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It was official. The Hokage had gone senile for suggesting it and Kakashi himself finally lost the remaining fragments of his sanity for actually accepting it. Why else would he be standing in front of the orphanage, holding papers granting him guardianship of Naruto Uzumaki?

He could still back off. Turn around right here and now and return the papers to the Hokage, telling him that he changed his mind. He was an Anbu, one of the most proficient operatives in the shadows. They couldn't force a child on him if he refused. In the end, a broken soldier like him wasn't the most suitable person to look after such a special child.

And yet, his feet remained rooted.

A breeze blew past. Kakashi could feel wet specks splatter across the small uncovered part of his face, first heralds of the inevitable rain. The sheet of cloud covered the sky, light grey that deepened to dark steel. A blanket of stillness wrapped up tightly around the village.

Such a dank and dreary late afternoon. Its austere chilliness embraced Kakashi like an arm of an old friend around his shoulders, at the same time weighing him down like a sin clinging on his back.

It had been six years since that night. Six years of running. Six years of avoiding their child, of not wanting to face his grief and guilt, to even acknowledge it.

Kakashi forced himself to move.

At the entrance, he paused again. With Minato-sensei's disappointed gaze carved into the stormy blue sky and Kushina's dissatisfied ramble etched into a faraway thunder, with the guardianship papers burning his fingers, he wasn't allowed to flee anymore.

Kakashi's knock was jerky and fast. After a few moments, he heard steps approaching. Hinges whined as the door was pushed open by a stern-looking woman made of severe lines and detached professionalism. Time clearly favored her. She didn't look too old despite wrinkles around her eyes and more white hair than black in her neatly combed bun. Her pair of sharp eyes contained the heaviness and vicissitudes of time, as well as the harshness and shrewdness.

Kakashi didn't like her. "I came here to take over the guardianship of one of your children," he said instead, extending her the papers.

Without a word, the woman took the documents. Her gaze quickly skimmed the lines, lips pulling into a grim line at the child's name, and then lingered on the Hokage's stamp. She looked up, staring into Kakashi's face, before finally stepping back with a quiet, "Follow me."

Kakashi followed her inside.

The orphanage was dark and gloomy. Crude paintings on the walls depicted weirdly shaped humans and even weirder looking monsters they fought against. Kakashi quickly shifted his eyes from the creature with nine tails baring its teeth at the blond figure.

"Naruto Uzumaki is a violent child," the woman spoke finally. The jounin assumed that she was the head matron, Mieko Sakai. "He's unruly, belligerent, and disrespectful to both adults and other children. Completely uncontrollable." She stopped in front of the closed door and pinned the grey-haired ninja with her steely eyes. "There are other kids to choose from."

"I'm not here to choose."

"I see."

Pity was so prominent in her expression, Kakashi smoothed his bristling hackles down. He wondered why she was more worried over him and not a six-year-old being taken in by an active ninja.

Mieko opened the door and poked her head in. A feminine voice drifted from the room, telling a story about a brave ninja. His heroic sweeping in to save a princess was followed by a bunch of gasps.

Kakashi braced himself. He had fully expected Naruto to walk out from behind this door, but it didn't happen. Instead, an old guy came out. A crooked nose and slanted narrow eyes gave him a rough appearance.

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