The Brightfield of the Scarecrow (Sakumo Hatake x Naruto)

Chapter Two: Chibi

First I concluded it strange, then, almost impossible. True of all the foes I've faced in my short -and tedious- twenty-eight years were different persons with undisclosed lives -usually- and untold struggles. An ally was an entirely dissimilar matter. With an enemy, if the foe was peculiar to the normality your best bet at life was to kill on sight. Comrades, you couldn't murder them if they put you at illease -though there are some people in the village capable of doing so.

The Uzumaki was odd, not his amnesia, for I couldn't say I'd known someone to have ever suffered from it. Merely in his actions. Unlike everyone I knew, he was simply too lively. Practically became luminescent with a glow of life, he smiled wider then most, had loser shoulders, gazed at everything with childlike wonder. I could only name it abnormal, as I've never seen such a disposition before. Not even from young children with long lives spread before them, my Kakashi laughed and smile though he reserved himself far more then most. Still Naruto seemed so much more indulgent then any kid I've met.

Although, most of my friend's/comrade's children were around Kakashi's age, and three years old was not a very good landscape for judgement.

I do consider that perhaps comparing an adult to children probably varied on some manner of rude. Moreso when I was practically calling him childish in the process. Though that certainly wasn't my intent! In fact it was actually rather cute when I compared it to some women I've seen doing similar when visiting the daycare center. The same manner of alluring as when I'd found myself intermingled with Kakashi's Mother. Naruto-kun did not appear to be of the same conduct as she however, far more intrigued by general curious nature, with a simplistic side of pure trust that not even kids indulged in these days. Memory lost or not, it would seem I am having trouble believing he had lived at all in this war-torn time.

It simply made no sense, to have someone so carefree trained for combat. I peered at his face: he had a heart shaped facial structure, wide set beautiful blue eyes, and smooth warm tanned skin, exotic wisker like markings, glowing golden hair... Were it not for how short it was cut, and the flatness of his chest I could be easily fooled into thinking him a woman. Then again, perhaps I was only making assumptions and he was in fact, a she. For now, until I actually had the balls to ask outright I'd only use genderneutral terms, I didn't want to accidentally offend Naruto-kun was actually a kunoichi. Nonetheless, as embarrassing as it was to consider, they are very... exotic, beautiful even. So perhaps they are a part of the Seduction Division? It would at least account for their lack of memories, such a division did rely on secrecy. Perhaps something had gone wrong an infiltration mission where their target had found them out?

All I am thinking is pure speculation, far fetched as nothing is actually known.

"You have very beautiful hair." I didn't realize that I was even thinking that before it slipped out. How stupid sounding, it was something my son would've said in his blunt nature. Not a fully grown shinobi. To my surprise, however, their pride did not seem to be insulted and instead a large grin curved on their face. Honestly, one of the most genuine I have ever seen, brightened by sincerity.

"I don't know why, but that feels like the first time I've ever been told something like that." That couldn't be true, even if their inclination was right, I couldn't believe it to be. Not with such a luminous appearance.

I shook myself, we were close to the daycare now, and while it would normally feel disquieting to have a stranger in my house alongside my son, mentally it didn't seem to conflict with my paternal instincts. Objectively, I should always be a little wary, but with this Uzumaki, any ingrained paranoia was soothed by the conduct of their warm persona. Namely, if Kakashi was in danger, my mind was telling me that Naruto would not be the one responsible.