Chapter 2:
The wind carried him.
Not fast—precise.
Kakashi moved across the broken rooftops without sound, guided by a thread of chakra so small it shouldn't have been noticeable at all. If not for the way his own storm chakra responded to it—tugging gently, like a current meeting another current—he might have missed it.
A newborn.
No.
A jinchūriki.
The building stood at the edge of the village, half-repaired, half-abandoned. Fresh wood patched over shattered walls, but no effort had been made to make it welcoming. It felt temporary. Disposable.
Kakashi landed on the roof and listened.
Crying.
Thin. Hoarse. Exhausted.
His jaw tightened.
Inside, the room was bare. One crib. One thin blanket. A single lamp burning low, its flame unsteady. The woman meant to watch the child—some overworked caretaker—was slumped in a chair, asleep from pure exhaustion.
And in the crib…
Naruto Uzumaki.
So small.
So angry.
Golden hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his face red from crying, fists clenched like he was already fighting the world. Chakra leaked from him in uneven pulses, wild and untrained, brushing against the seal on his stomach like waves against a dam.
Kakashi felt the Kyūbi.
It was quieter than he expected. Not raging. Not plotting.
Watching.
Kakashi crouched beside the crib. For the first time since waking up, his composure cracked.
Sensei… this is what you left behind.
Naruto's cries hitched as Kakashi's storm chakra instinctively softened, the pressure in the room evening out. The air stilled, cool and calm, like the moment after rain.
Naruto's eyes opened.
Bright blue.
Too aware.
They locked onto Kakashi's face.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Then Naruto reached out.
His tiny fingers grabbed Kakashi's glove with surprising strength.
The storm inside Kakashi's coils settled.
"…Yeah," Kakashi whispered. "I know."
The caretaker stirred. Kakashi straightened instantly, chakra folding inward like a storm collapsing into itself. By the time the woman blinked awake, the pressure was gone.
"W–who…?" she began.
"Kakashi Hatake," he said quietly, already pulling away from the crib. "ANBU. I was sent to check on the child."
A lie.
But not an unkind one.
The woman nodded immediately, relief flooding her face. "I—I haven't been given much instruction. They just said… just said to keep him alive."
Kakashi's eye hardened behind the mask.
"Someone will relieve you soon," he said. "Get some rest."
She hesitated. "You're… not afraid of him?"
Kakashi looked back at Naruto.
Naruto had stopped crying. He was staring, unblinking, as if memorizing Kakashi's outline.
"I've faced worse storms," Kakashi replied.
He turned to leave—
Naruto cried out again.
Not loud. Not panicked.
Protesting.
Kakashi stopped.
He sighed softly, reached into his pouch, and pulled out a small metal tag. Plain. Unmarked. He pressed it gently beneath the crib, where no one would notice.
A chakra marker.
Subtle.
Constant.
If anyone approached Naruto with killing intent, Kakashi would feel it.
He leaned close one last time.
"I can't stay," he murmured, voice low enough that only the seal—and the fox—might hear. "But you're not alone anymore."
Naruto's fingers loosened.
The Kyūbi's presence shifted.
Not friendly.
But… curious.
Kakashi straightened and vanished through the window, the air swirling faintly in his wake.
From the shadows across the street, a pair of eyes narrowed.
Danzo Shimura lowered his cane slightly.
"…Interesting," he muttered.
Above the village, the wind changed direction.
And somewhere in the dark, a child slept more peacefully than he should have.
The storm was watching.