Author's Notes: I always thought Sakumo got a raw deal in the series and from that this 'what-if' idea began kicking around in my head. Even though this story will be cannon-divergent, if you're not familiar with Kakashi's backstory (especially concerning his father), I would recommend checking out the relevant manga/anime as there could be spoilers. Reviews, comments, and constructive criticisms are always welcomed. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters. They're property of Masashi Kishimoto.

Chapter 1

The day was cloudy and grey, threatening rain. Possibly snow if the sharp bite to the air was any indication. A cold, bitter wind blew fallen leaves across the ground of the Hidden Leaf cemetery. Black-clad shinobi were lined up, paying their respects to one of their fallen comrades. There were fewer than there would normally be for such an event. Currently many of the Hidden Leaf's shinobi were away from the Village, fighting in the War.

Sakumo Hatake tuned out the words being spoken. Words were meaningless. Sayomi was dead, leaving him a widower to raise their four-month old son by himself. As the wind picked up again, he pulled the blanket more securely around the tiny bundle he held. He tugged the hat that had started to work its way off back down to cover the wispy silver hair once again. Kakashi's eyes were squeezed tight against the cold wind and his face scrunched up as he fussed. He could sense the tension and unhappiness around him but not understand why.

Sakumo snuggled the infant closer and bounced him a bit to calm him. Focusing on the baby helped keep his own immeasurable pain and grief at bay. Kakashi gave him a reason to get out of bed in the mornings, to eat, to do anything anymore, really. The thought of raising the boy by himself was a daunting one. He had been an involved parent since the day his son was born. But Sayomi had been by his side. What did he know about raising a baby? How could he possibly hope to nurture this tiny creature all by himself? But he had to. Kakashi had nobody else.

Like him, Sayomi had been a jonin. They had both understood the risks that were a part of being a shinobi. Death was a part of life; it was a risk they took every time they went out on a mission, no matter how seemingly simple. It had always been in the back of their minds while courting and when they had married and when they had made the decision to have children. But for her to die on her first mission since returning to active duty after maternity leave was almost too cruel to bear. She had been so vibrant, so alive; with her cascade of thick brown hair that framed her face and heavy lidded eyes that made it seem as if she was half asleep and a contagious laugh. Then she was suddenly just gone. And his life was suddenly dark and empty.

The voice had stopped speaking. Sakumo forced himself back to the present. His heart may have been ripped from his chest but he was a shinobi; he would keep his pain hidden from view to suffer in silence. He would grieve when he was alone, not in front of others. A flash of anger and resentment welled up as he remembered all the lessons that were drilled into every shinobi about suppressing their feelings. If you didn't allow yourself to feel, the loss of your friends and family wouldn't hurt so much, it was argued. It was a lie. A bitter, viscous, cruel lie.

The assembled men and women began drifting away from the gravesite, some with murmured words of sympathy and support. He nodded woodenly at them, not really hearing what was being said. They meant well. But words would not heal the hole left in his heart from Sayomi's death. Words could not bring her back.

He remained beside the freshly covered grave and newly carved headstone after everyone else had gone. The marker was simple, nothing more than the symbol of the Leaf Village and her name. Nothing about everything that had made her who she was, nothing about the family she left behind. It was the same for every marker that sat in their neat rows. He crouched down. Shifting Kakashi carefully to one arm, he ran the fingers of his free hand over her name.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this," he murmured. "If either of us had to die, it should have been me." He sighed heavily. "I miss you so much already." He shifted his hold on the now squirming bundle in his arms. "I'll protect our son," he promised. "No matter what, I'll keep Kakashi safe."

He shifted his gaze from the headstone to his infant son. He ran one finger gently down the baby's smooth cheek and was rewarded with a toothless drooly smile and a soft gurgle. Using a corner of the blanket, he wiped away the drool from the corner of Kakashi's mouth. Kakashi… not the most common name for a child. The name had been Sayomi's idea. He recalled the conversation with the faintest smile touching his lips.

"I found out what we're having today. Do you want to know?" Sayomi had asked, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I was assuming it was a baby. Though I wouldn't say no to a puppy."

Sayomi rolled her eyes at him, sticking out her tongue. "Fine, be that way!"

Sakumo had laughed. "Okay, tell me."

"You're sure?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You wanted to start decorating the nursery and thinking of a name. You were the one who didn't want to stick with gender neutral if I recall."

"Because that's no fun!" Sayomi smiled. "It's a boy," she said, placing one hand over her swelling abdomen.

Sakumo smiled, resting his hand atop hers. "A boy, huh." He hadn't given much thought to the baby's gender either way. A healthy baby was all he hoped for. He knew Sayomi had wanted their first child to be a boy for reasons known only to her. He was pleased she was getting her wish.

"And I already have the perfect name all picked out!"

He raised one silver eyebrow at that. "On the way back from your appointment? That was fast."

She shrugged. "I thought of it on the way back home," she admitted. "But it's perfect!"

"What is it?"

"Kakashi!"

Sakumo blinked. "Kakashi?" he said slowly.

Sayomi nodded. "Yeah." At his expression, her face fell. "You don't like it."

"I didn't say that. But… 'scarecrow'? That's… different… I suppose…"

"Well I thought it would fit in with the rest of his family's names quite nicely."

Sakumo had to admit his wife had a point. The male names in his family all seemed to revolve around their surname. Hatake – field. He'd never understood the appeal himself. One thing was certain - 'Kakashi' would fit right in with the theme. I suppose he can always try to break the cycle with his own kids someday, Sakumo had mused.

"If you love it that much…" he relented.

"But you don't like it. We agreed that we'd do this together, Sakumo. I don't want you to be unhappy with his name."

He gathered his wife in his arms, running his fingers through her long brown hair. "I'm not unhappy with it. I'll admit it's a bit unusual and that's not necessarily a bad thing. Besides, I don't know a thing about naming a child. Kakashi is fine."

"You would tell me if you like something else better, right?"

"Of course."

"I mean, we still have a few months left before we need to decide, don't we?"

"If we think of something we like better before he's born, we can change it. Until then, Kakashi it is," Sakumo had said, halting Sayomi's uncertain thoughts. He had meant what he said, he didn't know anything about naming and child and hadn't really put any thought into a name for his unborn child yet. He didn't dislike Sayomi's choice, though he suspected it would grow on him.

As the last few months of Sayomi's pregnancy progressed, he had found himself thinking of the baby as 'Kakashi' as well. By the time he was born, the name was firmly entrenched in both his parents' minds. There had been no need of further discussion; they understood they had reached an unspoken agreement on the matter.

The wind had begun to pick up again with greater intensity, sending leaves and small debris flying and causing his pony-tail to whip about. A quick glance upwards showed the clouds had darkened and spread across the sky. The weather was about to take a turn for the worse. Rain and snow didn't bother him, but Kakashi was too young to be out in the cold and wet for any length of time. It was time to go home. Sayomi would never forgive him if Kakashi caught cold from being kept outside during a storm. She wouldn't thank him for remaining here by her grave at the expense of their child's health.

His knees ached from crouching down for so long in the cold. Kakashi was fussing once again. The infant didn't like the cold wind that kept blowing across his face, stealing his breath and frightening him. He was also picking up on his father's unhappiness and tension, causing him to become distressed in turn. Sakumo climbed stiffly to his feet.

"Farewell, my love," he murmured. He turned away from the grave and headed out of the cemetery. He took a direct route back to his house, bounding along the rooftops, holding Kakashi securely against his chest to shield him from the bitter wind. He made it inside just as the skies opened, dropping freezing rain down on the village. He shut the door just as the first drops began to fall.

Sakumo toed his shoes off inside the door, nudging them to one side where no one would trip over them with his foot. Stepping further into the house, he unwrapped the heavy blankets from Kakashi and removed the hat. The baby's fine silver hair stood on end from the static. Sakumo smoothed it down with one hand. Sleepy dark grey eyes watched his movements, taking in everything around him. He yawned widely and stretched, glad to be free of the confining blankets after so long. He flailed about a bit before managing to get one chubby fist into his mouth and began gnawing furiously on it.

"Time to eat, huh?" Sakumo asked.

Kakashi paused in his chewing, blinked at him, then continued trying to devour his own hand.

Sakumo was exhausted, physically and mentally. The past few days had been harder than anything he had ever experienced in his life. Going to his bedroom, he changed out of the standard shinobi mourning clothes and into his sleep clothes. He was too tired to care if it was still early. The clothes were tossed carelessly towards the hamper, his headband onto the dresser. He wanted nothing more than to fall headlong into bed and sleep for a week. But he was now a single father to an infant and had to attend to his sons' needs before anything else.

Going back to the kitchen, Sakumo managed to somehow manage to prepare a bottle while holding Kakashi without making too much of a mess. He grumbled under his breath in annoyance as he sloshed water and formula powder onto the counter. He wiped the mess up quickly. His wife had always made things look so easy. Sayomi had used some sort of sling to carry the infant around in while she did chores, he remembered. He should find it - it would come in handy. He shook his head. Even the simplest thoughts were too much right now. He focused instead on the baby greedily sucking down the contents of the bottle.

Once empty, Sakumo set the bottle aside to be washed later. Kakashi let out a blood curdling scream, his back arching in pain. For something so small he could certainly be loud. Sakumo cursed himself for a fool. He had let the baby down an entire bottle without pausing to burp him. No wonder he was in pain. Feeling guilty, he sat down and lay the baby face down across his knees as he gently patted his back. A few minutes later the unmistakable scent of spit up hit his nose as he felt the wetness on his pant leg. He had forgotten a burp cloth or even a bib. But at least Kakashi no longer seemed to be so distressed.

He righted the child, sitting him up on his knees. Kakashi belched, bringing up another mouthful of spit. This time dribbling it all down his front. He looked up at his father and giggled, obviously feeling better. Sakumo smiled in spite of himself. He was a mess. Kakashi was a mess. He had no idea how to raise a baby on his own. He felt determination well up within him. He would find a way to do it. He cradled his son against his shoulder as he stood.

"We'll figure this out somehow," he murmured, wincing as Kakashi latched onto his hair with one tiny fist. He had one hell of a grip. Especially when he managed to get a handful of hair. Sakumo dimly thought about cutting off the pony-tail but Sayomi would come back from the afterlife to kill him if he did so. She had loved his hair long. Resigning himself to a sore scalp, he got a damp towel and cleaned Kakashi's face. Then he went to the nursery and stripped off the wet sleeper. While he was at it, he changed the diaper.

After a long, stressful day and with a dry diaper, a full belly, and dressed in a warm sleeper, Kakashi's eyelids were drooping. Sakumo walked around the house, rocking him. It didn't take long for the infant to fall asleep. The house felt empty without Sayomi's presence. Instead of putting Kakashi down in his crib, Sakumo carried him to his own bedroom. He lay Kakashi on the bed. He changed his own spit-up covered clothes and then pulled a spare blanket from the closet. He rolled it up, tucking it around the baby like a dam to prevent him from accidently rolling off the bed during the night before climbing into bed himself and turning off the light. He cradled his son in one arm, comforted by the warmth of the small body, the sounds of his soft breathing.

I can do this, he thought as he closed his eyes and almost instantly began to drift off. Kakashi is all I have now. I will protect him.