Ship: Sakumo Hatake x Orochimaru

Genres: Friendship – Family – Humor – Slice of Life / One-shot

Rating: +8

Summary: Orochimaru had other things to do – more urgent, more vital matters. And, in the end, he found himself admiring his stepson’s diabolical mind.

Enjoy!

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Leaning against the doorframe, Kakashi was tucking into a juicy slice of watermelon whilst surveying the vegetable patch.

His stepfather had other things on his mind as he walked past him, poring over his notes, before he noticed Kakashi and stopped, quickly trying to work out what could possibly be pulling his son away from his usual pastimes.

“Could it be… Obito-kun and Tenzō-kun?”

“None other than them.”

Suddenly far more interested, the Sannin slipped his scrolls into a sleeve and stopped beside the feignedly nonchalant chūnin.

Narrowing his eyes, he scrutinised whatever activity might be occupying his two former test subjects.

“What are they doing in the vegetable patch? Did your father give them permission?”

“Maa, what Dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him, will it?”

Despite the slice of watermelon and his half-neutral expression, Orochimaru had no doubt about the smirk he must be wearing. Not only had he known Kakashi since he was in nappies, having watched him grow up, but above all he knew exactly who Kakashi had picked up that habit from.

“You’ll have to deal with the consequences on your own,” he snorted.

“And here I was hoping I could count on your big heart,” he sighed theatrically.

“I don’t have a heart, for goodness’ sake.”

“Only because you gave it to Dad.”

Amused by his retort – it was so hard to find anyone worth talking to! – Orochimaru turned his attention back to the strange spectacle being put on by the two chūnin, who were still doing who-knows-what in the patch of dirt where his husband grew all manner of fruit and vegetables, channelling the affection he was unable to bestow upon his loved ones, having managed to surround himself with three cold and distant personalities.

No doubt the curse of sunny personalities. One only had to think back to little Obito-kun during his early years with Kashi…

The bark, stripped of its pink flesh, suddenly crossed his field of vision, striking a buttock and eliciting a shrill cry from its owner:

“FUCK!”

Obito – surely he was the only one who’d be so vocal over something so trivial – turned halfway round, raising a fist in the direction of his assailant, looking ready to hurl a barrage of his spiciest insults at him – a feat for which he was well known – but he chickened out just as quickly when he realised that not only was the assailant no longer alone, but he’d also lost track of who he was.

Wisely, he backed down and turned his back on them. However, he made no effort to hide the redness of his ears.

Beside him, Tenzō had straightened up, no doubt to observe the cause of the commotion, but had done nothing more, surely focused on whatever it was he was doing.

All four were perfectly aware of Kakashi’s skill when it came to hitting his target, so it was obvious to everyone that the destination of the crumbs from his snack had been deliberate.

For his part, Orochimaru was many things and competent in many others. However, accepting that a secret should remain a secret was a concept alien to him.

He needed to know everything, to understand everything, to try everything.

(It was, in fact, strangely in this way that he had not only found himself in White Fang’s bed then, later, with the ring on his finger. Even now, he wasn’t sure of the sequence of events leading up to those two occurrences. Not that he regretted it, mind you.)

His curiosity wasn’t just a bad habit; it would certainly be what brought about his death. The question was whether that would be in the field or in one of his laboratories.

(Sakumo nicknamed him his ‘mad scientist’. But he used such a tender tone that he couldn’t bring himself to object to the label. So he simply grumbled whilst the old wolf kissed him on the temple or stroked his hair, depending on his mood.)

Kakashi was the simplest solution to quench his thirst, except that he’d learnt cunning and cryptic phrases on his lap. He might as well have handed him the answer on a silver platter as given him a vague reply.

The two young men, on the other hand, would no doubt be delighted to take a break and answer him, far too naive despite all those years in the field.

However, they were out in the blazing sun, and his eldest adopted son was just an arm’s length away.

“And what are they doing in your father’s vegetable patch?” he pressed.

Admittedly, given his reptilian features, Orochimaru enjoyed basking in the sun, just as father and son enjoyed running about in the open air, but he didn’t have the scales to go with it. And there was no way he was going to turn up in front of Tsunade redder than a ripe tomato, thank you very much!

“They’re gardening.”

Sage, he’d brought up this child far too well… Was this what people called karma?

“Your father isn’t going to be pleased.”

“Dad should be delighted, on the contrary.”

Without his snack, his neighbour no longer even tried to hide his satisfied smile. He even allowed his eyes to show that spark of mischief which, this time, came from Sakumo.

Slowly, a general picture of the situation began to take shape in the scientist’s mind, but he couldn’t be sure of anything, given the scant information at his disposal.

“So, you’re trying to make me believe…”

“Nobody can try to make you believe anything,” he interrupted.

Amused by the categorical tone, he reached out and affectionately pinched her cheek.

He’d never been particularly fond of children, but raising Kakashi, and then Tenzō, and spending time with his few friends, had made him reconsider the matter.

Not that he’d admit it out loud, as much for the sake of his reputation as because he could well imagine his husband’s immediate reaction if he ever found out. Hokage or not, he’d be capable of turning up the very next day with a whole bunch of orphans, his eyes shining and an imaginary tail wagging like mad.

“So,” he rephrased. “I see that your boyfriend and your brother have their hands in your father’s vegetable patch. Do you agree with me?”

“Obito is not my boyfriend. But apart from that, that’s about right.”

He was the only one who hadn’t realised the feelings the young Uchiha had harboured for him ever since they were children. For him, love at first sight had been a little too literal: he’d been the unwitting target of Kakashi’s Raiton nature, and it seemed that was what had cemented the interest he’d held in his comrade ever since.

“So, what did you say to them to make them end up like this?”

“Me?”

Kakashi’s efforts to stifle his smile and maintain a neutral expression were enough to convey just how much he was going to love the trio’s latest daft idea. It was going to be utterly daft, just as they knew so well how to make it.

A bit like back in the days of his own team, but it was really only nostalgia that allowed him to romanticise those moments, erasing Jiraiya’s cringe-worthy jokes, Tsunade’s boisterous tantrums and the depression brought on by the successive deaths of his parents.

Despite his best efforts, the chūnin still looked slightly amused as he turned to him with the most innocent expression he could muster.

“And why on earth are they doing that?” his stepfather asked once more.

“It could be…”

Leaning more heavily against the doorframe, crossing his arms and legs, Kakashi seemed to be savouring what he was about to say, encouraging him to follow suit.

Had he ever told him just how much he appreciated his stepson? Scientist though he was, he nonetheless appreciated an agent of chaos, provided he was clever enough to remain subtle and not get caught.

Qualities that his eldest son had carefully cultivated.

Others, less refined, were content simply to say that Kakashi was a bloody troll.

“It could be,” he repeated, “that Obito proclaimed – in his usual manner – that he was the best user of Mokuton. Naturally, Tenzō protested. Well, in his own way; you know him.”

In other words, the young Uchiha had bellowed his declaration in bad faith, deafening the whole neighbourhood, whilst his other adopted son fixed him with a cold, disapproving stare.

The… voluble personality of their future son-in-law had come as a shock to their family of quiet types – however bright and cheerful Sakumo might be, he was still more a man of action than of words – but all five of them had learnt to adapt, and the sudden outbursts had lessened over time. Yet they still occurred.

Orochimaru spared a thought for his youngest son, who was the one least able to tolerate his brother’s suitor’s boisterous temperament.

(However, he was perfectly aware that his son didn’t take things lying down and always managed to find a way to give as good as he got. He was also very proud of him.)

“And, of course, you didn’t intervene at all.

“Why on earth would I have? It’s none of my business!

Once again, his innocent expression was undermined by the amused twinkle in his grey eyes.

“Perhaps—and I do mean ‘perhaps’—I advised them to prove themselves.”

“And what better place than your father’s vegetable patch?” Orochimaru scoffed.

“He of all people, who’s been complaining for years about his summer spinach…”

Unaware of the whispered remarks, the two competitors (one of whom was still wondering why he was there and, above all, why he wasn’t leaving) were channelling their chakra to support the poor plant that the owner of the place stubbornly insisted on growing, year after year, amidst his family’s indifference.

They were so absorbed in their task that neither of them had yet realised that no objective, reward – or penalty – had been set.

But, with a bit of luck, Kakashi might leave them a few slices of watermelon…