PUZZLING KAKASHI

R. Winters

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. I have never owned Naruto. I will never own Naruto. If you have any doubt later on in the story, refer to this disclaimer.

This is a story I have been working on for a long time, ever since I noticed that Kakashi shares some of the unusual behavioral ticks of my own brother, and it led me to think that the character might have some mild developmental disorder. (Duh, a heavy influence of childhood traumas, right? Of course his development was a little different from most children.) Anyway, all I am doing here is taking the characteristics Kakashi already has and pushing them to the extreme. This story is more of a character study in that sense, of both Kakashi and the puzzling workings of the human mind itself, but stop me if I start to preach for the cause, this is still a fictional piece of writing, not an information dump, and I hope you will find it enjoyable.

I look forward to hearing what you think of the first chapter.

Chapter 1 – An Unusual Baby

"Tadaima." Sakumo slid the door shut behind him and dropped his vest next to the wall. He rolled his shoulders and let out a relieved sigh before shaking his head and moving further into the house.

"Natsumi-san?" He called, peeking into the kitchen.

The Jounin frowned—the room was a mess. Two of the lower cabinets were open and a bag of rice had been spilled all over the floor.

"Natsumi-san?" He called again, moving on. There were torn scraps of paper littering three of the pillows in the sitting room, and his office door was open, an ink stain splashed across the side of his desk and the floor.

The man cringed and hurried down the hall to Kakashi's room. He slid the door open, "Natsumi-san? Kakashi!" The little boy and his caregiver were nowhere to be seen.

Leaving the door ajar, Sakumo continued towards the back of the house, trying to ignore the irrational thoughts beginning to surface in his mind. The damage was too focused and didn't match up with a possible break-in, but Natsumi didn't usually leave the house in a mess.

"Natsumi-san!" He called again, pausing to check his room and the other doors near the end of the hall.

"Outside, Sakumo!" A familiar voice finally responded, a little muffled by the walls between him and the woman.

Sakumo hurried through an open doorway into one of the many unused rooms in his house—the sliding door that connected to the backyard was already open and the Jounin released a second breath of relief before hurrying out.

His anxious gait slowed into something more leisurely as he spotted the elderly woman who had once been his own caregiver and was now his child's. Natsumi hadn't changed much from his childhood days, although her dark hair was streaked with gray and the wrinkles on her face had multiplied. She still wore traditional clothing, and her long, blue kimono looked bright in the afternoon sun.

"Natsumi-san," Sakumo called as he approached, glancing around, "Where's Kakashi?"

As he neared, he noticed the woman's expression. Her face looked worn and tired, and the skin around her eyes was tight. He frowned, stopping next to her.

"What is it? Did something happen?"

The woman made a frustrated noise. "Sakumo, I… Kakashi…" She met his eyes, her gaze pained but determined, "I'm sorry, Sakumo, but I don't think I can do this anymore."

It took a moment for the words to register. "What?" Sakumo asked, bewildered, "You mean…"

Natsumi shook her head, "I can't… I'm sorry, Sakumo, but I'm getting old, and Kakashi…" She sighed.

"Where is Kakashi?" Sakumo asked again, worried.

The woman pointed up and Sakumo looked, his eyes widening in surprise when he spotted his one-year-old son among the branches of a tree at the edge of the yard.

"He's been up there for hours," Natsumi said, a desperate edge in her voice like he'd never heard before. "He was crying, at first, but he wouldn't let me pull him out, and then he climbed even higher so I couldn't reach him… I couldn't find help because I was afraid he would fall while I was gone…"

Sakumo ran a hand through the short, disheveled hair on the top of his head, stopping when his fingers touched the base of his ponytail in back. "He climbed up a tree? How did he get up there?" He questioned, bewildered, "And why? Natsumi-san, I think you'd better explain."

The woman nodded. "Yes, well… Kakashi was sitting inside… playing…" She hesitated over the word and Sakumo nodded.

Kakashi had an interesting way of playing. He didn't care much for toys, although he stacked his blocks as high as he could reach if he noticed them scattered on the floor, but his favorite activity was tearing paper. He'd sit still and meticulously work on a piece of paper to extract as many tiny, paper squares as he could. Natsumi had expressed worry to him several times over the behavior, but Sakumo didn't see what the big deal was. He couldn't really remember playing with toys a child, either.

"When he suddenly got up and went into the kitchen," Natsumi continued, "I thought he might be hungry, so I followed him, but he was already getting into the cabinets, pulling out boxes and cans."

"I told him to stop, but he didn't listen—he never listens, you know—and as I was trying to put everything back, he pulled out a bag of rice and… well, you probably saw," Natsumi supplied.

Sakumo nodded again, "It's still all over."

"I'll clean it up before I leave," the woman assured him. "When I finally got him away from the cabinets, I started to brush up the rice, only to realize Kakashi was gone again. When I found him, he was in your office, covered with ink."

Sakumo grimaced.

"I yelled at him, but he didn't pay any attention—he was more upset by the ink on his hands, I think. That's when he ran out here," Natsumi finished. She shook her head in exasperation, "Sakumo… I've never taken care of a child like Kakashi before… he does these things… and he never listens to anything I say—I just don't think I can handle him. You need to find someone younger."

The Jounin sighed and looked up at the little boy in the tree. Kakashi wasn't even watching them—instead, he seemed to have found something interesting on the tree's leaves to stare at.

"Isn't it normal for little boys to act that way?" He asked rhetorically, "Kakashi's just… active… and he sees things a little differently. You said yourself he was a good baby."

For months he'd been in the routine of returning home to hear nothing but good things about Kakashi. He rarely cried and behaved about as well as any baby could, always looking intently at the world around him. Sakumo wasn't even sure when that had changed, but slowly Natsumi had started to tell him she was worried about the baby.

Concerns like he doesn't look at me and he should have started babbling weeks ago didn't particularly bother him. Kakashi was quiet, but some people were just reserved. He'd thought it was strange when Kakashi stopped drinking milk, unless it had cinnamon sprinkled in it, but that had only meant his son had strange tastes.

And then he'd started crawling, and soon after, walking, and Sakumo had been too proud of the little boy's physical prowess to be worried about his lack of gesturing or recognizing words.

"Is it really a problem?" He wondered out loud.

"I don't really know," Natsumi said again, "But I can't handle him. Even if he was a little fireball like you were, it would be easier."

Sakumo sighed, "Yes… I understand, Natsumi-san. I'll find someone else." Ever since he'd found out his wife was pregnant, the two of them had made plans for his old nanny to come in to watch the baby while they were away. Natsumi's occupation was to rear shinobi offspring while their parents were busy with missions and before they came of age to join the Academy. He already trusted her with his life, trusting her with his son's was easy.

"… Kakashi," the man called out as Natsumi headed back for the house. He frowned up at the boy, who hadn't even reacted to his own name.

"Kakashi!" He snapped again, louder, and was satisfied when the boy jumped slightly, large round eyes looking down at him, even briefly.

Shaking his head with exasperation as the boy's attention returned to whatever he'd been staring at, Sakumo began climbing the tree after him. Obviously, Kakashi did recognize his name—or, at least, he knew when someone was shouting at him. He'd talk when he was ready; he was only a year old.

Stepping carefully onto the branch his son was perched on, Sakumo easily scooped the toddler into his arms, smiling down at the tiny boy, who looked at him briefly again before turning his attention to the leaves.

"Come on, let's get you down," Sakumo said, "You had Natsumi-san worried. You need to be more careful, Kakashi."

The man frowned slightly as he dropped to the ground, looking towards the house. He wasn't sure who he'd find to look after his son now. Someone younger, Natsumi had said, but Sakumo didn't really know many civilians in the first place.

He supposed he could talk with the other shinobi parents in town—someone was bound to know a good nanny.