The Case-Book of Kakashi Hatake

The Beginning {Part 1}

Watanabe has coerced me into writing down my first case for her portfolio. Though I have told her many times that none of these stories can be published due to the classified information about my ANBU career that they contain, she has been insistent. It was something about the importance of hobbies and the fact that in the future it might be safe for her to reach out to a publisher. Personally, I hope none of these ever see the light of day.

For all my supposed intellect, I still don't know how she talked me into doing this.

My first case happened three years before I met the persistent doctor. I had been honorably discharged from the ANBU services only a month earlier due to "completed service." Saying that their top assassin had had a mental breakdown and quit wouldn't fit on the paperwork so they sugarcoated things for the records.

I was sitting in the small, one room apartment that had been given to me upon my arrival in Konoha. Two hundred square feet to commemorate a decade of service. There was nothing but a wash closet, a bed, a small wood-burning stove, a desk, and a chair.

With a sigh, I ran my hand down my face, fingers catching on the scruff that I hadn't shaved away for the last two days as my hair hung longer than normal, almost brushing my shoulders and hanging over my eyes. My back was slouched, curling in on itself painfully as the muscles and tendons protested after years of stiff, military posture. But, the discomfort was strangely cathartic so I welcomed it wholeheartedly. I felt as if I deserved it. My other hand was slowly flipping a black piece of granite over and over as it rested in my palm. The constant motion and oils of my skin had polished it until it shone, the only bright thing in the dim room. It was the only thing that I had left of that day barring the sword on my desk and the scar on my face. I couldn't see the blade as it was sheathed, but I didn't need to have my eyes on it to know that it was cracked and broken; one jolt would be enough to turn it into shards of useless metal.

(I am adding this emotional detail as per Jin's insistence. She had sat me down with pale blue eyes blazing, just begging me to challenge her, as she launched into a rant about how adding these sorts of details is an essential step to writing, and that if I wrote it like an emotionless automaton, it would be better that I wrote nothing at all.)

I was sitting as such, pondering the meaningless life that I had lived thus far when there was a knock. This caused my eyes to lift from the blank spot of wall that had held my attention for the last hour, maybe longer, to stare pointedly at the door. I had no family and no friends; there should be no one to come calling. I never even left my apartment except to eat and had made no move to reintegrate into Konoha's society.

The knock sounded again. It was gentle yet persistent. It wasn't the knock of a disgruntled landlord or a former ANBU associate. It had a pleasing cadence and seemed to draw me up out of my seat like a snake being charmed from its basket.

I opened the door a crack and was surprised to see a woman about my age on the other side. She had black hair that framed a face set with crimson eyes. Her dress was thin and worn, the cream color inconsistent across its length and an apron of sorts sewn into the front. There was subtle dust residue along the hem, and her fingernails were well-manicured but with the ends darkened from dirt. Her right forearm was slightly more pronounced than her left, and there was a smudge of silver polish in the palm of her hand. She was a maid for one of the wealthier families of Konoha. I briefly wondered what she could be doing at my door. It's not like I needed help cleaning my closet of a home, and it's not like I could afford to pay her anything either.

I cleared my throat gently, "Can I help you?"

She smiled, "I just wanted to come by and introduce myself. My husband and I live in the unit next door, and we just noticed that this unit was being lived in again."