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[fic] crow's nest
On AO3
Kakashi’s hair won’t flatten.
“Face it, pup, you’re gonna look like a sheep’s butt forever,” Pakkun drawls, watching from the corner of Kakashi’s bed. Sprawled out beside him, Bisuke laughs as though he hadn’t meant to, looking guilty about it as Kakashi abandons his reflection and turns away from the mirror.
"Very helpful, thank you,” Kakashi sighs, pulling on his jōnin blues. He makes a note to visit Administration after lunch, provided he lives that long, to file a request for new dog tags. The ones around his neck still list his birth name - his deadname now, he supposes - and since he’s already confided in Tsunade, the Hokage, he doubts he’ll have any trouble with the paperwork.
“I do try,” Pakkun says. “You’re gonna be late to meet your kids.”
Kakashi shoves on his jōnin vest and rummages around for his wallet. He’s due to meet Sakura and Naruto for lunch, a familiar enough routine even with Sasuke’s noticeable absence. Jiraiya and Tsunade are going to whisk away his other two kids soon, and Kakashi sighs, deciding not to think about it. Instead, his minds drifts to the reason he’s asked his kids to lunch, but he shoves those thoughts away, too, before his anxiety has him do something stupid like stay inside and hide. “Maa, they’re used to it. Why did I think cutting my hair was a good idea?”
“It was a good idea!” Bisuke chimes, ever the optimist. Kakashi gives him a pat.
“In your defence, you couldn’t’ve known you’d look like a chicken-butt. Sakumo always had his hair long,” Pakkun adds, and Kakashi doesn’t give him a pat. “Oi, aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Oh yeah,” Kakashi says, picking Icha Icha Paradise up from the desk. His keys, too, but there are more important things. “Later.”
Pakkun’s grumble of smartass has Kakashi smiling as he steps out of the apartment. His now-short hair draws a few, curious looks from the shinobi that he passes, but no one calls out to stop him. Even the ANBU, who have arguably known Kakashi for longer than anyone except perhaps Gai, keep their mouths shut, but that’s probably because they heard him cursing up a storm in his bathroom as he hacked away at his hair. They know to keep their distance, even if Kakashi is two years free of Hound.
Wise lot, those ANBU.
“Wha - Momo-sensei! You’ve cut your hair!”
A few civilians going about their day look up at the bellow, blinking owlishly between Kakashi and the orange blur of a genin marching towards him, but most of the village is well-used to Naruto’s exuberance by now. Kakashi tries not to smile, he really does, but Naruto’s face is slack with shock and his eyes are blown wide, sparkling blue. He scampers towards Kakashi like a puppy fetching a ball, chakra blazing with a curious curl. He takes after Minato in appearance alone; his energy is all Kushina. Naruto plants himself into the street before Kakashi, and as he does, he rocks forward onto his toes, the whisker-like marks on his cheeks pinching as he scrutinises Kakashi’s new hair.
“A keen observation, Naruto,” Kakashi drawls, snapping his dog-eared copy of Icha Icha Paradise shut. He doesn’t so much as blink as Naruto invades his personal space, accustomed to the social shortcomings of his adorable, little genin by now. “Truly, nothing escapes you. Is Sakura not with you?”
“You better believe it!” Naruto agrees, missing the sarcasm entirely. It’s still cute. “Oh, Sakura? She was just -”
A familiar call of Hatsumomo-sensei rings out, and Kakashi raises a hand in greeting as Sakura approaches, as polite as ever. She yanks Naruto back with a reproachful tug, her civility only extending so far, and crow’s feet crinkle around Kakashi’s uncovered eye as his students begin to bicker. Some of the unease swirling in his gut settles down. Lunch with his two darling students is routine; it’s easy, comfortable, and it’s why he’s chosen today to speak with them. He’s been their jōnin-sensei for almost six months now, so he’s about ninety-percent sure that he can predict what their reactions will be. However, that last ten-percent is enough to default him to caution, and as Kakashi pockets his book, he keeps his hands in his pockets and clenches them there.
“I like your new haircut, sensei. It’s very...” Sakura says, her eyes trailing up to the spiky, birds’ nest of a mess that, for the lack of a better word, fluffs up from Kakashi’s head. “Um. Tall.”
“Thank you,” Kakashi says, meaning it sincerely. It’s a strange weight on his head now, loose and light where it used to be long and braided, or pinned up in a bun. It doesn’t bounce against his shoulders or stick in his mouth anymore, but his fringe is still untamable, so at least something is the same. Tenzō’s probably going to die when he sees it, that is, if Asuma and Kurenai don’t kill Kakashi first. “I was thinking barbecue, if you fancy it? My treat.”
Naruto aborts an air-punch halfway through. “Aww, not Ichiraku’s?”
“You had ramen with Iruka-sensei yesterday,” Sakura reminds him, hands on her hips. She’s going to be terrifying once she starts apprenticing under Tsunade, that’s for sure. “Barbecue sounds great, sensei. What did you want to talk to us about?”
Kakashi misses a step and his students definitely notice. “Ahh, I’ll explain once we’ve sat down. Don’t worry about it.”
The restaurant is busy with the lunch-rush when they arrive, but they manage to squeeze into a table in the corner. Overcast grey light sinks in from the street. Kakashi’s self-preservation and his instinct to protect his kids battle out as they squash in around the grill, but ultimately his need to cover his students wins out, and he seats himself down with the windows at his back. Soon, there are drinks clinking and meats sizzling on the grill. Ambient chatter drifts around the restaurant, a peaceful sound. Naruto eats everything without rhyme or reason, pulling strips of beef from the grill and twirling them like pasta around his chopsticks. He forgoes the vegetables and most of the side dishes, allowing Sakura and Kakashi to have their fill.
“You’re leaving with Jiraiya soon, aren’t you?” Kakashi asks. He sips a glass of water, bemused but pleased as his students avert their eyes. To think that they so desperately want to see behind his mask and yet they respect him enough not to peek. There’s nothing to show except a scar and the hint of his father, but perhaps that’ll change once Kakashi starts on testosterone, be it for the better or for worse.
Naruto nods, shoving a slice of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah! It’s gonna be so awesome! I think we’re gonna be away for a while, but you have to buy me ramen when I get back, okay?”
“Maybe he’ll go out of business while you’re gone,” Kakashi deadpans, and then he nearly loses his other eye as Naruto launches himself up onto the bench, limbs, dishes, and chopsticks flying across the table.
“Don’t even joke about that! It won’t happen, right? You gotta make sure that doesn’t happen, Momo-sensei! What if I get back and -?”
“Sit down!” Sakura hisses, yanking Naruto down by his jacket. He makes a sound like a dying dog and crumples, defeated, back onto the bench. He knees the table as he does, and the hot grill jerks, spitting, and their glasses rattle. The people at the next table turn around and goggle, but Kakashi dissuades them with a soft, overly-sweet smile and a bat of his eye.
A rain cloud seems to break open over Naruto’s head. “But Sakura…” he whines, tidying up the table with a pout worthy of Minato’s son. Minato could puppy-dog-eye his way out of anything, and Kakashi smiles small and sad.
“You and your ramen, seriously,” Sakura huffs, jabbing Naruto with her chopsticks. “She’s joking -”
Kakashi winces. “Ah,” he breathes, and his kids whirl towards him. He laughs nervously, making a mess of it; shy isn’t a word he would use to describe himself, but he certainly shies at their attention. “About that.”
“You’re not joking?” Naruto wails.
“What? No, no I am. But since you’re leaving soon, I wanted to - ah - I wanted to talk to you about something.” Kakashi makes a pacifying motion, hoping to quell Naruto before he leaps up again. There’s only so many more places they can be kicked out of before his team have nowhere to eat. “I’m - err - well, I mean to say, I’m…”
The words catch in his throat. He trails off, slumping in his seat. The kids lean closer, concerned and perplexed, and Kakashi pinches the bridge of his nose to hide their worried eyes from view. This is a speech he’s imagined a hundred times over, year after year. It’s a speech he’s even used, in part, to explain to Tsunade and Gai, and his ANBU team back when he didn’t know who he was. But now the words escape him, fight him, and stir the unease back into his gut: everything he prepared for this conversation fades to an overcast haze in his mind. His face feels hot, as though he’s pitched forward and shoved himself embarrassment and all into the grill. One of his kids - probably Sakura - makes a soft noise, and then a hand that can only be Naruto’s reaches out and pats Kakashi’s hair.
“Naruto?” Sakura asks. “What are you -?”
“Momo-sensei ruffles our hair when we’re sad,” he replies, as though this will ever be an acceptable reason to ruffle a former ANBU captain’s hair. “And now it’s not tied back, we can do it too! Right, sensei?”
“I’d prefer a warning before you touch me,” Kakashi replies, pulling away. Then he berates himself, adding softly, “But I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you.”
Naruto grins sunshine and stars. Kakashi sighs, steeling himself. He is Kakashi of the Sharingan - or he will be, soon, if he could just get his mouth to work.
“I’m going to be starting hormone replacement therapy,” he announces, recalling Tsunade’s fancy words. “I don’t know if you know -”
“What’re hormones?” Naruto asks.
Oh boy.
“Okay, well, okay. I’m sure Sakura can explain better than I can,” Kakashi hazards, glancing at her. She says nothing, but her lips are parted slightly from surprise. He hurries on, unsure if that’s a positive reaction. “But that’s not important right now. What is - is, well. What do you know about gender?”
The grill pops. Kakashi lays down some pork just for something to do.
“That’s how you feel about yourself, right?” Naruto says, speaking in that slow, careful way he does when he’s trying to answer correctly. “Like if you’re a man or a woman or both - or neither! Like Shikamaru, yeah? ‘Cause they’re - they’re - ah, what’s the word?”
“Non-binary,” Sakura supplies.
“Yeah, that! Wait, does that mean you’re like Shikamaru, sensei?”
Kakashi hasn’t run any missions with Asuma’s little protégé yet, but now that Naruto mentions it, he remembers Asuma mentioning something about the kid. He makes a note to chat with Shikamaru at some point after blundering through this conversation; it may be beneficial for them both.
“Ah, not exactly. I’m - ah - transgender.” It still sounds weird, I’m transgender, but in a good way. For years he felt unsettled, as a child, as a kunoichi in a three-man cell, and then as he lost his way in ANBU but found himself there, too, behind the genderless masks and the neutral ANBU blacks. It was, perhaps, not the safest place to question himself, but though he regrets much about his time in ANBU, he can never regret Hound. Onwards, he explains, “My body is what’s considered female, but I’m a man. That’s why I’m going to start taking testosterone. I wanted to tell you before you left... I might look different when you come back.”
He should, he will. Knowing his luck, Kakashi will end up looking even more like his father, but his face is hardly the only part of his body that he wants to change.
Naruto cocks his head, still like a puppy. “But you’re still gonna be Momo-sensei, so I’d know it’s you.”
That’s not… entirely wrong. “Well -”
“What Naruto is trying to say, is ‘thank you for telling us’, sensei,” Sakura interrupts, elbowing her teammate. He doesn’t even squawk this time, which goes to show that Kakashi has stunned them both. “Is there anything we can do to help? What pronouns are you comfortable with?”
“You’re going to be a wonderful medic,” Kakashi says, picking at the pork instead of watching her smile. “He, please. I’m also going to start using a different name - officially, I mean - so if you wouldn’t mind -”
Naruto perks up. Sakura slaps a hand over his mouth before he can say anything. The only thing that’s missing from the scene is Sasuke rolling his eyes.
Idiots, Kakashi thinks, trying not to dwell on his wayward student. “It’s Kakashi.”
“Kakashi,” Sakura repeats, only to squeal and fling herself across the bench as Naruto licks her hand. She scrubs it frantically against her dress. “Na - ru - to! You’re the worst!”
He laughs, cheeky and bold just like Kushina. “That’s a cool name, Kakashi-sensei! I’ll have to send you lots of letters so I remember!”
Kakashi-sensei; it rolls from Naruto’s tongue so easily. Kakashi repeats it under his breath, enjoying the sound. “I’d like that,” he says, and then he smiles, really smiles, and his ridiculous, wonderful kids beam.
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