Chapter Text
Kakashi dodged a nurse pushing a pregnant woman in a wheelchair as he ran through the hospital. His mission had taken longer than he'd anticipated. He'd promised Mebuki he'd be back in time. Dammit. Their daughter was less than a day old and he was already letting her down, just like he knew he would.
Fourteen was way too young to be a dad. Thirteen had probably been wildly too young to find comfort in a cute civilian girl that smelled nice and made him forget about his demons. But he had, and when she told him she was pregnant, he promised to be there. Minato-sensei had supported him when her parents tried to marry Mebuki off to some older merchant. Kakashi couldn't marry her until he was sixteen, so they had reluctantly allowed them to continue seeing each other.
After Minato died, Kakashi fell almost completely apart, and Mebuki struggled to deal with his depression and sudden hyper protectiveness. To make matters worse, Hiruzen was not nearly the lenient Hokage his sensei had been. ANBU missions lasted longer and were more dangerous than ever now that he wasn't just on Kushina guard duty.
He promised he'd be home to see their baby born, and he hadn't made it. She was probably going to be so upset.
Finally he got to her room. He opened the door with more force than was probably necessary and slid to a stop just inside. Mebuki was sitting in the hospital bed, her mother standing beside her. When she saw him, the older woman cast him an irritated glare.
“About time you showed up. I was sure you'd finally abandoned them after all.”
“Mother—”
She sniffed, turning her back to Kakashi and leaning over to kiss her daughter's temple. “I'll step out for now, darling. Have the nurse call me if you need me.”
Marching out, she gave Kakashi an appraising glare as she passed. She had been doing that ever since she discovered their relationship. Disappointed that her daughter hadn't had the good sense to get knocked up by someone from a more impressive clan.
He offered her a slight bow as she left, hardly caring about her opinion of him just then.
As soon as they were alone, he crossed the room. Mebuki gave him a tired, shaky smile. “I was worried when you were late. You're not hurt, are you?”
He shook his head, eyes drawn to the bassinet on the other side of the bed. Even through his mask, he could smell her, his pup. “I'm sorry I was late, I really tried to make it—”
“I know you did.”
Forcing his attention away from the tiny thing that smelled like him, he sat on the edge of the bed and reached for Mebuki's hand. “Are you alright? I really am sorry I wasn't here. Was it so bad?”
She twisted her lips, probably deciding how honest to be to spare his feelings. Her response confirmed this. “It wasn't so bad.”
Kakashi slid his mask down, gauging his reception before leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “You don't have to lie to me, Mebuki.”
She sighed, a weak smile flitting across her face as she looked at their baby. “Alright, it was crazy painful and I really missed you being here. I thought I was gonna split in half, it was so bad.” Kakashi cringed. “But then she slid out and that was it. Mother was with me, so it's not like I was alone.” She withdrew her hand from his so she could angrily fold her arms with a huff. “I almost would have preferred that, though. Our baby was hardly two minutes old before she started in on you. ‘You should have listened to me, Mebuki-chan, Kizashi-san would have been here’. ‘This is what it will be like to be married to a shinobi. Always gone when you need them, possibly dead in a ditch somewhere.’” She growled, still pissed off about it. “And she hasn't let up! I'm so sorry, Kakashi. My mother is a nightmare. I wish we didn't have to live with her. As soon as we're married we're moving out and never going back. She'll try to poison your daughter against you, I just know it.”
Wincing, knowing it was true, Kakashi reached for her hand again. “Well, she's not entirely wrong. I don't have any control over when I'm gone, and if my mission pace keeps up, I'll be gone a lot. Hiruzen did finally relent about my leave request though. I have two whole weeks off.”
She finally looked at him again, her blue eyes lit up. “Really? You mean it?”
He nodded. “Yeah, he didn't seem happy to do it, but technically it's ‘required leave’ so he had to approve it. Could have done without the condescension and making me wait until the last second to let me know, though."
Mebuki's smile was sympathetic and kind of sad. “I guess we both have people that would rather we weren't together.”
“I guess.” Unable to help himself, he looked over at the bassinet again, a mounting need to go to her building in his chest. All the things that haunted him, that made him think he couldn't do this felt heavier than ever.
Mebuki squeezed his hand. “Do you want to hold her?”
More than anything. Could he? He looked down at his hands. They were clean. So was his Jōnin shirt.
Only he could feel the blood. Would she?
“Can I?”
Mebuki nodded. “Of course. She's been waiting to meet her Daddy.”
Daddy. That was him now. Nearly in a daze, he stood up and walked around the bed. She was so tiny, his daughter, all bundled up in a hospital blanket. With as much care as he could manage, he picked her up. She weighed next to nothing in his arms.
“Careful of her head, her neck’s floppy.”
As terrified as he'd been just seconds ago, everything—all his ghosts, all the blood and nightmares—fell away as Kakashi felt his entire universe reorder. Her scent washed over him as he leaned in. My pup. When he nuzzled against her splotchy cheek, memorizing her scent, covering her in his, little wisps of silver hair escaped her knit cap. She has my hair. This tiny little baby was his, his family, his pack.
He had lost everyone; his dad, his friends, Minato. He'd been a shinobi, a killer since he was six years old. Friend killer. He didn't know if he could be a good dad, but he would give this little thing every bit of goodness there was left in him.
“What…” His voice caught. “What did you name her?”
“Sakura. They bloomed last night, like they were welcoming her. My mother hated it, and I know it doesn't quite fit with your family's customs, but—”
He smiled back at her. “It's perfect.”
Sitting beside Mebuki on the bed, Kakashi stared down at their daughter. Hatake Sakura. “It's perfect.”
.
.
.
Between missions, Kakashi spent as much time as he could with his little family. Sakura seemed to grow at an amazing rate every time he was away, but with her Hatake sense of smell, she always knew him. She was the only thing keeping him sane, and Kakashi loved her more than he thought possible.
But as the months passed, his relationship with Mebuki grew strained. He did everything he could to help her, but missions were long, and being a young, unwed mother was more difficult than either of them had expected. Their immature romance struggled to withstand the time apart and stress of raising a baby.
The pressure from her parents only made things worse. When he was away, her mother constantly harassed Mebuki: complaining about Kakashi, reminding her how much easier it would be with a civilian husband, repeating cruel village gossip. At first, she cried to him about the things she said whenever he came home, and he did his best to comfort her. But as the months wore on, her tears dried into jaded apathy, his sympathy worn thin beneath the constant stress of blood and violence. Only Sakura brought him any joy, only seeing them together gave Mebuki any desire to wait for him.
Eventually, even that wasn't enough.
A week after Sakura's first birthday, Kakashi came home to find Mebuki engaged to the older civilian man her mother had been pushing her towards. Their relationship being almost purely for Sakura at that point, he wasn't surprised or as hurt as he thought he should be. Something vaguely territorial rumbled in the back of his head, but he ignored it. Mebuki insisted it was a good match. Even though he wondered how well another man could love his daughter, Kakashi hoped this new man would make Mebuki happy. He certainly wasn't.
“So, will Sakura stay with me when I'm home then? Should I move? My apartment is kind of small—”
“Kizashi is going to adopt Sakura. He is going to be her father. My mother's right. A shinobi like you isn't fit to be her father.”
“What?” The ground felt like it was crumbling beneath him. For all that their relationship had fallen apart, Mebuki had always maintained that he was a good dad no matter what her mother said. Why was she saying this now? “Mebuki, you can't just take her from me—”
She wiped quickly at the tears in her eyes, her other hand fisted on the table. “You're hardly ever home, Kakashi.” She sniffled, tears slipping free despite her best efforts. Was this really what she wanted? “You'd be in and out of her life, leaving her always wondering when she'll see you again, if ever. I don't want that for her. Kizashi will always be here, every night, every morning. We'll be a normal civilian family, she'll be happier this way.”
No, no, she couldn't take her from him! Sakura was his, she was the only light left in his life. Choking up, Kakashi reached for Mebuki's hand but she pulled it back. “Don't do this, Mebuki, please! I'm doing my best, I know I'm gone a lot but Sakura is my—”
Unable to look at him, no longer even trying to hide her tears, Mebuki somehow held firm. “You know you're not going to be a good father, Kakashi.” Her voice shook. “You said so yourself before she was born, and you were right. You can't give her what she needs, you're too… you're too broken. I don't want the blood on your hands rubbing off on her. She doesn't deserve to be tainted by you.”
The air in his lungs scorched on its way out. His own words, whispered midnight confessions, used against him. She could have brutalized him with a blade and it would have hurt less.
Was she right? Would he only hurt Sakura? Everyone else he loved was dead. He had told himself, believed that this would be different, but… What if she was right? There was blood on his hands. So much he never felt clean. He felt it every time he held his daughter.
And worse, he'd already missed more than half her life. Hiruzen hadn't let him take much time off, and with a mother and step father, retiring to keep her would never be allowed.
Maybe he should take up his clan. She wouldn't be able to do this to him if he did, and Hiruzen wouldn't have a choice but…
No. Impossible. There was a reason he hadn't done it yet. He wouldn't tarnish Sakura's future with his father's clan. He could hardly bear the weight himself.
He wasn't strong enough.
This just might finally be the thing that killed him, but Kakashi loved his baby girl too much to be selfish. Mebuki was probably right. She would be better off without him in her life. Safer, untainted. And this man, Kizashi, could give her a stable, happy future and a name that didn't carry shame.
She deserved that. So did her mother.
Squinting down at the fists in his lap, Kakashi forced the words out. “Can I say goodbye, at least?”
Mebuki shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Um… well, I—”
“Please, Mebuki. Let me see my girl one last time.”
Eyes on the table in front of her, Mebuki swiped away more tears and nodded. “Alright.” She stood and beckoned him to follow. “She's sleeping.”
In Mebuki's room, his sweet baby girl slept soundly in the middle of the futon, her tiny fists resting on either side of her head. When he knelt beside her, he recoiled immediately. “What did you do to her? Why is her hair pink? And her scent… Mebuki what have you done?”
She wrung her hands, clearly nearly as destressed about it as he was. “Not so loud, you'll upset her. It's an anchored henge. This way she won't struggle with all your Hatake things, and she'll look like Kizashi's daughter. Mother said it will make it easier for everyone.”
Furious, devastated, Kakashi glared at her. “So she won't ever even be herself?”
Mebuki nodded down at her feet, her voice small. “This way she won't wonder what happened to you. By the time she's old enough to have memories, Kizashi will be the only father she'll know. Besides, if she looked like you, she would never be free of you or… of your reputation.”
Kakashi could find no fault in her argument no matter how much he hated it. Maybe this was for the best too.
Turning back to Sakura, he leaned over so he could whisper to her. She smelled wrong. It made him sick. Unable to keep back the tears as he patted her stomach and brushed his nose along her round cheek, he forced out a final goodbye. “I… I'm so sorry I can't be what you need, I'm sorry I have to leave you. I love you, Sakura-chan, so, so much, and I always will. Grow up well.” He kissed her cheek. “Goodbye, my precious little petal.”
Mebuki was staring hard at the floor when he stood to leave, tears falling unchecked. If she was going to do this to him—even if she was right, even if it was clearly hurting her too—she'd look him in the eye. He gently grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “Promise me she'll be safe and happy, that this Kizashi will love her and treat her well.”
She nodded. “I swear, Kakashi. He's a good man. She won't ever want for anything.”
“Will you let her go to the Academy like we planned? The henge won't be able to erase her chakra or the talent I've given her.”
She frowned. “Do you really want that life for her, Kakashi?”
He only gave it a moment's thought. “She might never have my name, or any of my looks, but if she's like me at all, you won't be able to stop her.”
Her cheeks puffed and her brows wrinkled and he recognized the beginnings of a fit—she hadn't ever been excited about raising Sakura to be a kunoichi—but it fizzled out with a heavy sigh. “Alright, if she asks, I promise I'll allow it.”
Nodding, his heart caving in, he released her and flickered away without a backward glance. If he'd have looked at his pup again, he wouldn't have been able to leave her.
Back in his empty apartment, Kakashi let himself fall apart. It felt like he was dying. He'd felt this way after his father, after Obito and Rin, after Minato… This time it was so much worse.
Sakura was his, his blood, his precious pup, his whole entire world. Now, without her to anchor him, he knew the darkness that haunted him would surely swallow him whole.
Maybe he should let it.