"English"

"Japanese"

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When Kakashi dies, he wakes up to find to himself splayed inside a dumpster.

Intact, bloody and not in Konohagakure.

It was the smell that sinks his reality. The stink of ozone, piss and decomposing trash shoots up his nostrils in a barrage of violence. No corners of the Nine Lands he's infiltrated smelt like that.

Obito's Sharingan burns to life like warm iron in the shadows of the alleyway. Rats skittle across edges of brick and cement. Pigeons flutter on edges of rooftops above him. Further down the alley, a homeless man with facial bone structure foreign to Kakashi snores. Neither sentient beings display a chakra system.

"Kai!"

Pigeons startle and swoop to the dark sky above. Kakashi watch them go, uncomfortable weight collapsing in on him.

After Obito, Rin, Minato and Kushina, Kakashi evolved into a secluded shinobi. Equipped with nothing but himself to lean on. Kakashi reminds himself of this, nocking back hopeless thoughts of teammates and hitting the rooftops to scape out new territory. Right now his top priority was figuring out where he was and staying alive.

He was in a city, Kakashi discovers. Screwing his eyes against the glare of bright, angular buildings. Each heaped up to the sky in a collection of sizes. Monochrome and metal and brick; a few looked to be inspired by churches of Jashin.

Igniting Obito's eye, he scans building by building. Hunched stone creatures rested on most rooftop corners, others were lit by angry neo signs of illegible characters. Kakashi gathers after some time he's at the outer edges of the city. Urbanized region primarily for the lower class.

Examining the civilian culture, Kakashi notes a mixed profile and decides he won't have to change his appearance too much to assimilate. Weariness begins to creep over him. Learning this world will take time.

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The night gave Kakashi an advantage as he stalks through town. Needing to find a temporary basecamp to recuperate. Dying and being resurrected had instilled a soft pressure behind the eyes he couldn't ignore for much longer.

After swiping some clothes off a laundry line from a nearby rooftop, he had ditched his bloody uniform apart from the trousers and mask in his dumpster. Now he wore a nondescript grey t-shirt, brown hoodie pulled up to hide his hair and black socks. Konoha's headband was twisted around so the knot was covering his eye. Weapons were concealed and all that left was pickpocketing some money. Currency here was yet unknown so Kakashi settled for pickpocketing a couple people and letting the woman behind reception desk figure it out for him.

The motel he decided on the one screaming 'no questions asked'. It was a two story building sandwiched between a whorehouse with a red neon lady dancing inside a martini glass and a building with side of its wall smashed off. Now there was an interesting story. The motel had a metal sign hanging off its wall with similar characters from the city. Beneath the large characters he read:

'Blue Bird Inn'

So his language was also used in this world...

Walking up the steps leading inside, Kakashi passes a pair of older men dressed in stained rags. They smelt like drugs and liquor and shouts something at him that Kakashi ignores. He opens the wooden door held together by rusted nails and makes his way in. The interior is cramped and reminds him of the garbage bin. In both smell and appearance. The lady behind the desk is smoking a cigarette held between fingers resembling talons. Though clearly aged, she holds similar facial features like himself and Kakashi for once, feels a semblance of relief brought on by fatigue.

"I'm looking to rent a single room," he says through the thin plastic separating them.

Dark eyes drink him in, apathetic and slightly guarded. "How many nights?" Her tone held a foreign tint to it he couldn't identify.

"How many can this buy?" Kakashi brings out five wallets and hands them over through a slight hole in plastic above the wooden desk. The clear signs of theft doesn't so much as make her blink.

After a minute of examination and counting, she replies. "Five."

Kakashi takes the offered key and makes his way up the staircase enclosed to the wall on his right. Attached to the key ring is a piece of blue plastic scratched with the number 19 on it.

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Room 19 is the size of his old apartment. Small, with a single bed and tiny bathroom. There is no kitchen. Kakashi didn't expect one. Above the bed is a window overlooking the street.

The walls are thin and he can hear the room next to his fill with moans and slaps of flesh. Across the hall a man's crazed murmuring slips out. The room beneath stained floorboards is a womans' laughter and a mans' anger. He can hear music cover the 'going on's' in the brothel next door through bricks and wall plaster. Shouts from outside and alleyway muggings involve themselves in the white noise of this worlds' sickness.

Kakashi spends time taking care of setting traps. With the minuscule amount of weaponry he has left on his person, it leaves much to be desired for. He resolves to locate and visit an artillery store first thing tomorrow along with a library. Knowing his language is also apart of this foreign world gives him hope of assimilating quicker than he originally thought.

Finished, he turns the light off. Room drowning in darkness except from the thin glow of street light through the small window.

He steers clear of the window out of habit and takes to sitting in a corner of the room. Position making him invisible to whomever charges in upon first sight - through either window or door. Kunai resting on his thing in a loose grip, Kakashi steadies his breathing. Drinking in the sounds of the night, familiarizing himself with them before slipping into sleep.

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Scraping alerts Kakashi to awareness. It's different from the noise he had quickly acquainted himself with and all too quickly his dreams of home are tarnished.

ANBU training keeps Kakashi still, grip tightening around his kunai in provision. The noise comes from his door. To be more exact, the lock.

Somebody was trying to pick it.

Focusing chakra to his ears and nose, Kakashi picks out two sets of feet. Unstable and heavy. The scent they carry pinpoints it to the two men he had ignored outside 'Blue Bird'. Obviously, ignoring them was the wrong choice to take.

Whatever their intensions are now. It wasn't pure.

Resolving himself from tension, Kakashi waits five minutes for the door to open.

The first man steps inside and trips wire. Releasing a small shuriken that slices across the air. Severing his trachea in a clean swipe.

It happened so quickly that the man doesn't know what's happened until his lungs fill with blood. Hands come up to divided skin in shock, knees buckling underneath him and blubbering incoherently. The other man behind stares in petrified terror. He manages a whimper before a kunai drives itself into his eye with a flick of the wrist. For a moment the man develops a dumb expression. Suddenly weak, he collapses forward. Weight of his fall hammering Kakashi's kunai further into his skull.

Well, that takes care of that.

Standing, Kakashi strides across the room and drags the men in by their collars, shutting the door with his foot. He then proceeds to strip his duvet of its cover. Splaying it out on the floor besides the gurgling man and rolls him into it.

Thirty seconds pass. Gurgling stops.

The man is dead.

"Excuse me," Kakashi apologises when collecting his kunai out of the man's eye socket. Gently placing his fingertips on either side of the blade as he pulls, taking care for the eyeball to not follow.

He joins his friend in the sheet.

Switching the light on, Kakashi makes swift work of cleaning puddles of blood and wrapping the men in the duvet cover.

Kakashi choses to store them in the bathroom.

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