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Minato Namikaze sat at his desk, his eyes scanning through the minutes from the last council meeting, when the unmistakable sound of something shattering rang out. Minato’s head snapped up. A teapot and cup that had sat on the corner of his desk lay in pieces on the floor.
“Apologies, Lord Fourth. I didn’t see the chinaware there,” Egawa Souta, his ANBU commander, glanced over to Lizard. “Please clean this up and get the Hokage a fresh pot of tea.”
Minato waved the apology away. “I understand.”
Souta was ensuring that the tea would be prepared by someone he trusted. The man was paranoid ever since Minato had been poisoned by his evening dessert two weeks ago. The poison, a scorpion venom from Suna, had been potent but not strong enough to kill a person, which made more alarming the source of the antidote: Shimura Danzo.
The antidote wasn’t an act of goodwill; it was an assertion of power, wrapped in the guise of benevolence. The real message through the thin veil of civility was plain and clear. Danzo was always watching, and he wasn’t above using any means to get what he wanted.
“Sir, you’ll want to see this,” Souta’s voice cut through the quiet, drawing Minato’s attention away from his troubling thoughts. The ANBU commander handed him a stack of reports—six documents, neatly folded and sealed.
Six shinobi killed in action. The number alone was unsettling—so many in one week, especially during a time of supposed peace. But as Minato read on, his suspicion quickly gave way to certainty.
Four of those names were of shinobi Minato had planted into ROOT and all of them were killed in action on the same day. It wasn’t a coincidence. It wasn’t even a threat. This was an attack.
Minato tapped the reports against his desk as he considered his next move.
——
“I need you to get to… the root of a certain problem, so to speak,” Minato said to Kakashi one night after dinner. “I have reason to believe Shimura Danzo will try to remove me as Hokage before this winter,” Sensing the question of what else was new from Kakashi’s raised eyebrow, Minato added, “Permenantly.”
An angry jolt of blue-white lightning flickered across Kakashi’s skin—like an electric porcupine, Minato mused. His student growled, “That’s a lot of words to say assassinate, sensei. How confident are you of that timeline?”
“Fairly. The four ANBU operatives I’ve sent to ROOT in the past two years were all killed in the past week. He’s building up to something, and the winter, when trades and missions slow down would be the best time to make a move, political or otherwise," Minato leaned back against the bookshelf, his hands loose in his lap. Safe in his own home, with both Naruto and Kakashi in sight, he let himself breathe a little easier. Here, at least, he could let his guard down, even if just for a moment. He met Kakashi’s gaze and admitted, “But to be honest, Kasshi, there’s nothing I can do.”
It was almost a relief to hear the words said outloud. Minato continued, “I may have the Third’s support, but Shimura Danzo has Hiruzen-sama’s friendship. Those bonds run deep, and I can’t accuse him without something concrete or else I’ll come off as paranoid. Like he’s been accusing me all along.”
Kakashi, as always, was quick on the uptake. “You need proof. And you want me to go get it."
Minato nodded, “It won’t be easy. ROOT doesn’t take kindly to outsiders, especially those with connections to me. They’ll likely be reporting everything they see you do or say back to Danzo.
“We’ll have to make it believable,” Minato continued quieter. “You’ll have to make it believable. I can start rumors of a fallout between us, but you’ll have to disappear into ROOT to really sell it. If Danzo is willing to believe there’s a rift between you and me, he’s also more likely to keep you alive to see if he can use it. That’s what I’d do if I were in his shoes,” Minato smiled ruefully. “Think you’re up for it?”
Kakashi didn’t answer immediately, his face unreadable. For a moment, the two of them fell into silence, before the teen glanced over to the corner where Naruto was enthusiastically drawing a giant toad and a giant dog soaring over a rainbow in his sketchbook.
It was easy to guess where his student’s thoughts were heading. If Kakashi accepted this mission, there could be no more evenings like this. And considering what happened to those who tried to infiltrate ROOT, there would only be two outcomes: death or success.
“I’ll do it, sensei. For gold and glory,” Kakashi finally said with a quiet laugh. It was the oldest joke in ANBU for why people joined—money they’d likely die before getting to use, and the honor of fighting, dying and being forgotten under a veil of secrecy.
——
(Later, Souta would accuse him, you knew he would never tell you no.
And Minato would answer, so? )
——
Starting the rumors of a fallout between himself and Kakashi was easy: One morning, Minato ordered Souta to remove Kakashi’s entry privileges to the Hokage’s office.
For a fraction of a second, Souta paused. His brows furrowed, eyes darting to Minato before he moved on to the next order of business. It was a response that lasted less than a span of a heartbeat, but Minato felt the ANBU’s attention sharpen. The way Souta instinctively tried to mask his surprise ironically attracted the attention of everyone in the room.
After that, it was easier. The silence grew thoughtful whenever Minato grew more irritable, ruling over council meetings with a steel fist and cold smile, or during the uncomfortable pauses when someone asked after Kakashi’s absence. Minato being irritable wasn’t an act either - Naruto had been inconsolable since he was told that Kakashi would no longer be coming over. The three year old didn’t have the words to express his confusion or sadness so he threw tantrums, refused to eat, and cried relentlessly at night intead.
The rumors would continue to spread, fed by those kinds of small but telling moments and soon enough, the fallout between Minato and Kakashi would solidify as fact.
——
It took exactly three days for Souta to show up at Minato’s doorstep, carrying a bottle of expensive sake wrapped in silk. The sake had come from a guest visiting his family’s onsen from the Land of Bear, given to his twin brother as a token of appreciation. Minato eyed the bottle with the slight suspicion that always came with gifts of this caliber.
Souta seemed satisfied to talk shop, discussing village politics, new recruits, recent ANBU missions, the such. But two hours in, when Minato was feeling the pleasant warmth of the alcohol against the cool night breeze, Souta struck.
"Whatever you did, you should apologize, Minato," Souta said. It was a rare moment where the ANBU commander spoke so plainly. “You’re sulking, and it’s bad for morale."
Minato shot him a betrayed look. Souta was the best infiltration specialist Koniha had—Minato should have known better than to let his guard down.
"I’m not sulking," Minato replied, his tone dry as he poured himself another generous cup. He avoided Souta’s gaze, instead focusing on the clear liquid in his cup, turning it slightly in his hands. "And stop talking like he and I had some lover’s spat. He’s my shinobi. There’s nothing for me to apologize about."
“Sure. That’s why you learned to make miso eggplant soup when you broke his tanto all those years ago. Because he’s your shinobi and you don’t need to apologize.”
Minato winced at the reminder. It wasn’t just any tanto; Minato had broken the Hatake tanto. The weight of that moment, the sharp crack as it shattered in the heat of their spar, and Kakashi’s face when he realized what happened, still stung. “He used to be my student. We were on good terms. Now, we’re not. There is nothing more to it, Souta. Teachers and students drift away all the time.”
Souta studied Minato for a long moment. Then, with deliberate slowness, he set his drink down on the table, the soft clink of the cup against the wood suddenly sharp in the quiet night.
“Minato,” Souta said, his dark green eyes solemn. “I meet with my teacher once a year on his birthday, and we get dinner together. I’ll say hi to my teammates in passing, and we’ll go for a drink when we can. That’s being on good terms.
"You dine with Kakashi amost every week. You have a farce of a guestroom that’s his in everything but name. Naruto probably hasn’t even realized yet he’s not blood related to his ‘Kaka-ni.’ You don’t just drift away from that. What happened?”
Minato’s throat tightened. He had told Kakashi to make it believeable. Asked that Kakashi risk life and limb to sell a story of a fallout for the chance of an opportunity.
Now, sitting in the Hokage patio without privacy seals where he knew his ANBU guard were listening, here was the chance for Minato to do the same.
“I had to reassign him to ROOT,” Minato said quietly, his voice catching. Aware that the air around them grew unnaturally still, Minato continued, casting the final bait. “I tried, but I couldn’t forgive him.”
——
Life without Kakashi flitting in and out of the Hokage Tower went on. It took the form of approving requisition requests, adjusting budgets, reading reports, and occasionally thwarting subtle assassination attempts by ROOT.
This particular morning, it also involved sabotaging Mist’s export roads, and uncovering a plot to poison the daimyo.
Pleased with himself, Minato was conducting his usual rounds in the tower, checking on the various departments to speak with the desk shinobi, while he headed in the general direction of the mission desk. As he rounded the corner, his eyes landed on a familiar figure.
Kakashi was standing at the desk, rolling open a mission scroll, his usual cloth mask in place and his expression unreadable. He had lost weight, and stood like all veteran shinobi did, light on their feet and back to the wall.
Minato froze. Kakashi, on the other hand, reacted immediately. Without hesitation, he straightened, saluting Minato with a crisp, formal motion. “Hokage-sama.”
Minato blinked, momentarily thrown off by the gesture. It was strange to hear Kakashi call him that without an ANBU mask or sarcasm.
“Kakashi,” Minato said, his voice quieter than he intended. He cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Sir,” Kakashi said, holding the salute. Minato could feel the stares around him as the people tried not to stare at their overly formal interaction. “I figured I could use the extra cash.”
Minato knew for a fact that Kakashi could retire tomorrow and be fine. The teen had inherited the White Fang’s mission savings, was jounin since eleven and got ANBU hazard pay since twelve. Kakashi had likely timed this as a check in.
“How have you been?”
“Fine, sir.”
Minato nodded, feeling the awkwardness of the exchange hang in the air, thick and almost suffocating.
“I saw Team Choza at Ichiraku earlier this week,” he said, offering a smile that felt too forced. “They asked after you.”
Kakashi’s reply was crisp, perfectly professional, and made it clear that the conversation was over. “I wouldn’t know, sir. I just got back from a mission.”
The correct counter-sign to whether Kakashi was keeping in touch with friends was no. All was good.
Minato nodded and dismissed Kakashi, who left without a second glance.
——
The rumors grew wilder with each passing day. First, it was that Minato and Kakashi had always despised each other, and this was just the inevitable outcome. Then it morphed into stories that Kakashi had come onto Minato and been rejected, or that they were already together, and Kakashi had cheated on Minato. Others insisted Kakashi had lost his mind and attacked Naruto.
Still, the wildest rumors remained contained within ANBU, and outside the ears of the general shinobi circles. To Minato, that was proof more than anything that the ANBU believed it. They were willing to gossip amongst themselves, but the rumours involved their own and the Hokage. And while the reason was unclear, the fallout itself was confirmed by the Hokage’s own guards. Thus, ANBU closed ranks.
And if the ANBU really believed it - it was the most they could do to convince Danzo.
That evening, Minato invited Souta for dinner and told the ANBU commander the truth. Souta, overly formal in public and deceptively stone-faced in the face of everything, told Minato how he felt about that by hurling a chakra-infused spoon at Minato's face.
——
On a bright sunny day, four months since Kakashi went to ROOT, he was almost killed on a mission.
The news came early, in a terse message from the hospital with the kind of gravity that made Minato’s stomach drop. Kakashi was alive but barely. He was brought back by a fellow ROOT agent, who shockingly defied orders to save him.
Minato, still listed as Kakashi’s only next of kin, was provided updates. The medics warned him to prepare himself—the prognosis was grim. The blood loss is too severe. Chakra exhaustion is too severe. What would the Hokage like to do with the sharingan? The question hung in the air, almost cruel in its clinical bluntness.
Through Souta, Minato provided Dr. Kouji with the seals that Kushina had left behind as part of her secret project. She had wanted to write something that would let Kakashi deactivate the sharingan as needed. The furthest she had gotten was a seal that siphoned off some chakra for the sharingan, and fed it back into itself while remaining disconnected from the rest of the body. It wasn’t ready to be used in the field, but if Kakashi was already suffering such severe chakra exhaustion, the seal would buy the medics valuable time by reducing the strain on Kakashi’s chakra system.
It turned out Kushina’s seal was effective —too effective: Kakashi apparently ripped off the seal in panic, thinking he lost the sharingan, and nearly died a second time.
Minato still didn’t visit. There was a cover they had to maintain and Minato had already had to make his peace with the possibility of Kakashi’s death that night in the Hokage Mansion when they said goodbye.
——
"Daddy… what does 'for gold’n glory' mean?”
Minato, who had been lathering Naruto’s head with shampoo, froze for a moment. The question was simple but it struck him harder than he expected. He recognized the phrase and knew where Naruto must have heard it. The thought made his heart tighten.
"For gold and glory?" Minato asked softly, trying to steady his voice. "Where did you hear that?"
Naruto shook his head, twisting around to grip the edge of Minato’s shirt. "Not gold an' glory, Daddy. ‘For gold’n glory.’ That’s what Kaka-ni-chan told me."
On their last evening together, before Kakashi left, the teen had bent down to press a kiss into Naruto’s messy hair and whisper something. Minato had watched the rare display of affection from the teen at a respectful distance and now, Minato exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he steadied himself against the rush of emotion that came with the realization.
"‘For golden glory,’" Minato repeated softly, his fingers gently carding through Naruto's sun-kissed hair. He smiled down at his son, a bittersweet warmth flooding his chest. “It means, ‘I’m doing this for you.’”
——
One evening, Souta appeared at Minato’s doorstep, his expression grim. Minato didn’t need an explanation—he activated the privacy seals without a word.
Souta wasted no time. Dr. Kouji had raised concerns, Souta said. Kakashi had fresh wounds despite being on medical leave, disassociated mid-conversation, showed persistent lethargy, and displayed a growing disinterest in treatment. ANBU had reported troubling behavior as well—talking to empty air, attacking a fellow ANBU in the canteen, standing down from the edge of Hokage Mountain for too long, as if contemplating the jump. Each piece of information more damning than the last.
“You need to pull him out. Something is wrong with Kakashi,” Souta argued. “ROOT is killing him. You’re killing him.”
But Minato couldn’t back down. They had come so far—too far to turn back. Kakashi had always been willing to sacrifice everything for the mission, and Minato had to trust that this, too, was part of some larger plan. If there was anyone who could handle it, it was Kakashi.
“Hatake Kakashi stays in ROOT,” Minato said flatly. He wasn’t Hokage to indulge in sentiment. Not when the stakes were so high. “ My decision is final.”
The ANBU commander in Souta understood. He accepted it with a tight jaw and a curt nod.
But Egawa Souta—the man who had called Kakashi shrimp since the first day they met when Kakashi was barely a chuunin—stepped forward in challenge, his fists clenched at his sides.
“You can’t face the possibility that something went wrong,” Souta snapped. “That he isn’t perfect. That he won’t deliver. That he failed.” His voice rose, sharp with anger. “Every damn time, you ask him for miracles. Every single time, you push him to the brink, and he kills himself trying to meet those impossible standards. And even now, after everything I just told you, you still can’t imagine the possibility that he failed you!”
Minato looked at Souta and answered, “So?”
——
Namikaze Minato’s greatest weakness was that he had been a genius from the moment he was born. Walking, talking even sealing—widely regarded as the most complex and finicky of the shinobi arts—came naturally to him. He never really knew what it was like to struggle to learn.
It was, perhaps, a tragedy in disguise that Kakashi, a genius even greater than Minato, became his first student. Kakashi, who could use his second nature before he turned jounin, and learned new jutsu with a handful of demonstrations even before he had the sharingan.
Kakashi was like Minato—brilliant, isolated, self-sufficient. And because of that, Minato relied on him in a way he relied on no one else. He trusted Kakashi like he trusted himself.
But in doing so, Minato never learned to see beyond the perspective of genius. He never understood what it meant to struggle with learning, never realized that not everyone could—or should—be held to the same impossible expectations he placed on himself. His perception of what a teacher-student relationship should be, what normal shinobi were like, was skewed. It would take years to unlearn and by then, it would be far too late.
It was, perhaps, not a coincidence that Minato lost two students before they turned jounin.
——
Despite his quick dismissal of them, Souta's words gnawed at Minato. The ANBU commander was someone who didn’t scare easily, who never panicked, and cared for Kakashi. If Souta was concerned, Minato couldn’t afford to completely ignore it.
So, Minato decided to make a quiet visit to the memorial stone at dawn. It was the anniversary of Rin’s death, and Minato knew Kakashi would come to pay his respects.
It had been over a month since their last check in and Minato had to fight to keep his shock hidden when he spotted Kakashi. His student had always been lean—prioritizing speed and skill over raw power—but now, he looked gaunt. His face was hollow, his posture off, as though he was struggling to stand straight.
“Lord Fourth,” Kakashi greeted him but it was different from before. There wasn’t the cold professionalism Kakashi had showed him by the mission desk.
Minato’s grip on the bouquet of flowers tightened. “You’ve been keeping to yourself lately.”
Kakashi gave a shrug, his eyes distant, staring off as though seeing something far beyond the memorial. Like his thoughts were a million miles away.
Dread in the back of Minato’s mind began to build. He tried again, “How have you been? Have you kept up with friends at all?”
This time, Kakashi reacted, but not in the way Minato had hoped. He recoiled slightly, as though the question itself had struck a nerve. There was something in his eyes—something sharp, painful, almost… hurt?
The siren song in Minato’s head grew louder. Say no, or say Gai, Minato thought tersely. Say something, Kasshi. Say anything.
Instead, Kakashi gasped sharply, his body stiffening as if struck by a sudden, invisible force. He winced, a flash of pain crossing his face, his fingers digging into his temples.
Minato’s heart skipped a beat. “Kakashi?”
Kakashi’s only response was a strangled groan, as if the pain had completely drowned out his ability to speak. He dropped to the ground and gasped in shallow breaths. His knuckles were turning white, as though he was trying to physically contain the pain in his head.
——
Souta had been wrong to accuse Minato of not considering the possibility that Kakashi could fail. Minato trusted Kakashi beyond reason—he believed that Kakashi would succeed, that he would complete the mission and return with what Minato needed like he always did.
But Minato was too strategic to not consider his next moves if Kakashi did fail and die. It was why Minato didn’t promise to Naruto that Kakashi would come back.
What Minato hadn’t considered was the possibility that Kakashi might fail but live.
Kakashi didn’t provide the correct counter sign but he didn’t say Gai either—he wasn’t asking for extraction. And as long as Kakashi had the sharingan, Obito protected him from genjutsu. Then what was left?
As he watched Kakashi writhe in agony, Minato’s mind raced. He saw, for a fleeting moment, the horrific possibility: a Kakashi whose mind was broken and will bent to someone else’s command—a Kakashi controlled by Danzo.
A Kakashi that wasn’t Minato’s.
——
Minato flared his chakra and signaled to his guards: kill.
——
It was the sheer shock of the order that caused the delay, a split-second hesitation from the ANBU—just long enough for Kakashi to act. Though Kakashi wouldn’t have been briefed on this week’s codes, which were shared only among the Hokage guard, he must have sensed the danger. By the time the dust settled, Kakashi was already gone.
Minato wasn’t sure if he felt happy or sad about it.
——
So instead, Minato turned angry.
“Call the council,” Minato snapped, hiraishining straight into Souta’s office. “I’ll kill that old snake myself if I have to.”
Word of the emergency session spread quickly, and the council gathered in haste, spurred by the weight of the Hokage’s displeasure.
When Minato noticed that Danzo had chosen to ignore the summons, he ordered to his most trusted ANBU: Bring him to me alive. But any resistance, and lethal force is authorized.
And just like that, Minato was ready to declare war on Danzo and let the council decide whether they would stand with him or burn with the councilman when the reason for their meeting, one Hatake Kakashi hiraishined straight onto Minato’s desk, holding Shimura Danzo’s head.
——
“We call it the kotoamatsukami,” Fugaku finished.
Minato and Souta, who Minato had ordered to stay despite the Uchiha’s displeasure, stared at Fugaku.
“You’re suggesting Danzo used Uchiha Shisui’s mangekyo sharingan to put Kakashi under a genjutsu. Kakashi was seen by multiple medic nins for weeks now, how would they have missed it?” Minato demanded.
“The same way you missed it despite your familiarity with his chakra, Lord Fourth,” Fugaku replied, his tone icy but not unkind. “The same way Hatake didn’t realize it himself. The chakra disruption Danzo introduced would have been small and subtle, and planted deep in Hatake’s chakra coils—probably when his chakra was sealed.”
Souta, quiet up until now, spoke thoughtfully, “The best genjutsu is the simplest one.”
“Exactly,” Fugaku nodded, grim. “And once it takes hold, the kotoamatsukami is nearly impossible to break out of without outside intervention. Even activating the sharingan doesn’t dispel it. The kotoamatsukami doesn’t simply control the mind; it twists the very essence of a person’s will. It is an ability unparalleled.”
Minato’s gaze darkened. "And what are you suggesting, Fugaku? That I trust the Uchiha clan to handle this?”
“As much as you may dislike the idea, Lord Fourth, Hatake cannot be trusted while under its influence. If you want him back, truly back, the Uchiha are the only ones who can help. We know how to handle the kotoamatsukami.”
Minato clenched his jaw. He trusted Fugaku—he had trusted him more than any other Uchiha, particularly given the clan head’s willingness to share this dangerous secret. But there was too much history, too much bad blood between Kakashi and the Uchiha to risk his student in their hands.
“In the end, the kotoamatsukami is a genjutsu, correct?”
Fugaku nodded slowly. “Yes, it is.”
“Then disrupting his chakra should be enough to break him free of it. I could do it,” Minato pressed.
Fugaku and Souta exchanged a glance of disbelief, their shock palpable.
“Lord Fourth,” Souta tried. “If what Fugaku-dono says is true, Kakashi’s been under that genjutsu for weeks. Dispelling it without the proper care could kill him. The shock to his system would be too much,” Souta paused, searching Minato’s face before adding, “You could kill him.”
Souta was Konoha’s best infiltration expert, having specialized the unique combination of genjutsu and taijutsu. Minato trusted Souta’s judgement on this.
But Minato also read Hyuuga Kouji’s report on what happened when the doctor tried to check Kakashi’s chakra.
“If anyone else were to try, Kakashi will kill them,” Minato said quietly. “And I trust I don’t need to remind you how fast Kakashi can be when he tries. His aversion to people touching his chakra may be a defense mechanism of the genjutsu itself, but the fact remains any attempts to disrupt his chakra will likely make Kakashi violent,” Minato didn’t add that it would make the perfect excuse for the Uchiha to kill Kakashi in self-defense, but Minato saw comprehension flicker in Souta’s gaze. “As you pointed out already, I am familiar with his chakra and he is to mine. He won’t try to kill me. He won’t even try. Thank you Fugaku-san, but you are dismissed.”
——
Ignoring Souta’s protests, Minato found Kakashi exactly where Minato had left him—safe in the Hokage’s office, behind layers of seals so impenetrable that not even an ant could slip through. He was curled up on the couch, buried beneath Minato’s coat, his breathing slow and steady. With his hair mussed and his face slack in sleep, he looked impossibly young.
Minato barely had a moment to take it in before Kakashi startled awake. In an instant, he was on his feet, his body moving on pure instinct—but the motion was unsteady. He swayed, struggling to regain his balance.
The sight made something in Minato’s chest twist painfully. It also sent his mind racing.
If Kakashi was really under a genjutsu, so deeply engrained that it went unnoticed in his chakra for weeks, releasing him from it may kill him.
But if Fugaku’s theory was wrong and there was no genjutsu, Kakashi killed four Konoha shinobi in cold blood. There would be no escaping the consequences of that—exile, or more likely, execution. Worse still, one of those shinobi, Snake, had been acting under Minato’s own orders.
A puppet or a traitor, Minato thought grimly. And whichever it was, it would be by Minato’s hand. The thought left him cold, knowing that Danzo had, in some way, won.
“Kakashi,” Minato called out, stepping forward into the room. His voice was steady, though his chest felt tight, as if the words themselves were hard to push out. "It’s me."
Kakashi’s head jerked toward him, eyes wide with panic, but Minato was already there, gently placing his hands on Kakashi's shoulders to steady him. The moment his hands made contact, Kakashi flinched violently, but didn't pull away.
"Relax, Kasshi," Minato said quietly, wrestling his anger further down, knowing Kakashi in this state would only misunderstand it and think it was towards him. "I’m not here to hurt you."
Kakashi didn’t respond. His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, as though he was still trying to make sense of where he was. It didn’t seem like he was processing anything clearly except the panic at seeing Minato.
The best genjutsu was the simplest one. The academic in Minato wondered if the genjutsu had associated Minato to pain. It would be an elegant, terrifyingly effective way to distort reality. And if that were true, then it explained the way Kakashi had acted at the memorial stone and the way he was reacting to Minato now.
“Look at me,” Minato coaxed. Kakashi’s head tilted slightly, but his eyes kept darting around the room, unable—or unwilling—to settle on him, like someone caught in a fog Minato couldn’t yet see through.
Kakashi finally blinked, and then his gaze locked with Minato’s for the briefest of moments—long enough for Minato to see a flicker of recognition, of pain, of trust.
Just as quickly, it was gone.
Minato took a slow breath, pushing away the chaos of thoughts that threatened to drown him.
“Kasshi," he said again, gentler this time, "I’m going to help you. But I need you to trust me. Do you understand?"
He felt Kakashi shake beneath his hands.
“You don’t have to say anything," Minato whispered, his fingers gently tightening on Kakashi’s shoulders, pulling him closer. "Just hold on. I’m going to get you through this."
Minato was keenly aware of every hiraishin mark in his office, ready to hiraishin away on the off chance that Kakashi attacked on instinct and tried to maul him.
Carefully, Minato pushed his chakra into Kakashi, steady and deliberate. For a breathless moment, nothing happened.
Then Kakashi latched onto Minato’s chakra like a drowning man grasping a lifeline. There was no hesitation, no resistance—just raw, instinctive trust, the same unwavering faith Kakashi had in Minato when he was still a chuunin, Minato was still a jounin, and they were still fighting a war.
Minato felt a surge of hope. The teen, this far gone, still recognized him. Kakashi would let Minato search for a genjutsu. And if Minato could find it, he could save him.
So focused on that single thought, Minato almost missed when Kakashi spoke, his voice hoarse, cracked, “Sorry … sensei."
It took a moment for Minato to realize why Kakashi was apologizing.
——
For years after, Minato would have to remind himself that edo tensai was illegal for a reason. It wasn’t worth reincarnating Danzo just to kill him again.
——
Now that Minato was truly looking, he could feel it—the wrongness woven into Kakashi’s chakra. It clung like a film of oil over water, a slick, insidious taint against the stark bright white chakra of Kakashi. Foreign chakra, subtle yet undeniable.
Minato’s jaw tightened, as he braced himself. If he dispelled the genjutsu now, the sheer force of the backlash could kill Kakashi outright. But if he didn’t—if there was no better explanation for Kakashi’s actions—his student would be executed.
Minato’s chakra caught the edges of Danzo’s genjutsu. Fury burned hot in his chest. Kakashi closed his eyes, resigned.
Minato snarled, “Kai.”
The moment the genjutsu shattered, Kakashi’s knees buckled. The shock of it was too much for Kakashi, still under the strain of weeks of injury, to handle. He gasped, hyperventilating, his chakra flickering dangerously low, unstable, like a dying ember on the verge of extinguishing.
Minato reacted instinctively, pushing his chakra into Kakashi’s depleted system, feeding his drained coils as much as they would take. He caught Kakashi before he could collapse completely, hands gripping tight as he hauled Kakashi back to his feet. “Kakashi, breathe!”
Minato could feel the unsteady flicker of Kakashi’s chakra, the way it threatened to gutter out at any moment. Beneath his hands, Kakashi was all bone, felt so fragile and he wasn’t breathing.
An eternity passed. Or maybe a heartbeat.
Finally Kakashi sucked in a shuddering breath and looked at Minato. Really looked at him.
And to Minato’s eternal fucking relief, Kakashi choked out, “Gai.”
——
Minato refused to allow the Yamanaka or T&I near Kakashi. Not yet, he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Even Ibiki didn't dare press the issue.
Kakashi’s recovery, under Minato’s careful watch and the safety of the Hokage Mansion, was agonizingly slow. It wasn’t just the physical toll—Kakashi’s mind, twisted by the genjutsu for so long, was a labyrinth of confusion. Like most victims of long-term genjutsu, Kakashi would wake up in a panic, disoriented, unable to trust his senses, unsure if the world around him was real or another illusion.
Minato stayed with him, night after night, keeping watch, disrupting Kakashi's chakra to calm him when the panic attacks came.
Each time, in his confusion, Kakashi thought Minato was going to kill him but let it happen anyway.
Recovery was slow. Painfully slow, but Minato knew better than to push. He had to be patient. He couldn’t rush this.
——
"Edo tensai is still illegal," Souta told him flatly, finding Minato digging through scrolls in the forbidden archives.
——
One morning, Minato jolted awake, startled by the warm sunlight streaming into his eyes. He blinked, disoriented—he had slept through the night.
Panic surged through him as he turned over, only to freeze at the sight before him. Despite all his warnings, Naruto had somehow slipped into the room and the boy was curled up against Kakashi’s side, his small head resting on Kakashi’s stomach, fast asleep. Kakashi was curled protectively around Naruto, his breathing deep and steady.
It was the first night Kakashi slept through.
Another night after that, Minato woke to the warmth of Naruto pressed against him on one side and Kakashi on the other, their steady breaths filling the quiet room.
Another morning, he woke up to Pakkun drooling on his face. Blinking blearily, he found Kakashi nestled under his armpit, his face buried against Minato’s ribs with Naruto tucked against Kakashi’s chest. Kakashi was snoring.
Progress, Minato thought with a small smile. This was progress.
——
In the end, even the Hokage couldn’t hold back the tide forever. Once Kakashi was deemed well enough by Dr. Kouji who gave his reluctant approval, T&I wasted no time.
Interrogation was unavoidable given the circumstances and four dead Konoha shinobi. Procedure demanded impartiality, which meant Minato wasn’t allowed in the room. He understood the reasoning, but that didn’t stop the sharp flare of anger in his chest. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to snarl at the absurdity of it.
The standoff between him and Ibiki at the door of the Hokage Mansion might have lasted indefinitely if Kakashi hadn’t broken it himself.
“Geesh, sensei, please chill. I’ll be fine,” Kakashi muttered, rolling his eyes as he gave Minato a light shove, and Minato let himself be pushed back. Then, with a eye-smile that wasn’t as casual as the teen probably hoped, Kakashi added, “Ichiraku for dinner?”
Minato exhaled, his shoulders losing some of their tension. “Fine,” he conceded, leveling a look at Ibiki before smiling at Kakashi. “See you there at seven.”
It was a promise to Kakashi and a warning to T&I of when Minato expected Kakashi returned.
Then, because Minato couldn’t resist, he added, “But you’re buying.”
(Minato ended up buying.)
——
The truth that Yamanaka Inoue delivered was worse than what Minato expected.
Danzo had been stealing children, molding them into an army—nearly a hundred ROOT operatives, brainwashed into absolute obedience. The eye in his head had belonged to Uchiha Shisui, a chuunin thought to have been killed in action years ago. And, as confirmed by both Yamanaka Inoue and Hyuuga Kouji, Kakashi had been under a genjutsu so insidiously crafted that he hadn’t even realized it.
Minato tore himself away from the details of Kakashi’s interrogation (the words intentional sleep deprivation, and physical torture in the name of training caught his eye). Minato exhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay focused. “How are the Uchiha?”
Souta sighed, rubbing his temple. Like Minato, he was running on only a few hours of sleep. “Undecided. They’re fighting fiercely about it internally. They want Kakashi executed of course - what else is new - but Fugaku is doing an admirable job of standing firm on that front.”
“Your recommendation?”
“The Council saw Danzo with the sharingan so Kakashi’s justification in executing Danzo will hold even if it is kept under wraps. The real issue is the other four shinobi that Kakashi killed. You could justify it by publicly revealing ROOT’s existence and your orders for Kakashi to infiltrate it. But if you do that, then everything Danzo did—his experiments, his abducting children, his use of the mangekyo sharingan—will have to come to light as well.”
Minato’s gaze darkened in understanding.
Souta continued, his voice quieter now. “The Uchiha will likely want this buried. Between seeking justice for Uchiha Shisui and suppressing any knowledge of the mangekyo, I expect they’ll choose the latter. That means if you wanted to bury this report,” Souta said quietly. “You can.”
Minato’s frown deepened. “Why would I want to do that? The report reveals ROOT and the fact that Danzo had a sharingan. It eliminates my greatest political enemy in one stroke, along with anyone who supported him. I can prove Kakashi was in ROOT under my orders and Snake’s affiliation with ROOT. We can frame Kakashi’s actions as eliminating Danzo’s soldiers.”
Souta gave him a measured look. “Yes. It would solidify your moral and political high ground and dismantle any credibility Danzo’s followers had left.”
Minato waited, sensing more would follow. Souta sighed.
“Minato, what this report told me, and what it’s going to tell anyone else with half a brain who reads it, is that Kakashi was under a genjutsu, one so perfectly tailored to him that he didn’t even realize he was under one, a genjutsu so strong it’s feared by the Uchiha and Kakashi still killed the man who controlled it,” Souta stared at Minato. “Because the person standing at the end of Danzo’s sword was you.”
Silence settled between them.
Minato gritted his teeth in frustration. He understood Souta’s warning. Even with Danzo gone, there were still plenty of his enemies lying in wait, and they would twist Kakashi’s devotion against him. The village had once claimed Sakumo wasn’t loyal enough to the Will of Fire. Now, they would say Kakashi was too loyal to Minato.
“So if I let the report go through, I can get the perfect political ammunition against my enemies and clear Kakashi’s name, but make him a bigger target in the village to be ostracized even further. Or I can bury it, be accused of favoritism, and let the rumors paint him as a comrade-killer, but at least maintain status quo,” Minato laughed bitterly. “Some choice.”
“Sometimes,” Souta murmured, “It’s better when the truth stays vague. Let people talk, but never let them be sure. It’s the same reason you were careful with the rumors about your fallout with Kakashi, never confirming or denying anything, wasn’t it?”
Minato closed his eyes.
“Dr. Kouji has refused to clear Kakashi,” Souta added quietly. “He’s requesting that Kakashi be placed on suicide watch. Whatever Danzo did to him—whatever conditioning, whatever genjutsu—Kakashi is barely holding it together. The weight of killing his own comrades, no matter how justified, will be one difficult for him to overcome, especially considering Kakashi’s past. If all of Kakashi’s actions are brought out in the open, no matter how justified they are, his pain will become a public spectacle.
“That being said, I serve the Hokage,” Souta continued, more carefully now. “And it would be negligent of me not to point out that releasing this report benefits you. Ignoring whatever unfortunate implications there may be to Kakashi, it strengthens your standing, solidifies your authority, and makes it clear to the village that you command absolute loyalty from a shinobi of Kakashi’s caliber,” A pause, then:”I should also probably remind you that in the end, Kakashi is only one shinobi against the rest of Konoha.”
Minato’s grip crumpled the report as he considered Souta’s words. Understood that what Souta said made sense.
But a darker part of Minato reared its ugly head because Kakashi wasn’t just any shinobi to be sharpened and discarded at the village’s whim. He wasn’t theirs to command, or to yield. To break or to hurt.
He was Minato’s.
“Bury it,” Minato ordered in a voice he didn’t recognize. With a flick of his wrist, he flared his chakra, brilliant, gold and scorching like the desert sun—and, with cold eyes, watched the report burn.