It was a dark day in Konoha; a downpour was washing the streets and coating it in a slick rain. The rain left a glossy sheen on everything in its wake. The lightning flashes and a low growl of thunder tails close behind.

A crackle and a flash illuminates the isolated streets. All signs of life deserted and forced to wait out the storm. A clap of thunder vibrates through the shaken town, as rain floods the streets.

A spark of light illuminates a window. A young boy stands by the storm. Appearing impassive, but fear lit in the depths of his eyes. He tries; he desperately tries to seem emotionless. He does not want anyone knowing about his inner turmoil.

He didn't need them to worry about him. But he still wishes there was someone there to comfort him. He wishes his father was still with him to wait out the storm. So he wouldn't have to stay awake alone all night.

But, as he stands in the storm, he can't help but feel frightened. He calls himself, weak, childish, to feel this feeling. To admit that he was scared. He shouldn't be afraid; a good shinobi never shows fear.

A loud snarl of thunder and a blinding strike of lightning and it terrifies the poor boy. The rain is relentless and the wind is howling and whipping outside.

He has flashbacks of that night, still raw and fresh in his mind. Lightning always reminded him of Sakumo, the night that he had found his father. It had been a night like this one.

*Flashback*

A particularly nasty storm traumatizing Konoha. With a bolt of lightning guiding him and a steady roll of thunder pounding in synch with his heartbeat. Hearing his blood pounding in his ears and his breath catch because he knows something is very, very, wrong.

And his feet refuse to listen to him and his throat closes up and his breath becomes raspy and labored with panic.

The lightning providing a path for him and the thunder urging him on. And he's running, running, running, just wanting to escape the choking, unnatural stillness in the air. And he checks almost every room, his mind refusing to believe that he really was smelling blood.

And the suffocation grows with every step he takes. And he stops short.

The room down the hall, the room that had been closed for all his life. The one his father told him to never go into, because that was private and no matter what that door stays closed. It was down the hall, the door was still closed, as always, but now he knew that there were secrets and discoveries beyond that door.

It was the only room he hasn't checked. He takes a precarious step forwards, and then another, his eyes wide with fear and his whole body trembling with barely compressed anxiety.

Each step takes an eternity, his mind battling fear, and a small voice in his head telling him to turn back, get help, just go, do something. But he needed to do this alone. His breath is short as he reaches the door he was restricted from. He hears lightning cackle in the background and the sound of rainfall is drowned out by his thumping heart.

His hand shakily turns the knob and Kakashi enters the nightmare.

*End of fashback*

He wished he had never opened that door. He wished he had just called for someone else and let them take care of it. Then the last memory of his father could have been a better one and not his glassy, unseeing eyes and his limp body on the floor of the study.

All the horrors of life became real and he was lost without his father to guide him. He had opened that door and closed his heart. Maybe, if he had never opened that door, he could have let the ANBU that were forever patrolling come check it out.

He could have had his last sight of his father at a happier time, not lifeless and cold and heavy and dead. He couldn't forget it. A blaze of light and the flashback fades, leaving a broken child in its wake. And the fears in his eyes are real, and this was the reality, and his father was gone. And now he cowers in fear, absolutely frightened, as memories surge forth.

He does not hear the door open; he does not hear the empty footsteps echoing down the hall. And if he could, it would have petrified him.

He does not hear his name being called, the booming thunder drowns it out, and he does not see a person enter the room, the strong lightning flashes and shields the intruder. But he does feel the hand on his shoulder. And his mind races a mile a minute and he gasps in pure fear as his eyes sees things that aren't there.

His eyes widen as he stares at the stranger, desperately trying to match a name to a face, trying to identify the unfamiliar hand on his shoulder. A shock of yellow hair allows him to recognize the visitor.

His terror-stricken body relaxes, his tight shoulders cautiously unwind his coiled muscles slack, his eye droops slightly, and he lets out the breath he didn't know he had been holding.

He keeps his eyes downcast, ashamed of letting his emotions get to him. Knowing that he should be better than then that and his father had taught him better than that. He should have known who it was, he should have been prepared.

He was a chuunin; he was expected to be better, to know more. What if it had been an attack? He would have been dead in a flash on the field. That was irreversible; if he died he would never be able to bring honor to his long dead clan. He was the last of the Hatake, and he had to live up to their forgotten legacy.

The hand on his shoulders softens, and Minato-sensei crouches down so he is eye level with his student. Gentle blue eyes bore into hard black ones. The beginning of a smile begins to crack its way through the man's worried look.

"It's okay to be afraid, Kakashi." The man whispers.

No, it's not… The silver haired boy averts his gaze stubbornness and pride preventing him from admitting it.

Though he knows that Minato had been there for who knows how long. And he had been watching Kakashi for who knows how long, and how much had he seen? There was no use trying to deny it, his pain and fear was clear in his eyes, the only place he hadn't managed to cover up.

Sensei was lying. It was never okay to be afraid. Fear was an emotion, and emotion lead to failure. Why couldn't sensei understand this? He could feel the confusion bubbling up from inside him.

The way it always did when sensei smiled or hugged Kakashi. How come it was okay for sensei to be happy? How come he could show emotion and get away with it? How come there were no consequences for him?

There were consequences for Kakashi; he had his heart ripped out the first time he tried. The rules, his father had preached them, but in the end they didn't apply to him. And in then they killed him.

Was it the same with Minato-sensei? And he asks himself again and again, what was this warm feeling that always overcomes his and swallows him like a big fuzzy blanket?

He didn't know what it was, he struggled with it, and in the end he left it alone. Then it became less enjoyable and easier to ignore. It was much simpler that way, and every time he pushed it aside, he always wonders if he was really seeing the sadness in his sensei's eyes.

He always was left confused by the disappointment and deep sorrow in his sensei's gaze. Did he do something wrong?

Surrounded by his thoughts, he fails to react to his sensei's big arms folding around him and gathering him up. His struggles are in vain and his protests are muffled. That would have been another fatal mistake in the field.

He scowled in his sensei's arms, he was making stupid mistakes. He would have been dead twice over in battle. He shouldn't let himself be ruffled by the storm. He was supposed to be untouchable. Why was he breaking down after something so simple? He was supposed to be stronger.

Minato picks him up off the ground and cradles the boy in his arms. Exhaustion takes over and Kakashi hangs limp in the man's arms. He lets him carry him over to the bed and place him down gently. He watches his sensei with wary eyes as he moves to sit next to him.

They sit on the bed, and Kakashi's eyes are beginning to feel heavy and drowsy, but he refuses to let it show.

It didn't get past his sensei. "Are you tired Kakashi?"

He shook his head with a muffled "No."

He would not sleep on this night. He sighed and looked at his sensei. The man's eyes met his and they stared at each other. Kakashi's gaze cold and accusing and Minato are soft and warm. Minato's eyes were friendly and open, and Kakashi's were clouded by distrust and weariness. His sensei's eyes were open for comfort.

He wanted to help this boy, but he refused to let him close. Somewhere deep inside, Kakashi doesn't want Minato to leave him, he clings to him. He wants to learn, but his pride won't let him. He squeezes his eyes shut in frustration and a desperate attempt to hide from the blame and confusion.

Minato calmly observes his student try to cope with the grief. He lays his arm on the boy's shoulder and is pleased to see the boy accept the movement and lean further into his embrace. Minato allows a small quiet smile to grace his lips as he gazes at the crushed boy in his arms.

He looks down fondly as the young boy in his arms shakes with memories.

"You know why we have storms and rainy days?" Minato peered at his student over a tuff of silver hair

To torture me? To make sure I'll never forget? Kakashi darkly answered in his head.

"Hmm?" Minato watched his student's reaction as he waited for an answer. He saw the boy's eyes become shadowed and he hoped that whatever he was going to say his answer would still work.

"I don't know…" Came the quiet reply. Kakashi's eyes narrowed as he wandered deep in thought and he waded farther into his misery. He felt it was better not to say what was really going on. The less people knew about him, the better. The harder it would be to hurt him.

"Well this is a good learning experience!" Minato cuddled the boy closer, he felt Kakashi stiffen against him and begin to pull away, but Minato kept him locked firmly in his arms, forcing Kakashi to accept his fate.

"Sensei-"Kakashi tried to break free, but his struggles proved useless as his sensei trapped him in an embrace. He didn't need this. He wished his sensei would leave him be. So he could be alone and suffer in silence instead of trying to distract him. He didn't want to know about the rain, he didn't care why they had rainy days, for him they were just to make him miserable.

"Stop squirming, I won't let you go." Minato's stubbornness was another one of his many traits. And Kakashi knew that any attempt of escape was impossible. So he stopped wriggling and gaze out through his sensei's arms around him. Trapping him like a jail.

Feeling his student's surrender, Minato went on with a light chuckle.

"Well, the rain gives the plants a drink and the sun a break, because it can't keep shining forever can it? The sun goes away and the rain comes out and refreshes all the plants, and when the sun comes back, it shines brighter. We have days like these so we can learn to embrace the brighter things and enjoy sunny days to their full potential."

Kakashi involuntarily rolled his eyes. That was ridiculous; rainy days were just because of nature, nothing more. There was no such thing as the sun going out, or shining brighter, it's always the same. And it wouldn't change.

When the sun came out again, he couldn't appreciate because he knew it would be taken away again. How could he enjoy it if he knew it wouldn't last? How could he fully live when he knew storm clouds and rainy days would soon follow after everywhere he went and everything he did? Or did his sensei mean something deeper than that?

Did he know what day it was? Was he saying what sadness is all part of life and when it's over you were supposed to go on like nothing happen? How after the rain and terror is over you're supposed to be all happy and life will seem better after? His sensei was crazy.

He should know by now that that's never how things work. After the storm bright days grow duller and hearts grow colder.

Minato calmly waited in the silence, feeling pretty proud of himself for thinking that one up. He was so good with words sometimes. It made perfect sense to him. There are still good things in life. Maybe that would cheer up this bitter boy he knew. Maybe he would understand what he was trying to get at.

An answer never came, for the boy seemed to embrace the rest and give up trying to resist the sleepiness that was coming over him. His eyes drooped lower and his world became fuzzy as sleep tugged at his mind.

He surrendered the battle for awareness and allowed rest to swamp his mind and steal him from the waking world.

Minato guided the covers over the sleeping form of the boy, gazed at him in affection, and swept out of the room leaving only a peaceful aura in his wake.

Yaay for the end of chapter one! I'll have more eventually, but it will come quicker if you reveiw. Even if you want to tell me its terrible, I'm cool with flames.