Derecho

In all the ways that Mayu is extraordinary, of course she is extraordinary in this.

She’s eleven years old and has, through all her own power, received an older brother. But, Kakashi can’t help but protest, isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Shouldn’t she be getting a little brother? And shouldn’t half the work be his. His and some other, hopefully not a Kami in disguise, woman?

Mayu just lives to defy all odds though, and so Kakashi has gained one son and Mayu an older brother. The boys name is Sai, by his own quiet admission spoken so softly not even Kakashi had heard it, so Mayu had declared it.

Sai. Another victim of Root. No last name, no known family, meant to be nothing more than a tool to be used and cast aside. But, hopefully with time, Sai will grow to realize that he is human.

So, Kakashi has a new child, a son. A son who looks at Mayu with the same gleam in his eye that she once looked at Kakashi with. Like she’s hung the moon and the stars, like her every word denotes the law of the world. Though the light in Sai’s eyes are muted, hidden, it is still present and it still yearns to grow. A son who stands in the shadow of his daughter, and watches Kakashi with a stillness not unlike prey before a predator. Depthless black eyes watching his hands, scanning his form for hostility.

He wants to love this child, he thinks, but his love has never been so easily given like Mayu’s. Nor so loud and upfront like Gai’s. So, Kakashi loves in the only way he really knows how. Quietly.

He keeps their interactions quiet, brief, and minimal. He moves slowly and softly, makes sure to speak in even calm tones, and makes sure to announce his returns home and when he enters a room. Kakashi constantly reminds himself to be kind, to be considerate of traumas he knows lurk in this little boy. To ensure that he is gentle, to make sure that his new son knows his hand is always extended, and to let Sai make the choice to reach back if he so chooses.

Of course, with the clusterfuck that is Shimura Danzo’s mess, settling the newest addition to the Hatake household is a bit of a mess. Namely in that one week into Sai’s new life with them, Kakashi is finally made aware of the fact that the little boy doesn’t have his own bedroom.

There are three bedrooms in the Hatake compound, one for himself, one for Mayu, and Gai’s bedroom. The new Hokage had long since given up pretending that it in anyway is still a guest room, he’d helped the other Jounnin repaint it after all. Apparently, with Kakashi being gone the past week dealing with major political fallout, Mayu had just let Sai sleep with her.

In Kakashi’s bed, of course. Mayu, after all, was rarely ever in her own room unless it was to change or to pack for a mission and Kakshi was fairly certain she’d actually never used her own bed. On the nights that Sai needed his own space he just slept in Mayu’s never used bed, and that was that.

‘Because’ she explained the next morning when asked, ‘there were no free rooms. If we gave him Uncle Gai’s room, uncle Gai definitely would’ve cried, and Sai has always slept alone and sad, so of course he had to sleep with me and I never sleep in my room. Besides that bed isn’t big enough for two people, so it was just easier this way.’

Easier indeed.

Now, with Kakashi finally returning home for the first time in over week, this standing arrangement has led to a bit of an awkward impasse.

The children, both washed and dressed for bed, had come into his room. Mayu had continued right into bed, climbing up to curl into his side where he sat, finally relaxing and catching up on his reading. Sai however, had frozen in the doorway, suddenly unsure of himself and not knowing what to do.

“Sai,” Mayu calls, pulling the pale boy from his frozen reverie. “Are you coming?”

Sai edges forward a half step, freezes again and pulls his foot back, then steps fully back into the doorway. Uncertain, so very uncertain.

Kakashi wants to say something, give assurance, tell the boy that it’s alright to sleep in here with him and his daughter. But he knows what Sai will take that as, an order. To behave and fall inline. The only reason Sai has opened up so much is because most of his interaction comes from Mayu, who is a peer and not nearly so imposing as a grown man. Not to mention physically, Mayu is much smaller than Sai.

He really hates Danzo.

So, Kakashi says nothing and pretends to not notice the goings on in his room, flipping the pages of his book absently.

He gives no reaction when, sensing that something is truly wrong, Mayu wiggles down and off the bed. Taking hold of Sai’s hand she pulls him out of the room and down the hall, to Mayu’s own never truly used bedroom. Soft, whispered conversation happens as the rustle of bed linens and the soft creak of unused springs trail in from the hall.

“Would you like it, if I stayed here tonight?” Mayu asks, voice barely heard as she undoubtedly tucks the older boy into her bed, pulling soft red, paw print patterned sheets over him.

“…No. I don’t…think so. I think… I think I would like to lie here alone awhile.” Sai’s response is equally as soft.

“Ok. Just come and get me if you change your mind, it can get lonely in this room.”

He hears her bedroom door slide almost all the way shut, and soft shuffling steps before Mayu reappears and climbs back up into bed. There’s a troubled, sad look on her face.

Kakashi really fucking hates Shimura Danzo.

“He’ll be ok,” Kakashi doesn’t know if he’s trying to reassure her or himself.
“He just needs time, and our patience.”

His daughter hums her agreement, already beginning to nod off, curled beneath the blankets huddled into him.

They settle into a routine of sorts, while Kakashi begins to look for appropriate contractors to add on another room to the house.

Every night Sai will sleep in Mayu’s room, and he will either request her to stay with him or to be left alone. In the beginning he always asked to be left alone, but Mayu asks him every night without fail, and more and more the boy begins to ask her to stay. So, for the first time since Kakashi and Mayu ever met, Mayu sleeps in her own bedroom from time to time at Sai’s request.

On these nights Kakashi is faced with an internal dilemma. On the one hand he is so achingly proud of his daughter for her compassion, her empathy, and her love. On the other hand, when the space beside him is cold and unoccupied, he can’t help the bone deep melancholy that sets in. It’s been almost a decade since he’d slept alone, missions not withstanding, and it’s a familiar if unwelcome feeling.

Kakashi just keeps doing what he’s been doing, and hopes it’s enough to allow the pale little boy to warm up to him. Sai has stopped freezing every time he enters a room, Kakashi takes it as a win.

Their dynamic changes dramatically their first night alone in the house. Mayu leaving for a brief mission at the edg of Fire country, a mission Kakashi was reluctant to assign but Mayu would’ve stabbed him over if he didn’t give it to her. He probably shouldn’t have kept her cooped up for so long.

Kakashi had awoken from a less than pleasant nightmare and, accepting his fate of a very early morning, ventured out to the living room for a change of pace. He’d found the newest addition to the Hatake household also awake, standing still and silent like a pale shadow by the living room windows.

The new Hokage does not switch on the lights, the moon is bright enough to illuminate the whole room and he doesn’t want to spook Sai.

Kakashi steps up to the window as well, an arms length away from the little boy, and joins Sai in watching the moonlight garden sway outside the window. The deep shadows smudged beneath Sai’s eyes paints a sleepless story, and the dull, pained light in his eyes completes the picture of a sad, disturbed little boy.

“When do they stop?”

Kakashi nearly jumps, he’s fairly certain that this is the first time Sai has ever directly spoken to him. He assumes he’s referring to the night terrors.

“They don’t.” And Kakashi wants to hit himself when Sai slumps impossibly smaller, he really wishes Mayu were here.

He starts again. “They don’t, but they do fade over time. Filling yourself with more, happy memories eventually pushes the dark things away. Takes away all their space to linger”

“…What are your happy memories?”

Kakashi hums a moment, thinking.

“In recent years I’ve found more than I ever thought I’d get in my whole lifetime. But, I think the happiest would be the first day I ever met Mayu. I was scared at first, surprised, but afterward I think that was one of the happiest days of my life.”

Sai is silent, and Kakashi blinks at the suddenly much closer child. The boy hasn’t changed his position, silently facing the window, but he has somehow moved directly beside him with Kakashi none the wiser.

“…me too.” His answer is whisper soft, near swallowed by the quiet night air.

Kakashi, carefully like trying to tame a particularly skittish animal, sets a hand on Sai’s head. Ink strands soft beneath his fingers as the boy minutely relaxes into him.

They stand together and watch the sunrise over the fields of grain, seas of swaying plants glowing like a pink ocean beneath the morning light.

Mayu comes home the next day, and the Hatake dynamic shifts dramatically again. Now, every night when Mayu comes to bed, Sai follows her like a silent shadow. When Kakashi switches the light off Sai sort of just appears, curled tightly and silently beside Mayu, and Kakashi gently folds arms around both of his children.

Sai is there every night, and Kakashi and Mayu are right there, waiting for him, achingly proud and happy.

Mayu has claimed a brother, and so given Kakashi a son. He is determined to love this child. Neither of his children did he ever actually ask for, but they are both blessings he does not deserve.

_______

It’s a beautiful sunny morning at training ground nine. Nine is the smallest training ground in Konoha, a clearing just big enough to fit maybe two gennin teams comfortably, with the center of the clearing taken up by a giant weeping willow. The trees canopy stretches over the whole clearing, swaying boughs brushing against the surrounding forest and drowning the training ground in golden, dappled light.

Sai parts the curtain of leaves opposite her and steps fully into the clearing, eyes alight with a rare curiosity. It’s been eight months since Sai was adopted, and today will be the Hatake siblings first time training together. Yamanaka Inoichi had signed off on Sai’s combat readiness just three days ago, and there should be no triggers left lurking in her new brother. Their dad, however, had insisted on caution; so Shiranui Genma was conveniently utilizing training ground ten right next door.

The twelve year old comes to a halt beside Mayu’s kneeling form, she’d been polishing her Tanto while she’d waited for him.

“Do you have a plan for today?”

Mayu nods excitedly, jumping up to her feet.

“We’ll run through our paces first, and then warm up with some Taijutsu!” Her smile edged into dangerous, and Sai’s eyes gleamed in turn. “Then I thought it’d be fun to test our techniques against each other, your ink versus my summons! I haven’t had much time to work with them yet, but Mia and Miu work very well with me so far.”

Sai blinks slowly, and nods his consent. “Dog Contract?”

“Red Pandas.” At his surprised look she explains, “a gift from my mother!”

…

Surprisingly, there were no direct combatants in the Red Panda contract except for the Boss Panda. Mayu lacked the Chakra to summon the Boss just yet, being that most of her firepower came from her Nature, but she got along great with the rest of the small panda clan.

Mia and Miu were twin sisters, granddaughters to the Boss, and were the average size for a red panda. They specialized in Genjutsu and support, and quickly became Mayu’s main summons. Mia would hide herself in Mayu’s clothes, skin contact needed for her special brand of a healing technique. Miu would hide somewhere in the environment, and blanket the area in a sort of Genjutsu domain, a certain amount of space where she was free to manipulate the minds of her victims.

Gin-gin was a bit older than the twins, and was about the size of a horse. He was the second biggest Panda in the contract right next to the Boss, and as the next in line for the seat of Boss Panda he was an accomplished boxer. Though Gin-gin wouldn’t inherit the Boss’s Technique until he retired.

Tomoe was a very, very old panda but her poison mastery was second to none. She was small enough to fit in Mayu’s hand, but could create poison clouds big enough to drown a small village. Tomoe also had a bad habit of spiting acid at people she didn’t like, and her teeth and claws secreted a mild irritant that made her victims skin burn and a very bad rash spread over the infected area.

There were a good twenty more pandas in the clan, but most of them weren’t interested in human world affairs. Benihime would periodically call her into the Sprit World, however, and she would spend a few hours hammering “proper etiquette befitting a Young Heiress” into Mayu’s head.

An eclectic bunch, but one Mayu was already fond of.

After warm ups Mayu flew through familiar hand signs while Sai readied his brushes. In a poof of smoke the twins sprang into existence with a gleeful shout, furry red bodies leaping at her with joyful barks.

“Mayu-hime!”

“Hime!”

Wiggly little animals run over her body like a jungle gym and Sai stifles a laugh. Well, it sounds more like a dying croak but after much analysis Mayu and their dad figured out it was the older boys version of a laugh. They’re working on it.

“Alright you two that’s enough! We’re in the middle of something here!” The two pandas stop on her shoulders, one on each, and turn wide golden eyes to Sai. They’re still for the two seconds it takes to realize who he is and then they’re on him next.

“Welcome to the family, Sai!”

“Sai!”

Sai clutches his bundle of red, wiggling fur like one would a live bomb turning wide, slightly fearful eyes to her.

“Don’t worry Sai, they’re just excited!”

…

Councilman Genma stretches idly in training ground ten, having heeded the strongly worded suggestion to train here today. At this time. In this specific training ground.

Honestly, Kakashi really needs to calm down. Inoichi already uprooted Sai’s few triggers, new trainee that he was, the kid would be perfectly fine in a friendly spar.

The newly appointed politician sighs through his next set of kata, only distantly keeping an eye on Mayu and Sai’s chakra. At his feet Rei, the orange and blue spotted cat, rolls lazily onto his back batting at a loose string on his pants.

Rei’s a close family friend, the feline having babysat Genma in his childhood when his mother was away on missions. He lived across the hall in apartment 308 and—

Genma blinks hard, head suddenly foggy, at his feet Rei’s form wavers briefly. Soft, red fur overtaking a vibrant blue coat spotted in orange for a fraction of a second. It’s there and gone again in a blink, and any nagging worry disappears as if it were never there in the first place.

Tiny, blue paws bat at his leg impatiently. “C’mon Genma! Hurry up, we’ve gotta pick up Homura from daycare soon!”

“A-ah. Right, daycare.” The word feels oddly wrong on his tongue, though he can see his daughter in his minds eye clearly. Remembers the day of her birth. His daughter is only eight months old now, so Genma entrusts her morning care to a daycare while he trains.

Distantly, he thinks he hears the echo of childish laughter.

_______

Kakashi hikes up the familiar path to the Dog Dens, accompanied for the first time in over a year.

Sai is thirteen today, the new teen having changed immensely in the short year he’s been adopted into the Hatake Clan. Not just physically either, though he stands even with Kakashi’s chest now, but mentally as well.

The oddest, and privately Kakashi thinks it’s absolutely adorable, change is Sai’s sudden fixation of matching outfits. He hasn’t gone a single day for the past month without matching his sister in wardrobe, even down to the accessories. Even pajamas. Though the outfits are always in opposite color pallets, Sai in black and Mayu in red.

Kakashi doesn’t think Mayu’s noticed, but he certainly has and he’s doing nothing to discourage it. It’s adorable.

Father and son crest the hill at the entrance to the Valley of Dogs, and Sai stares around in wonder as they descend inside. Dark eyes sparkling in much the same manner as Mayu’s did, the first time he brought her here.

Ten weeks ago a small litter of Jack Russel Terriers were born, and on the same day orphaned. Their mother, Iori, passing in an unexpectedly hard birth. The mothers of dens took turns feeding the puppies, but with their weening over and their own litters needing them the four terriers had been left mostly alone.

Kakashi and Sai, lead by Pakkun, step into the small den where the litter are being kept. It’s almost uncomfortably warm, a small series of circular windows cut into the farthest wall lets in early morning light. In the center of the room, in a small circular indent in the floor, four tiny, furry bodies are piled together sleeping.

Sai hesitates in the doorway, eyes filled with a cautious sort of fear. The puppy on top shifts and stretches stubby legs, yawning widely before he topples abruptly off the puppy pile. The rest of his siblings awaken, and quickly the small den is filled with the tiny barks and soft whines of four, very small dogs. They wiggle around their enclosure, before they catch sight of the three of them at the door and tumble over each other to reach them, small paws scratching at the lip of their enclosure.

Sai is still frozen in the doorway. Kakashi sets a gentle hand on his sons back.

“Go on, it’ll be alright.”

The teen visibly shakes himself out of his fear, cautiously stepping up to the enclosure and kneeling beside it. Pale fingers curled too closely to the lip of the puppies enclosure became victim to tiny, sharp teeth and eager tongues. Sai doesn’t even seem to register any discomfort, staring, enraptured, at the small creatures before him.

He still hasn’t moved to touch them, slowly becoming more and more frozen, eyes wide.

Kakashi knows the fear Sai feels now, knows it intimately. The fear of hurting something undeserving, of breaking something or someone you already love despite all your best efforts to be gentle. To be kind. He’d felt much the same way when he’d first gotten Mayu, that helpless, spiraling fear, where you just know that no matter how hard you try you’ll fuck it up completely. Destroy this fragile, beautiful thing you already love down into the depths of the heart you didn’t know you had, and in turn destroy yourself as well.

Kakashi comes to kneel beside his oldest, but newest, child and wraps an arm around Sai’s shoulders setting his chin atop the boys head.

“It’s alright Sai, you won’t hurt them.”

Thin shoulders relax in his hold, and Kakashi ignores the soft sniffle before Sai leans down into the enclosure. Pale hands readily assaulted by Terrier puppies, Sai scoops up the first dog he can wrap his hands around. This one is a bit bigger than his litter mates, and already has the beginnings of a wiry beard around his snout.

Sai holds the puppy carefully aloft, observing the wriggly little thing intensely. The puppy slumps, huffing, and sends Sai a baleful glare with copper bright eyes. Sai laughs, soft and short, and switches to holding the puppy in his arms close to his chest. He’s ecstatic, already clawing his way up to Sai’s shoulder, licking under his chin.

“Isao. Your name, is Isao.”

_______

Sai has had a very odd day so far.

It had started out ordinary enough, wake up on a cold, cement floor, crammed into a small gray room with fifty other children. Stay as quiet and small as possible until rations were handed out, then choke down a too small portion of some dry, tasteless mush and be lead out of the room for that days training.

Except, the food never arrived, not for hours. The children sat in their cold, grey room for what felt like eternity, stomachs growling loudly and moods edging into feral. Just when the first restless shifting began does the steel door unlock with a loud ‘thunk’ and groan loudly open. The people here aren’t the usual handlers, they’re not masked, and they speak softly and kindly to them despite the many wide, glassy eyes, and vacant expressions.

They’re guided out of the cold dark, and into the sun, humid Konoha heat warming his face and evoking something deep inside of him.

Eventually Sai and the rest of the children are filed away into a series of rooms, high in the Hokage tower. Five to each room, with beds and a bathroom, a dining area already set up with still steaming food, and large windows bathing the room in sunshine. They’re told to eat, wash, rest, and wait until someone comes to get them.

After the first day and night, where the children stuffed themselves silly, used every soap in the bathroom, and slept until noon, suddenly it seemed like there was no end to the people coming and going from their rooms. Sometimes it’s people just dropping off more food, even clothes and toys, or medics giving out check ups and medication, and even a small troupe of what he later learns are Yamanaka.

This goes on for days, it’s a confusing, loud, chaotic time for Sai but he doesn’t think it’s a bad thing. The adults here are kind, warm even, and he even finds himself smiling along with the rest of the children when an old, civilian bard comes to sing and tell them stories.

Then the adoptions begin, and Sai meets her.

The medic nin and Yamanaka are scarce visitors to the children’s wing of the Tower now, and instead are replaced with couples and sometimes whole families. Most couples are Shinobi, some civilian, and some are from Clans, but they all seem friendly and open, eager to welcome a child, or children into their homes. With these families come the Chunnin assigned to interview and filter through applicants, as well as arrange meetings between prospective families and the children.

One of these Chunnin is also a child, smaller than him, but somehow with a presence that towers over all others. Hatake Mayu positively glows when she walks through a room, smile genuine and infectious, she sets the other children at ease terrifyingly fast. Even the older kids, who faced much more at the hands of Root than the Sai’s age division.

Sai finds himself gravitating towards her the entire time she’s in the tower. He follows after her every step, having to be stopped and escorted back to the children’s wing when it’s time for her to go home and he tries to follow her right out the door.

There’s a pull to her that he can’t explain, a warmth that radiates from her and illuminates some dark, forgotten part of himself. Sai doesn’t know what to do with these feelings, and where he once looked forward to finding a family of his own, now he dreads leaving the tower. Going where he won’t be able to see Mayu again.

It’s Mayu who solves the problem for him.

She’s wrapping up for the day, filing away the paperwork for the eight children taken to new homes today, and Sai sits on the desk beside the cabinet she’s rifling through, legs swinging idly. Iruka, Councilman Iruka actually but he insists on familiarity with the children, leans in through the open doorway smiling at the two of them. Sai thinks that if he can’t be family with Mayu, he would like to go with Iruka instead, a sentiment held by many of the Root children.

“Good work today, Mayu-chan!” Mayu smiles back at the man, wresting a file from one of the cabinet drawers and kicking the rusty thing shut.

“Sai,” Iruka turns warm brown eyes to him. “It’s time to head back now, Hokaka-san brought gyoza today.”

Sai withholds a forlorn sigh, already sliding off the desk top to land on the carpeted floor.

“It’s ok Iruka!” Mayu halts him with a wave of her hand, pulling a sheaf of paper from the thick file in hand. “I spoke to daddy this morning, and Sai is free to come home with me!” She turns to him and offers the papers in her hand, “If he would like to, of course?”

Sai, for the first time, can finally name the emotion bubbling in his chest. The feeling he gets every time he eats a full meal, gets to bath in hot water for as long as he wants, gets to hold Rika-Chan his stuffed pig without being punished, or spends any length of time with the impossible girl beside him.

Happiness.

Sai doesn’t hesitate, and snatches the papers from Mayu. The little girl laughs, Iruka sighs openly, fondly, exasperated. “I’ll take that as a yes!” Sai nods his head so fast he’s surprised it doesn’t fall off.

He clutches tightly to her hand and refuses to let go until they’re out of the Hokage Tower, and toeing off their shoes in the genkan of the Hatake household. It’s a warm house, filled with soft, lovely things, and bright colors. A house filled with happiness.

Mayu turns back to him, “How about sushi for lunch? It’s been a while since I made it, and I just got fresh fish this morning?”

She’s already wondering off into the kitchen, and Sai follows right behind her still awed and amazed.

He has something of his own now, something that is good and kind. He promises that he’ll never lose it, even if he has to fight against the world to keep it