Chapter 2
The Sage and the young Anbu walked side by side through the night toward Kakashi's barracks. Content to keep their thoughts to themselves, Kakashi's gaze lingered on the path they trod while Jiraiya beamed up at the stars, shining crisply in the clear sky. Both feeling tired and pensive, they kept a slow pace together, embracing the cool of the autumn air. As they passed a galley of shops and street vendors, merchants hawked their victuals, and Kakashi's stomach rumbled with interest.
"We should grab a bite to eat," Jiraiya suggested obligingly. "This would be a good spot."
The young Anbu shrugged his agreement, following the Sage wherever his nose lead them. He perused their choices, settling on a kushiyaki merchant so they could eat on the go. He ordered for them both and handled the payment.
"So I have a dilemma," the Sage told him casually as they continued on, passing him a bamboo skewer laden with food.
"Oh?" Kakashi slipped his mask down discreetly and took an appreciative nibble of fish. It was hot and tender, almost melting in his mouth.
Jiraiya nodded, indulging in a substantial bite of his own. When it burned his tongue, he gasped comically, puffing on air to cool the contents. "There are some things I feel you should know," he garbled around the bite, "But I worry it will only make things worse for you."
That was ominous. It hooked his curiosity. "Why me?" Kakashi inquired of both points.
The Sage munched his food with abandon, then answered. "Because I feel liable for you," he explained. "As my grand-pupil, so to speak."
It was no secret that Minato-sensei esteemed his old instructor, but traditionally, a sensei was not beholden to his students' students. Kakashi pondered the motive behind this unconventional allegiance as Jiraiya amended his statement.
"And because I imagine things are already hard enough for you to cope with."
The young Anbu breathed steadily through his nose. "I see."
But he didn't see, not fully, because Jiraiya wasn't just referring to the Fourth Hokage's death. "Minato sought my guidance about you frequently. You have known much adversity."
Kakashi swallowed his next bite too quickly, and he felt the sting of it down his throat. Exactly how much did this man know about him?
"Ah, don't be self-conscious," the man advised him, waving his half-eaten meal. "It is natural for a teacher to petition advice when he cares for his student."
Kakashi decided to turn the tables, to test how well informed the Sage was. "Well then," he replied in a laid-back tone. "What do you think Minato-sensei would say about it?"
Jiraiya grinned at him, fish in his teeth. He detected the dare and enjoyed it.
"Hmm," he hummed, making a show of deliberating. "Well, for one, I think he'd say you are well aware of the rules. And if I were to disclose my secrets to you, I would certainly be breaking a great many of those rules, putting you in quite a compromising situation."
The young Anbu did not rise to the bait. The man smirked at him, picking at his teeth with a fingernail, then resumed his conjecture. "But, as unsavory as that may be to you, he would say you still prefer to know the truth. Especially when it comes to the people you care about most." Jiraiya stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face him. "The real question is whether you can endure all that comes with it."
It was an excellent counter challenge.
Kakashi feigned indifference and didn't stop walking. The Sage fell in step behind him, one arm tucked under the other as he finished off his food.
"On one hand, your grief is too fresh to abide," the Sage casually theorized, as though he were analyzing the weather. "It's possibly one loss too many on the backs of your comrades and your father. You've been in a dark place for a long time."
Kakashi tore another mouthful from his meal.
"But on the other hand, closure is a tricky thing - like salt to a wound - and I think you know this," Jiraiya countered his own argument. "It's likely why you asked to meet the baby. Pain is often the impetus for healing. By understanding pain, humans gr-"
"Your point?" Kakashi snapped.
"It's going to hurt you," the older man said with a shrug. "And it crushed Minato every time you got hurt. I just don't know if I can justify it, even though he's gone. Call me sentimental."
Kakashi slowed to a stop. The revelation made his heart unbalanced. "I never meant to hurt him."
The Sage's hand came down on his shoulder. "Of course you didn't, but it's inevitable. Students hurt their teachers, children hurt their parents. It's a fact of life, as you will probably discover firsthand one day. It's not usually intentional, but it happens."
Kakashi did know the transverse was true. Parents often hurt their children, too. And whether it was intentional or not didn't always make a difference.
"Then it doesn't matter if it hurts me," Kakashi mused, keeping his thoughts steadfastly on the current subject as he looked up to the Sage. "The pain is inevitable, so why hesitate to share what you know?"
Jiraiya gave a triumphant grunt. "Good question. Because in this situation I am the teacher, and you are the student, and those of us in authority must strive to do no harm to our subordinates. But while we try to protect you, we can't shield you from everything."
Kakashi scoffed, shrugging the man's hand off his shoulder. "You have no authority over me, nor are you obligated to me."
The Sage chuckled. "Not in this case, no." His face softened. "But for his sake, I still want to protect you."
The Anbu frowned. "Protect me from the truth?"
The older man nodded, then clarified, "The immediate pain of the truth, yes. But also from the potential damage of deception."
The younger man's eye narrowed. "You know something about Minato-sensei's death that isn't common knowledge."
Jiraiya's brows jumped briefly, and he glanced around. "Keep your voice down," he chided, folding his arms, then muttered under his breath. "Powers of deductive reasoning indeed. Yes, but that is only part of it."
Kakashi began to walk again, glaring straight ahead as he polished off his food. "The Hokage was tight-lipped about it. I've been suspicious anyway."
"Well this doesn't only impact you and me," Jiraiya resumed pace with him, pointing at him with his empty bamboo stick to punctuate his point. "We have others to think about here."
Naruto. This involved the baby too? The Sage had him, hook, line, and sinker. Kakashi desired to know, but the sense of foreboding returned again, alerting him to the likelihood there would be an irreparable price. It was the same tension he felt in the Hokage's office, when Kakashi perceived that this man had an agenda, deeper than the surface objective to help him meet the boy.
"What is this knowledge going to cost?" Kakashi asked.
The red lines on Jiraiya's face appeared longer. His sandals clopped against the hard ground. "It's hard to predict, specifically the long term implications," he hedged. "But as for the most immediate, I'd say your peace of mind, your ability to trust and obey the leadership in Konoha implicitly."
These did not surprise the young Anbu. His peace of mind was already shot, and he trusted no one. It was a hazard of his career.
"Not to mention, I expect this will put us at odds, too." Jiraiya added.
Peculiar. Kakashi was already beginning to feel at odds with the older man the more this conversation continued.
"Furthermore," the Sage went on, "I'll require a pact, of sorts. There is too much risk for this sensitive information to fall into the wrong hands, especially in your line of work."
That one made sense, even if Kakashi didn't like it. "Is that all?" he sneered.
Jiraiya's face went grave. "It might force you to stay away from Naruto as well."
Kakashi did not expect that. The boy was already precious to him, thanks to the Sage's meddling. So this was the bitter price for it.
"I don't understand," Kakashi argued icily. "Minato-sensei entrusted me to safeguard Kushina during her pregnancy. Clearly you trust me too, since you intervened on my behalf, and you made it possible for me to meet their child. Now in the ultimate demonstration of trust, you offer me the truth about my sensei's death, but in the same gesture, you deny me the ability to protect Naruto?"
"I never said you can't protect him. You're an elite shinobi," The Sage countered, quirking a brow. "You can protect him from a distance."
Oh.
So Jiraiya didn't want him to be close, to have a relationship with the boy.
I shall keep my distance.
Kakashi supposed he had backed himself into this corner. In his earlier desperation, he had promised the Hokage that he would keep away from the child in exchange for one meeting with him.
It was irksome, but if he were being honest with himself, when had he ever managed to successfully protect anyone he was close to?
Jiraiya departed his company at the proverbial fork in the road, advising Kakashi to think on all these things over night, and vowed to send him an amphibious messenger in the morning for his decision. If he decided to agree to the Sage's conditions, the toad would produce a scroll with instructions for how to find him so they might speak in private.
Kakashi fell across his futon; only his shoes were removed and his vest discarded. It felt too much like an overwhelming chore to finish undressing for bed. His bandages were coming undone and needed to be retied, but it was the last thing on his mind.
Rin.
Something about meeting Naruto made him think of her a lot tonight. Rin's smiling round face and warm brown eyes were a sweet change from his usual memory of her. He imagined her rocking their sensei's child affectionately, planting kisses on the blonde head and promising to spoil the infant like a real auntie would. She would have been so fond of the boy. It could have been a reality if he hadn't failed his promise to Obito.
Obito.
His overwrought brain couldn't handle this tonight. All he could do was yank at his hair and try not to scream, try not to spiral again.
Sensei.
Jiraiya's price was too steep.
Father.
Naruto was all he had left, his only joy sown in so much sorrow.
Tears bled from both eyes, into his headband, into his hair, while he glared daggers at the water stained ceiling.
There had to be some unknown danger lurking for the boy, that much was clear. Danger was normal for any jinchuriki, Kakashi knew. It was fortunate that Naruto had one of the Legendary Sannin to be his guardian - it would certainly take a shinobi of that caliber to bring up such a marked child. But if there were something especially secret about his parents' deaths - something beyond the Nine Tails' havoc - Kakashi had to know it.
In the end, he determined his real skill lay in the hunt. His track record had proven he wasn't reliable at keeping anyone safe or alive. The best way he could keep Naruto from harm would be to go after whoever might have intent to harm him. And to do that, he needed the whole truth.
"Hurry and become a man that could be in one of my novels."
Jiraiya's advice seemed a lifetime ago. Perhaps this was the last chance he would have.
The toad arrived at his window like Jiraiya said it would, shortly after dawn. A storm had blown through some time in the night, and the messenger croaked for him urgently from outside in the chilly air. When Kakashi opened the glass to the creature, it was clearly disgruntled from waiting in a cold puddle on the sill. It hopped inside with a wet splat and belched at him disdainfully.
"Verdict?" it inquired bluntly.
Kakashi whispered to the creature that he agreed to the Sage's terms. Immediately it burped up a small scroll with instructions to burn after reading. Then, promptly, with a clap of its tiny feet, the cranky toad vanished.
Kakashi peeled open the miniature parchment, no bigger than his pinky finger. The slim script disclosed a remote place within Konoha and details for what to do when he arrived. Once he had the information securely in his mind, he struck a match and caught the corner of the parchment on the open flame. He watched it succumb to the fire, and when the last remnant curled into a smoking crisp, he crushed it in his palm. Flakes of ash singed his fingers for a second, but once they cooled, he smeared the black soot over the exposed part of his face.
He would not risk recognition, not even among the Anbu. For Naruto's sake, he had to be indistinguishable. So rather than wear his usual mask or gear, he chose to cover his hair with a hooded cloak he seldom used, then snatched his pack on his way out the door.
Keeping to the darker alleys and lesser traveled roads out of town, he eventually wandered off the trail and into the thick of the woods. Recent rains left the trees heavy with dew, and drops continued to fall from their branches after the clouds had passed. Kakashi tramped through the damp leaf litter and jagged stones, down a steep embankment to the burbling bend of a cold creek, swollen with fresh water. The earth gave way to his steps here, causing his toes to submerge into the cold sludge. Crouching down, he nipped his thumb between his teeth and pressed the bead of blood into the mud to summon one of his ninken.
When Pakkun materialized on the spot, the dog was momentarily taken aback by his master's unusual appearance.
"Uh... 'sup, Pup? New look?" he asked lightly, sniffing at the dark smudges around Kakashi's eye.
"Make absolutely certain I'm alone," Kakashi ordered. "Your sense of smell still outranks mine."
"'Kay..." the pug agreed warily at the compliment, then lowered his voice. "Are you in danger?"
"Not yet," Kakashi replied, nostrils flaring as he looked around. "Just be quick."
Pakkun's nose met the moist ground right away. He snuffled about in a wide arc, kicking up wet leaves as he trotted. Occasionally he disappeared beneath them where the soil was unexpectedly loose. When he circled back to his master, he pushed his filthy face insistently into Kakashi's palm for a rub. "We're alone, boss."
"Good." Kakashi gratified him with a brief scratch between the ears, fishing an object out of his pack with the other hand. "Now see if you can find one of these."
He presented a three-pronged kunai with inscriptions on the handle. Pakkun's face went downcast when he saw it, his round eyes meeting his master's. The animal was well aware who that weapon belonged to. "Kakashi... what are you-"
"There's another like it hidden here somewhere. I need to find it."
This troubled the pug, but he complied. Minato Namikaze's scent was subtle, but it was familiar, and it was definitely there on the handle. Pakkun turned and lifted his snout, testing the humid air for a heading, which proved difficult. But after a moment, he was on the scent. Kakashi followed the ninken around an outcropping of boulders, and not far away was a cluster of old trees. Hidden among the gnarled roots was the stump of an aged oak. A matching knife was embedded in its decaying bark, as though the blade itself were responsible for the tree's demise.
"Well done, Pakkun," Kakashi murmured, tucking the original kunai back into his bag.
The dog's ears perked at the praise, but his expressive face was forlorn. "Kakashi, why-"
His master shook his head sharply and turned toward the stump. "Not now. I need to go, and you can't follow me."
Pakkun settled back on his hind quarters sullenly. "Will you explain later?"
Kakashi knelt and kept his back to the pug, his answer delayed. "I... can't."
The ninken growled softly. "Will you be safe?"
"Yes," Kakashi answered distractedly, his attention entirely engrossed by the blade in the stump.
The pug's eyes were doubtful slits. "You'd better," he grumped, and in a wink, Pakkun was gone.
Dogs were certainly better companions than frogs, he thought.
Balanced on the balls of his feet, Kakashi examined the dagger cautiously without touching it. He sighed, then took in his surroundings once more. He had never tried this himself before, but he had seen it demonstrated plenty. Minato-sensei had mastered the hiraishin in a way that probably rivaled the Second Hokage's own development of it. Kakashi psyched himself up for the plunge, then grabbed the handle firmly with one hand and yanked it out of the stump.
He should have closed his eye or something. He fell backwards with the movement, his butt landing on hard, uneven ground instead of the forgiving earth. The knife clattered somewhere nearby with a resounding ring. He was suddenly in a dark place, and the temperature was abruptly colder. Kakashi's head felt like it was spinning madly without any apparent reason.
"That was quicker than I expected."
Kakashi glanced up to find Jiraiya's silhouette wreathed in the orange glow of candlelight. An intense nausea prevented him from moving or replying. He leaned over onto an elbow and puked on the sleeve of his coat.
The Sage was shaking his head. "I guess you don't have his knack for it."
His shadow disappeared for a moment, then he returned with a wet cloth and a bamboo flask of frigid water. Kakashi wiped at his mouth and accepted them gratefully, but remained where he was on the floor, hoping the shock of cold drink would drive off the dizziness. Jiraiya plucked up the blade and harrumphed.
"I never did understand how he used those things. Miserable, aren't they?"
"Where are we?" Kakashi rasped, inadvertently shivering.
"Under ground," Jiraiya replied, pocketing the knife and squatting over him. "Can't tell you where, exactly." He tugged at Kakashi's shoulder insistently. "Come on, let's get this off of you."
The young Anbu didn't feel quite ready to be upright, but he obeyed anyway and shed his soiled cloak, feeling absurdly embarrassed at getting sick. The Sage wordlessly chucked it aside and drew Kakashi up to his unsteady feet, guiding him deeper into the catacomb. The only sources of light were arranged over a stone slab. Kakashi spied a massive scroll and a small assortment of tools on one end, including a brush, and a bottle of ink. He shuddered, feeling like a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter.
The Sage noticed. "Having second thoughts?" he asked darkly.
Kakashi's eye was like steel when he locked with Jiraiya's. "I just want to protect Naruto, no matter what kind of pain I have to endure."
The Sage's amused expression was abruptly eclipsed by these words. Kakashi couldn't have known that he was giving voice to echoes from the past, nor how much it would disturb him. Jiraiya considered the young shinobi at his side for a moment, tracing unhappy parallels between him and former pupils.
"There's no going back from this," he warned.
But the stubborn young Anbu had already made up his mind.
Kakashi complied with the terms of the Cursed Tongue Eradication Seal, more on the grounds that he doubted his self-control when it came to Naruto. If the boy ever asked him in the future about his parents, he didn't think he would have the strength to deny his wishes. Jiraiya formally outlined the details of their agreement: Kakashi would be physically prohibited from speaking about anything they discussed here in this place by the seal. But as a means of additional insurance, the Sage would also impose a secondary seal - a blood pact - layered beneath the first. In the event that Kakashi was ever subjected to psychological interrogation, the subsidiary seal would consequently trigger a 'lethal response'.
"Heart attack?" The young Anbu inquired, morbidly curious.
"More like a stroke," The Sage grimaced, uncorking the glass bottle of ink. "Does it really matter? You'll die regardless."
"Well, I think I'd like to know how I might be forced to die," Kakashi told him sardonically. "If this is how I wind up going."
The Sage rolled his eyes. "The blood supply will be cut off from your brain. You'll be dead, quickly, and in no uncertain terms."
"Lovely."
"I picked it out just for you," Jiraiya jeered. "Seemed like your style."
"Alright, alright, I accept," Kakashi huffed impatiently, taking a knee. "Let's just get it over with."
Jiraiya took up Minato's knife, beseeching the dead man's forgiveness, and administered the seals with patent revulsion. Once the unpleasant deeds were finally done, he flicked away the ink brush and went straight to business.
"Kushina did not die in childbirth," he said slowly. "But the Hokage wants the village to believe that."
Blinking away residual tears, Kakashi stood and gaped in the knife's reflective surface, watching the dark lines on his tongue fade away. "It's a convenient cover story," he replied mildly, securing his mask snugly around his nose once again. It offered him immense comfort to replace it after the invasive procedure.
Jiraiya corked the ink. "The Forensics team determined the strain of the battle after labor proved to be too great for her, so it isn't entirely untrue. But ultimately it seems they both died from the wounds they incurred in the fight. She departed this world at Minato's side, protecting their newborn baby."
The young Anbu ground his teeth, trying to fathom why the Third Hokage would want to hide her heroism. Then the significance of what he said dawned on him, his eye going wide. "That means-"
"There's more," the Sage told him grudgingly. "I know where their bodies are."
Their bodies. The old Lord Third had insisted there were no bodies to bury.
"Spare no details," Kakashi growled. "I want to know everything you know."
Jiraiya wiped his stained fingers on a rag. "It was a joint decision, actually. The Hokage and I both figured it would be in everyone's best interest if there were no grave. There are people capable of forbidden jutsu that would exploit the opportunity to use them." Jiraiya's face was fierce when he looked on him. "And I'm not talking about your typical use of a shinobi corpse."
Kakashi's eye gleamed, and he gestured to his mouth as a reminder of his hex for silence. "Go on."
"Reanimation Jutsu," the Sage said, lip curled with disgust. "We have reason to fear someone would resurrect Minato and Kushina's bodies to control the young new jinchuriki. To manipulate Naruto. To hurt him."
It made Kakashi's hackles rise to simply hear the words spoken. The idea of it incensed him. "Someone?"
"Nothing solid yet," Jiraiya grumbled. "But we suspect foul play. When we discovered the bodies of the midwives and Anbu guards, they didn't appear to have died in the Nine Tails' rampage." Jiraiya closed his eyes to honor their memory. "Biwako-sama was one of them. She had a kunai in her back, and there was evidence of an explosion."
The Third Hokage's late wife. Kakashi's gaze fell to the side. "They were all murdered? Over the Kyuubi?"
The Sage inspected his fingernails. "Possibly."
Kakashi squeezed his fist. "So it's a little more personal for the Lord Third after all."
Jiraiya confirmed with a nod. "It is, but his hands are tied. I have some ideas, so I'll be heading the investigation. And now you're in on it, too."
It wasn't satisfactory. Kakashi wanted a name, a lead.
"But before we get to all of that," the Sage crossed his arms, jutting his chin to the large scroll on the slab. "Do you want to see them?"
The young shinobi straightened where he sat, re-evaluating the significance of the massive parchment on the slab. "You mean...?"
"I understand if you would rather not," Jiraiya told him sympathetically. "It's not easy to see them like this. And I can't leave you alone with them. But the choice is yours."
Kakashi's gaze lingered over the enormous scroll, the hairs on his neck standing on end again.
Perhaps he would finally feel at rest, to know without doubt they were well beyond this realm of heartbreak and despair.
There was an obvious, gaping hole in his sensei's torso, but The Fourth Hokage still appeared dignified after his violent death. He lay stretched out across the thin paper of the burial scroll beside his bride, whose red hair was tied in an uncharacteristic braid that wound down her shoulder and coiled at her side. Kakashi didn't like the braid - it didn't look like Kushina - but it was probably prudent for cleansing and preserving their bodies. Most of the blood had been wiped away, and they both donned simple shrouds. Their faces were slightly angled toward each other, forever seeking out one another.
Kakashi expected himself to weep when he saw them, but he didn't. He couldn't, though he wasn't sure why. Grief, he discovered, was a strange phenomenon. In situations that seemed conventional to lament, like funerals or wakes, Kakashi only felt distant. Infuriatingly, his personal moments of mourning generally came at random; he might break down into tears at the most unexpected word or burn with rage at some unrelated trigger. For him, heartbreak had no courtesy, held no regard for any person, place, or time.
However, the Sage - who now appeared to have lost his beloved student all over again - had to cover his face and back away to regain his composure while Kakashi looked over his mentors' former shells with a clinical detachment.
Minato had taken the brunt of the damage from the fight, and his body showed it. His face was so bruised, it was hard to discern how pale he truly was. The corners of his mouth were stained by blood, but there was a peacefulness in the curve of his mouth. He likely knew he had died well as a shinobi, husband, and father.
Kushina's lower belly still protruded like she was with child, although less pronounced than it was in those final days of her pregnancy. If Kakashi hadn't already met Naruto, he might imagine the child was still in her womb. Jiraiya said she too had a hole in her middle, like Minato, albeit smaller. Both of them bore the same fleshly voids that would forever signify the missing piece of their family: the boy they fought so hard to give life. It made Kakashi's purpose churn inside him with vengeance.
When Jiraiya recovered, he returned to Kakashi's side.
"You'll keep them with you?" Kakashi asked, already knowing the answer.
The Sage bowed his head over the corpses. "It will be my honor to carry them with me, always."
The young Anbu nodded. "Very well. Thank you for this. I've seen enough."
It was his turn to step back and sag against the cavern wall, leaving Jiraiya to re-seal the bodies within the scroll. Kakashi watched while the Sage wove his hand signs, and the remains of his precious mentors descended once more into their paper tomb. It was a comfort to know that if their bones could not truly be at rest, they would at least be near the people who loved them. It pained him to think Naruto might never be aware of it, that he was forbidden to tell the child about his heroic mother and father. The thought prompted another question.
"When will you tell Naruto about them?" Kakashi asked, looking down at his muddy feet.
In his periphery, Jiraiya shook his head, carefully re-rolling the scroll. "I don't plan to."
Kakashi swept a dismissive hand toward the cylinder on the slab. "I don't mean about all this. But he will eventually ask you about them, if you don't tell him first. Haven't you considered when he would want to know? Or what you might say?"
The Sage's jaw worked in silent thought for a moment as though he were puzzled by this. "Why me?"
Kakashi was perplexed. "Who else would tell him? Obviously I can't."
Jiraiya braced his arms on the slab and hung his head as though this were a conversation too heavy to bear. "Kakashi, I can't tell him either."
A muscle jumped in Kakashi's jaw. "Why not? They're... they were his parents."
It was like they were speaking in circles. The Sage straightened slowly and squared his shoulders, but he did not look at the young shinobi directly. "Because no one is going to tell him."
Kakashi's brows pinched as though he had misheard. "What?"
"We must all participate in this deception, Kakashi. To protect Naruto."
The young anbu quivered with the onslaught of anger. He approached the slab and leveled with the Sage, eye to eye. "What do you mean, no one? He has to know who they were! That they loved him enough to die for him!"
"He does not need to know!" Jiraiya hissed. "Not while he's young, not anytime soon. Trust me, it's a kindness, and it's safer for him this way. For all he will know, his parents were shinobi who died in the line of duty, like so many of his fellow orphans. For once, the old man and I actually agree on this."
Kakashi recoiled as though he had been burned. "You and the Hokage planned to hide his parentage from him?"
"Yes," the Sage spat, as though it made perfect sense. "As well as the fact that he's the jinchuriki, although I'm sure he'll figure that out on his own soon enough." He jabbed a finger at Kakashi as if to blame him for not understanding it sooner. "This is why you're forbidden to speak of it."
The young shinobi couldn't believe his ears. "Minato-sensei would not want this," he snarled, then raised his voice. "Kushina-sama would not want this!"
Jiraiya scrubbed his face with his hands. "They wanted Naruto to be safe," he contended. "But they chose to seal the Kyuubi inside him. If he grows up knowing the Fourth was his father, he may be obstinate, reckless - and that is bad enough. But when he is apprised of the Nine Tails within, he will hate his father for sealing it inside him. No good can come from his knowing."
Kakashi heaved a smoldering breath, unable to parry this point. Why had Minato-sensei sealed the demon fox inside his child? What could have possessed him to do such a heinous thing to his own son?
"Then what will you say," he demanded instead, circling back to his initial question, "when Naruto discovers you aren't his real father?"
Jiraiya had the grace to appear tormented by this question. His shoulders curled in and he squeezed his eyes closed. "Kakashi," he nearly whispered, "I am not going to raise him."
The young Anbu's eye bulged in its socket. "What?"
The Sage smacked his lips. "I never said I was going to. Besides, I'm leaving."
Kakashi clenched his teeth. "What do you mean, you're leaving?"
"To investigate, remember? Naruto will stay in the orphanage."
Kakashi felt like he couldn't breathe.
"He'll be in good hands," Jiraiya assured him. "Better than mine. I have no experience with children."
Kakashi's reserve was in tatters. He felt like he had been utterly deceived. He finally choked out, "You mean... you're abandoning him?!"
"He will be well cared for," the man growled. "I never intended to stay in the village, and the road is no place for a baby, let alone a jinchuriki. He will be safer here."
"But you're his Godfather!" Kakashi seethed. "What was the point of signing for him if you had no intention of raising him?!"
The Sage rounded on him angrily. "Because Minato wasn't supposed to die!" he roared in a fit of rage, tears welling in his eyes. "It was just a formality. Minato asked, and I accepted. But he was supposed to be Naruto's father; he was supposed to be the Hokage; he was supposed to be the one to finally bring peace!"
Kakashi was not cowed by the outburst. It only fueled his fury. He paced a small circuit back and forth by the slab, full of anxious energy. "You kept me in the dark," he accused softly. "I wouldn't have agreed to all of this if I had known!
"These details had no bearing on our arrangement," Jiraiya argued. "You wanted the truth, and you're getting it, ugly as it is."
"But I would have raised him!" Kakashi cried. "If I knew you were leaving, I would have taken him in!"
The Sage braced his trembling arms on the slab again, whether from anger or amusement wasn't clear. "I've seen your file, Kakashi. You're in hospital more often than not. Do you really think you could raise a child?"
It was yet another reminder of the fact that the man was privileged with more information on him than was strictly comfortable. Kakashi swallowed hard. "I'd leave the Anbu, find work in the village."
Jiraiya's smile was a twisted thing. "You're in the bingo book, Kakashi. There's a bounty on your head. You know you don't get to just walk out of this life."
Kakashi was grasping at straws, he knew. "But we have a duty to take care of him."
"You can hardly take care of yourself," the Sage muttered. "There are others more qualified than us."
Kakashi didn't want to concede to this man, but he knew he was right. Anbu or not, he couldn't raise a baby on his own. It was absurd to even imagine it. He chose to make a humble appeal instead.
"I may not have any choice," Kakashi acknowledged. "But you do. Please make the right choice. Don't leave him."
The Sage wouldn't budge. "This is the right choice," he insisted, "I leave in the morning. I'll keep you informed of what I find, and you keep an eye out for Naruto."
Kakashi glowered at him from across the stone. "I can't forgive you for deserting him."
"Like I said before, I figured this may be too much for you," the Sage groused.
The young Anbu drew back his shoulders. "I will tell Naruto about his parents one day. He deserves to know."
Jiraiya smirked at the declaration. "Then you'll just have to outlive me."
"I intend to," Kakashi retorted.
The Sage actually laughed, a humorless sound. Perhaps he didn't believe him.
With nothing more to say to each other, the young shinobi seized his sensei's hiraishin in his hand, and the spacetime jutsu deposited him in the wet grass of a foggy clearing, the deafening torrent of a nearby waterfall rushing in his ears. He dropped to his knees and elbows when his gut clenched in protest of the unnatural travel.
His toes were numb with cold, and the fog left goosebumps on his bare arms, but dry heaving here on the wet grass was far preferable to being in Jiraiya's company for another moment.
Kakashi knew one thing for certain. He never wanted to speak to the man again.