Summary: Hatake Kakashi is born with a pale specter looming over him like a particularly intrigued portent of upheaval. He is three when his father finds him conversing with the vacant air next to a shaken Orochimaru, hair swaying in a breeze that does not exist. It is not until he is eight that the changes are felt rippling their way across the Elemental Nations' still, stagnant waters of fate.

Story Warnings: Canon-typical violence, foul language, NOT A FIX-IT, ghosts, canon divergences like whoa.

Pairings: Gen.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its related content.

A/N: Been adding bits and pieces to this drabble fic over the course of a year, and though it's not done, I really, REALLY wanted to post it during October. I have the first fifteen chapters either done or 100% planned out (GASP) so I'll be trying to post a chapter every day or two for the next few weeks. Updates after that will either slow to a crawl or continue in a similar fashion; I'm thinking of working on this for NaNoWriMo, but haven't made a final decision as of yet. "But Reprise, don't you need to work on the eye of a storm?" …Anyway, we'll see how things go.

Chapter 1
Kazuki — The Littlest Scarecrow

Hatake Kakashi was born on a miserable Thursday morning in the bustling medical tent of a Konoha outpost, crying softly and with far more decorum than any newborn baby had a right to possess. He did not scream, as most babies are wont to do, but nobody in the outpost was particularly concerned with this; there was more than enough screaming coming from outside the tent, where Suna and Konoha shinobi could be found slaughtering each other indiscriminately.

"My sweet baby," his mother crooned at him, even as she attempted to foist him off on a nearby medic so she could go join in the bloodshed. "You'll look just like your father, I can tell."

She was not wrong, though how she could have already known such a thing is a mystery nobody ever solved. The medic grunted noncommittally and forced her back into bed. She ignored them.

The fading, semi-transparent specter standing behind her nodded in agreement, his long silver hair falling into his face as he did so.

"Yes, yes, the Hatake genes are as strong as ever," he said mildly, reaching out to pat the child's tiny hands, and Kakashi's soft cries tapered off as he looked to the man in wonder.

To all of the other occupants of the room, it appeared as if his mother had somehow quieted him with her words. They all cooed and babbled at him, in response, remarked upon how he already recognized his mother, how lucky she was to have such a cute and clever little baby. She shied away from the attention, for the most part, before giving Kakashi a small, pleased little smile. She would then tell her husband, hours later, all about how their little boy already knew his mama, and Hatake Sakumo would laugh joyfully in response. Kakashi would look at his parents in bleary, innocent, infantile confusion, and they would simply continue their cooing and gushing until he dozed off in his father's arms.

To the spirit of Hatake Kazuki, meanwhile, it had become abundantly clear that his great-grandson just heard him speak, saw him move, and felt him touch. Said great-grandson was also apparently entranced with his presence, if the way his underdeveloped eyes attempted to seek out his figure was any indication. Kazuki blinked a few times in mystified shock, unbelieving that such a thing had occurred, before laughing boisterously.

"Well, now," he said jovially, staring down at the baby with pride sparkling in his eyes. "It looks like my legacy hasn't died out just yet."

He crouched down low, poking an intangible finger through the child's chest and pressing icy lips to his forehead.

"Use it well, little scarecrow."

Hatake Kazuki gave one last smile at the newest addition to his family, and then promptly dissolved in a small explosion of light and chakra.

Little Hatake Kakashi, who up until then had seemed to possess more decorum than any newborn baby had a right to, burst into loud, wailing tears, shocking everybody in the outpost tent enough to send both senbon and kunai flying.

It was merely the first of many such instances.