction after seeing him in a suit. You can tell if someone has bad intention by the way they look at you, ya feel? It’s kind of like spotting a gold digger.
Being on a date with him is great. Sakumo is someone that loves to listen to someone tell their life story. He likes to learn more about people because most people know a lot of things about him even if they aren’t true and humans are just interesting. He’ll cover the basics of his life but won’t say too much. He/ll occasionally make some comments here and there to keep the conversation going. He mostly engages the other person to talk more about themselves to get a better idea of who they are and what they’re like.
The type of person he’s dating determines the location of their first date. If they’re someone that likes to be wowed, he will take them somewhere that’s on the higher end but not too expensive, it’s only the first date after all. If they are more laid back he will absolutely enjoy a nice walk in the park or a trip through the city. He prefers these types of dates more since the atmosphere isn’t as tense compared to a restaurant setting.
Once they are past the first date and Kakashi gives the O.K. his display of affection increasing. Sakumo wants them to know that he is interested. He’s not backing out of this and they are in this for the long game. However, as soon as they display any type of disinterest or unease he will back off. He does not want someone he’s dating to feel uncomfortable. Holy hell this man is so sweet. Forehead kisses. Hand kisses. Affectionate boops. Cute hugs. Hugs that envelope them. ALL OF IT. He is the embodiment of the ‘my love and affection for you’ memes. THE LOOK IN HIS EYES WHEN THEY HAVE BEEN TOGETHER FOR A WHILE AND ARE ACTUALLY A COUPLE OH. MY. GOD.
*ahem* Anyway so Sakumo is a good person to date. Very supportive and doesn’t want people to be uncomfortable. He doesn’t want his fame to get in the way and intimidate them, it’s one of the things he worries about the most. Okay so if he has a date with someone and it goes to shit, not in a bad way the kind where they keep knocking into things and trying not to fuck up the whole time, anyway he’s the type of person that asks them out on a second date. He knows that he doesn’t have any idea how their day went before they arrived but he doesn’t want whatever made them so flustered to ruin their mood. He wants them to be able to relax and chill out. Clumsy people are kind of adorable.
As noites na Residência Hatake costumavam ser tranquilas.
A árvore fora da janela revelava, como habitual, sua vida silenciosa por meio do farfalhar das folhas e a cortina ondulava com a brisa leve, todas essas pequenas coisas constituíam uma tranquila harmonia doméstica. A energia do seu lar.
Hoje, em especial, tudo parecia desandar, até mesmo nos pequenos momentos. Até o saleiro que derrubara no chão da cozinha enquanto preparava o jantar parecia te contar alguma coisa. Não tivera coragem de limpar nada.
Talvez fosse a ansiedade pela chegada de Sakumo, já que ele não informara seu estado desde que partira para uma missão de alto risco. Nem uma carta sequer.
Aquilo a fazia remoer todos os pensamentos negativos que pairavam em sua mente e, com vergonha de pensar tantas coisas horríveis, logo tentava expulsá-los com um falso otimismo.
Um único puxar em sua camisola a tirou do transe. Nem havia percebido que alisava repetidamente o tecido de renda, como se buscasse algum conforto.
—Aconteceu alguma coisa com o papai? —Kakashi falou com sua típica voz monótona. Parecia consciente demais da situação, mesmo sendo apenas uma criança.
—Ele ainda não falou com a mamãe, querido. Pela hora, já deve estar chegando. —Tentou tranquilizá-lo, alisando os cabelos brancos e desgrenhados. Parecia um pequeno pinheiro coberto de neve.
Embora muito bem intencionado, seu consolo pareceu ter sido em vão, já que Kakashi apenas respirou fundo e encostou o rosto em sua camisola.
—Eu tô com um mau pressentimento, mamãe. —Falou com a voz abafada e cheia de sinceridade.
—Kakashi. —Você o chamou com um sorriso, ajoelhando-se à sua frente. Com as mãos em cada lado daquele pequeno rosto, continuou. —O papai prometeu voltar. Ele sempre cumpre as promessas dele, não é?
Ele acenou a cabeça, ainda sem expressar qualquer reação por trás da máscara. Porém, havia algo em seu olhar que a incomodava.
—Então, meu amor, ele está bem. —Pausou por um momento. De repente, percebendo que precisava ser sincera com ele. —Talvez ele volte com alguns arranhões, mas nós vamos cuidar dele, tudo bem?
—Tá bom...
A batida na porta de entrada da casa fez com que o semblante de Kakashi se iluminasse feito o brilho das estrelas lá fora. Seu olhar se voltou a você novamente, com um pouco de receio. Entretanto, aquele toque era inconfundível e peculiarmente tranquilo.
Não havia dúvidas de que aquele na porta era Sakumo.
—É o papai, Kakashi. Pode abrir a porta. —Você fez um cafuné rápido em seu cabelo, antes que ele se desvencilhasse do seu carinho e corresse até a porta, como se tivesse ganhado o maior presente de sua vida.
A porta rangeu. Os calafrios correram por todo o seu corpo ao passo que um inusitado odor férrico preenchia o ar. Aquele cheiro, por si só, fez suas pupilas contrairem — no fundo, já sabia o que aquilo significava.
—Sa... Sakumo?
A imagem impregnou-se na sua mente assim como o sangue ressecado que parecia estar em todos os tecidos que Sakumo usava.
Os olhos de Kakashi piscavam freneticamente e, por um momento, o único pensamento que teve foi em arrumar qualquer motivo para tirá-lo dali. Protegê-lo daquela cena horripilante tornou-se sua principal missão.
Embora o garoto estivesse acostumado com esses cenários, aquilo o traumatizou profundamente.
Aproximou-se do pequeno, enquanto Sakumo lentamente se debruçava sobre a porta, com a cabeça erguida e os olhos firmemente fechados.
—Kakashi, eu cuido disso. Por enquanto, só pegue um pano molhado e as bandagens, ok? Elas estão naquele armário do banheiro.
Kakashi acenou a cabeça desnorteadamente, imediatamente correndo para o banheiro.
Seu olhar se voltou a Sakumo novamente. Será possível que teria sido pego em uma emboscada? Situações como essas eram comuns, mas dessa vez parecia quase ter perdido a vida em campo.
Com as pernas trêmulas, tropeçou no meio do caminho até ele, enquanto aquela sensação de nervosismo se intensificava cada vez mais. Sakumo a observava com o semblante mais puro que já vira.
As centelhas que emanavam de seu olhar não remetiam a um ninja que assassinava pessoas sem hesitação. Lembravam um marido que, mesmo nas situações mais difíceis, nunca deixou de pensar na esposa.
—Como...? —Foi tudo o que saiu de seus lábios atormentados.
—A missão... Foi um fracasso. —Sua voz suave continha uma obscuridade dolorosa.
Ele estava se culpando pelo fracasso da missão. Não apenas por essa, mas desde que fora promovido ao cargo de “Capitão de Equipe”, se culpava por quaisquer erros cometidos durante a atuação.
O que mais a preocupava era o estado de seu marido. Aparentava não haver ninjas médicos em campo, já que ferimentos como aqueles deveriam ter sido imediatamente tratados.
O homem de cabelos brancos ainda sangrava, tendo corrido uma longa distância até em casa.
—Você veio sozinho até a vila? O que aconteceu com os seus colegas?
—Eu dei um toque de recuar e esperei um tempo até que parássemos de ser perseguidos. A missão se tornou mais perigosa do que me foi informado... —Pausou, colocando a mão sobre o abdômen ensanguentado. —Não queria trazer perigo para cá e, mesmo assim... Eu falhei tanto.
—Não, querido, você preferiu abandonar a missão do que pôr em risco a vida dos seus companheiros. Isso não foi uma falha, Sakumo, foi compaixão. —Você o abraçou fracamente, com medo de machucá-lo ainda mais.
Sakumo, pelo contrário, a envolveu completamente em seus braços, descansando a cabeça em seu ombro.
Em um rápido instante, Kakashi já estava de joelhos ao seu lado com tudo o que havia pedido. Imediatamente, despiu-o daqueles equipamentos pesados e começou a limpar as feridas. Foi agonizante ouvir os suspiros exasperados de Sakumo a cada toque com o pano umedecido e, desde então, se tornou ainda mais evidente o quanto as pessoas podiam ser cruéis.
Pelo menos, agora estava em seu lar, onde ele seria cuidadosamente amado e poderia se recuperar em paz — ao menos fisicamente, já que parecera ter sido mentalmente golpeado pela culpa.
Kakashi segurou firmemente a mão calejada durante todo o tratamento, como se temesse que ele fosse desaparecer a qualquer momento. Você pôs a mão sobre aquela tão pequenininha, e assim que atraiu seu olhar infantil e aflito, sorriu reconfortantemente para ele.
“Vai ficar tudo bem, amor.”, seus olhos diziam.
“Eu sei, mamãe. Nós vamos cuidar dele.”, os dele responderam, com aquelas covinhas que tanto amava em cada canto.
A madrugada foi tomada por uma atmosfera estranha, mas consoladora.
O mundo parecia ter parado completamente, envolto em silêncio, exceto pela coruja que piava no galho de uma árvore distante.
Colocara Kakashi para dormir — mas não antes da leitura que ele exigia que fizesse todos os dias — e, logo após, foi deitar-se ao lado de seu marido.
Os lençóis finalmente estavam aquecidos novamente, com a chegada de Sakumo, e seu perfume tão singular de pinheiro enevoado estava nas cobertas. Sentira tanta falta daquele aroma, que as noites se tornaram incômodas sem ele.
Depois de tê-lo tratado, seu corpo estava quase inteiramente coberto pelas bandagens brancas, que já se tornavam amareladas e o odor férrico havia desaparecido completamente, substituído por um bálsamo herbal.
Sakumo demorou a adormecer, virando-se na cama com cada fisgada dos ferimentos. Em uma tentativa de acalmá-lo, seus dedos acariciavam levemente os cabelos nevados, enquanto a respiração tensa diminuía em tranquilidade. Após tantos dias atormentado pela insônia e o medo das espreitas, o sono acabou tomando-o por completo.
Agora, completamente adormecido sobre o travesseiro emplumado e a abraçando com a pouca força que lhe sobrara, era certo que logo ele se recuperaria.
