Moon Devourer

Bringing About Beginnings

Hatake Kakashi, gennin at five, son of the disgraced Fang, screamed as his mind was assaulted with memories thirty years long.

Colorful, bloody, monotone, everything just grabbed his very being and forced itself into him.

It hurt, it hurt like billions of needles, it hurt like having to hear the whispering hatred outside again.

It hurt as much as seeing Tou-san fade with every whisper and jibe.

Then, silently yet quickly, a hand patted his head, and whispered, "thank you."

The pain faded, into a sort of euphoria as a campfire, so warm, warmer than the sun appeared in front of him.

He walked.

He had a feeling, that his... duty was done, as a nin, as Kakashi.

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Hatake Kakashi, gennin at five, son of the disgraced Fang, opened his eyes.

Fog gray greeted the familiar straw mats and doors of the Hatake Compound, and whispered, hello, I'm back, and thank you for having me again.

The compound was silent. The bitter chill of winter lingered, yet he could smell the soft nectar blossoming from the flowers outside.

It was the start of spring. The start of a new beginning.

Tugging at his mask, he took to pulling it off.

No use wearing it at the compound, the Hatakes always had the habit to decorate the compound with flowers that didn't have heavy scents.

It lingered after the incident, when he moved out.

He looked around, blinking to see that it was the entrance to the house.

The door was slightly ajar, his shoes were on the floor mat, and the groceries were in a plastic bag. The trash was settled near the door as well, ready to be taken out.

Everything seemed untouched.

That was when the unease that was creeping in latched onto his shoulders and blew his vision wide open.

His eyes were scanning over every minute detail, the tiny divots and rises in the mat, the way that he could feel and smell the scent of his father and the little specks of dirt and drips of rain sliding off the roof.

It felt like nothing was wrong.

He sniffed at the air.

Nothing was wrong, just spring, water, and the trash.

He opened the door, his footsteps light, and breath tense.

Why was he so tense? This... wasn't like him, at all.

But it felt like the world around was holding its breath, the birds weren't chirping, the flowers seemed stuck in buds and the wind had stilled.

The sound arround had dulled into a bare whisper and it was not normal by any means.

Yet everything in the Hatake compound were like the sound of bells ringing in his ears, the creak of the wood as he stepped on them, the whistling of the breeze that had left a trail behind its wake, the faint rustling of the cloth that shaded the compound during the summer heat.

The panic grew, he could taste the feeling of wrong-wrong-wrong with just the tip of his tongue, and his shakily breathed in.

What was going on?

But he could feel it, the thought that ran through his head, what time is it? What year it is?

Where is Tou-san?