Puppies

Hatake Kakashi was confident that this didn't concern him. He was reasonably confident as the ANBU captain, not some regular jonin, he was above it all. Plus, he was a minor - he'd turn twenty in September. But he had been temporarily demoted for three weeks, a kind of unofficial vacation. This was the second time this year, and it was all because Tsunade-sama had asked him very persistently. She'd crushed a piece of the table into dust in her hand to drive the point home. Gai yelled out another call to the Youth's Power from the left. It was like a toast, and for the umpteenth time, they had to raise their glasses in a sloppy "Kanpai" due to the amount they'd drunk. They were celebrating Kurenai's completely unexpected promotion. Kurenai had never been considered a renowned beauty - not even in Kakashi's hazy memories from the Academy. But today, he clearly noticed that she was captivating everyone with her wild charisma. Genma and Asuma couldn't tear their piercing, possessive gazes away from her. Kurenai was the first kunoichi of their generation to become a jonin. In Kakashi's opinion, it was a bit premature. Konoha was shaking so hard that even the most meticulous administrative officer wouldn't bother with petty details. If it was getting to him - behind his impenetrable, porcelain fox mask - what about those who lived in the daylight, constantly simmering in the tension of the past four months? In just three days, Kakashi had lost the misty, smoky aura that had surrounded him since his sensei's death under the corrosive atmosphere of war anticipation. Sounds drew closer, muffled sensations took on an unhealthy brightness, and he felt uncomfortably exposed, like being completely naked among an armed, aggressive crowd. Trying to distance himself, Kakashi stared blankly at Jiraiya-san's book, attempting to disengage from... his comrades. They sat in the new sake bar building, near the central street. An expensive place, but far from the dead quarter. The Fall of the Uchiha Clan was a forbidden topic, a dark secret that everyone pretended didn't exist. No one dared to whisper its name, fearing that the mere mention of it would summon a horror beyond their wildest nightmares. The quiet, peaceful boy Itachi... The monster who had unleashed a bloodbath of unprecedented proportions, slaughtering over four hundred people in a matter of seconds, leaving behind a trail of mangled bodies and shattered lives. Kakashi was on duty that night, and the panicked message from the Barrier Team about the sudden disappearance of the chakra of all the residents in the quarter only elicited a mixture of confusion and amusement - some crazy experimenter must have come up with a new seal that neither they nor anyone else could replicate. But when a low, gravelly voice crackled over the radio, saying, "We've found a survivor on Tea Street," it sent a chill down his spine. By the time he arrived at the scene, it was too late for horror... Kakashi raised his hand to rub the inflamed eye of Obito. The Mangekyo. Itachi had gained control over time, while he, it seemed, had control over space, but using the easy, intuitive technique of Kamui required too much chakra. Only the fact that the eye was not his own had saved him from madness and Konoha from destruction. This image haunted his every nightmare, where he, driven mad by the raging, corrosive power of the Mangekyo, slaughtered every passerby, and they all, with bleeding holes from the Chidori, slipped from his grasp and fell, transforming into the small, fragile corpse of Rin. The Uchiha Incident was never spoken of, but it hung like a heavy, oppressive horror over everyone who could grasp the situation. Then, completely unexpectedly and at the worst possible time, the Third passed away, and Tsunade-sama returned to the village, inheriting the title of Hokage. Kakashi was part of her security detail on Wednesdays and saw how she, buried under a mountain of urgent tasks and problems, attacked all the unresolved projects with a fierce, unbridled fury. The administrators groaned, the staff officers scurried about, the department heads changed, the hospital was overhauled, and the rampant illiteracy among the personnel was eradicated at a frantic pace. War with Kumogakure, which had opened its bottomless, greedy maw on the Hyuga clan, was looming. Godaime did everything to extricate herself from the hopeless situation, but "I'm not a politician, damn it, Shikaku! It's easier for me to come and explain to Ei that if he doesn't curb his appetites, I'll take matters into my own hands! We simply don't have enough shinobi!" The Academy was preparing for the largest graduation in its history. Not in terms of numbers - during the interwar period between the First and Second Great Ninja Wars, Konoha had calmly produced around fifty shinobi annually, allowing half of them to receive a full, ten-year education. Such luxury had been abandoned even before his birth. Later, a mandatory six-year education was somehow maintained, except for rare geniuses. By the end of the Third Great Ninja War, it was considered normal to complete the basic course in three years, and in March, they would graduate anyone who could hold a kunai in their hands. Hatake Kakashi was convinced that this didn't concern him. He was reasonably certain - he was an ANBU captain, not a regular jonin, and besides, he was still underage, not turning twenty until September. But the nagging, intuitive itch in the back of his mind, the one that had saved the lives of hundreds of ninjas, whispered: "Run, Kakashi, run. Request a solo, long-term mission anywhere, but get out of Leaf Village for the next two weeks. You won't be spared - before the last Uchiha and the Kyuubi jinchuriki fall into your hands (since there's no one else, remember?), they'll saddle you with some team to train. Take a three-to-four-year mission, and maybe they'll hand it over to someone else." "How can we avoid getting some weirdos in our training team?" someone voiced his thoughts aloud. "You've exaggerated a bit, of course," Kurenai smiled sadly, "just make sure you're not sent to the front lines in a month." Asuma noisily stood up, turned his back to the open entrance, blocked the rare sunlight with his broad-shouldered shadow, and lit a cigarette. The bartender nervously tapped his fingers on the wooden counter, craning his neck to look out onto the street. They wouldn't be in trouble if the adults saw the alcohol - they would be scolded, reminded that buying drinks for minors was forbidden, but that unfortunate old uncle would have to pay hefty fines. The Military Police preferred to crack down on all violations at once, rather than chasing each individual case. Kakashi almost choked, releasing all the air from his lungs - it was amazing how flexible the human psyche was. If he wouldn't imagine the stern Fugaku-san issuing a warning to the bartender, he wouldn't have found anything absurd in his own thoughts.