
We're in this together
Kakashi was abolished when he finally found civilization. It was much too large for his liking. Some of the structures were as big or even bigger than the Hokage’s building, and it was oh so much bigger than he was used to.
Kami, how would he be able to even find a store in this mess of a village.
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Turns out, he wasn’t able to find any stores with what he was searching for after all. He wasn’t even sure if a place this big even counted as a village in the first place.
Of course, he stayed in the shadows, not letting anyone get a small glimpse at him. But not a trace of any scrolls could be found. Until he came across one small little store on the outskirts of the village. Far.. almost too far away from where he started.
Maybe he realized a bit too late that he had no source of currency whatsoever when he entered the shop.
It was an old, beaten up looking thing. It was small, and almost looked abandoned. He almost thought that when he walked in, but was met wrong when a kind looking old man greeted him. He was somehow able to hide his eyes from sight, who knows what people's reaction would be if they saw him having the sharingan. He roamed around the place, it was a weapons shop. Not what he was specifically searching for. But still good. He could hear the old man approaching, not bothering to turn around? He was currently holding a traditional looking tanto, simple, nothing like his fathers. Yet he found some familiarity with it. It was surprisingly well balanced and sharp, a good sword.
“Found anything you’d like, lad?” It was the man, his gaze was focused on the tanto in his hands. Kakashi awkwardly shifted. He had no money. But he simply nodded. The old man grinned at that, shifting his weight on the old cane he used for support.
“Maa… I’ll have to come back to get it, no money on me right now, see?” He awkwardly drawled, yet to his surprise the grin didn’t falter. “Of course! Feel free to come anytime young man.” Kakashi smiled, “Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi.” “Mm… well then Hatake-san, you can call this old man Shin” the man, now dubbed Shin, smirked. And Kakashi chuckled, a heavy, full chuckle, one that he would usually share with his genin. It surprised him, but he brushed it off.
“Maa… then sayonara, Shin-san”
———————-
He was cloud gazing, trying to think of anything productive he could do when he suddenly felt exhausted again. Letting out a sigh, he instantly realized the cause of his tiredness. He didn’t have enough chakra, even if he was a kage-level shinobi, the Hatake simply weren’t born with the needed amount of chakra for a Kekkei Genkai like the Sharingan. Especially since he had 2 now, he hardly had enough chakra to use his single Sharingan for a couple of hours in the first place.
This was going to be a problem.
But that still didn’t answer his question on why he had two sharingan. His thoughts continued to wander, ‘Obito must be laughing at me from the pure lands’ he thought, sighing.
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He had found scraps of worn paper around the house, and a box of—crayons?—that he used to make some barrier seals. He used the few kunai he still had to pin them to trees around the house, letting his chakra run through them as they activated. With that done, he let out a noise of contentment. Closing his eyes, both of them, to conserve chakra.
He later found a bag that looked suspiciously like the backpack he had stored away in the back of his closet back in his apartment. Shuffling through, it was. There were kunai, shuriken, senbon, an old bingo book that probably wasn’t up to date, soldier pills, and a med kit tucked in the front pocket. He deemed most of it useful—all except the bingo book—and stored it out of sight next to his futon.
His pack of ninken had gone out and caught enough rabbits for all of them to share. So he settled down next to the small fire he made and started to skin them. Nothing in the kitchen worked, so he instead used a small katon jutsu, capable with perceptible chakra control. His reserves were already worn as it is, after being forced to keep his eyes open for most of the time to complete the simplest of tasks.
Snapped out of his thoughts, he scrambled up to snatch the skewered meat off the fire, a nice visible char starting to form. It was tough and dry, partly burnt, but edible. He canceled out the conversation stringing between the ninken circled around him, Instead, he sat under a large tree, brushing off some dirt that was on his uniform, thinking. He should probably get some clothes, he couldn’t stay in the anbu uniform forever, and he had to admit it needed a good wash.
He gave a small huff, his head resting on his knee as he fiddled with the leftover of the skewer. So much to do, he was getting too old for this.