Chapter Text
The mission had already failed. Everyone knew it. The forest burned in violent bursts of orange light behind them as the surviving ANBU fled through the trees. Smoke choked the air. Somewhere in the distance, another explosion shattered the night hard enough to rattle branches loose overhead.
“Move!”
The squad commander never looked back. None of them were supposed to survive encounters with the Akatsuki. Survival now meant escape.
A shinobi stumbled during a landing beside the commander, blood soaking through the bandages wrapped hastily around his side.
“What about Inu?”
No answer came at first, only the sound of movement through branches.
“He’s down,” flat, immediate, final.
Another operative glanced back instinctively. Far behind them, barely visible through drifting smoke and collapsing trees, a figure lay motionless in the ruined clearing. Silver hair darkened with blood. ANBU armor scorched black. Still.
The operative swallowed.
“He might still be alive.”
“He was caught in the blast radius,” the commander said coldly. “His chakra collapsed.”
Another explosion thundered somewhere behind them. Too close.
The younger ANBU hesitated anyway.
“…Should we at least retrieve the Sharingan?”
That finally made the commander stop. For one sharp moment, silence stretched between them.
“Do you intend to fight two S-rank criminals for a corpse?”
The operative lowered his head immediately.
“No, sir.”
“Then move.”
And that was the end of it. No ceremony. No argument. No retrieval.
Kakashi Hatake, the youngest operative considered for ANBU command, was left behind in the burning forest because the mission could still salvage living assets. And Kakashi was no longer considered one.
---
The clearing smelled like ash and blood. Deidara landed first atop the shattered remains of a fallen tree, cloak fluttering lightly behind him.
“Well,” he muttered, surveying the destruction with irritation, “that was annoying, hm.”
A massive iron tail dragged briefly across the ground before retracting soundlessly. Sasori emerged from the smoke nearby, expression unreadable.
Bodies lay scattered across the ruined clearing. Most unmoving.
One shifted weakly.
Deidara noticed immediately.
“…Huh.”
Near the edge of the crater, half-buried beneath splintered wood and dirt, a silver-haired shinobi lay collapsed against the broken roots of a tree. The ANBU mask still covered most of his face, though blood had dried beneath the porcelain edge. One arm bent wrong. Burn damage spread darkly beneath torn armor. And somehow, against all odds, still breathing.
“Tobi,” Deidara called lazily, “check that.”
“Tobi doesn’t wanna touch dead bodies!” came the immediate complaint from somewhere behind them.
“You are literally a missing-nin.”
“Oh. Right!”
Tobi emerged from the smoke in an exaggerated stumble before crouching beside the fallen ANBU. Then he went still. It lasted less than a second. But Sasori noticed.
The boy beneath the mask looked young up close. Too pale. Pulse weak beneath burned skin. Chakra coils shredded from overuse. And underneath the blood and dirt and exhaustion Kakashi. Alive.
Obito’s stomach twisted violently.
Kakashi’s breathing hitched once, shallow and ragged.
Deidara clicked his tongue. “Still alive?”
Tobi tilted his head.
“Barely!”
His voice stayed light. Careless.
Only his hands betrayed him for the briefest moment as he adjusted Kakashi’s shoulder carefully, cautious with the fractured ribs.
Sasori’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“The injuries are survivable,” he said calmly.
Deidara looked toward the distant treeline where the ANBU had vanished.
“They just... left him?”
“Their retreat was prioritized.”
“Hmm.”
Deidara frowned faintly. Even for shinobi, abandoning one of their own while he was still breathing sat badly in his gut.
Tobi’s gloved fingers tightened once against Kakashi’s armor before relaxing immediately.
“We should take him!” he announced suddenly. “Prisoners are important!”
Deidara barked a laugh.
“Since when do you care about prisoners?”
“Tobi wants to help the organization!”
Sasori’s gaze lingered on him for a long moment. Assessing. Calculating.
“The Sharingan may be useful.”
The excuse settled easily into place. Tobi brightened instantly.
“Tobi caught a valuable prisoner!”
Before anyone could object, he hooked Kakashi over one shoulder in a single smooth movement, carelessly enough to look convincing. But his grip adjusted automatically at the last second, avoiding the damaged ribs, supporting the injured arm. Careful.
Tobi straightened immediately, posture loose and stupid again.
“We should go before more ANBU show up!” he announced brightly.
They vanished into the trees. And behind them, the forest continued to burn where Konoha had abandoned one of its own.
---
The hideout was quieter than usual when they returned. Low voices echoed faintly through the stone corridors before dying off as Tobi entered carrying the unconscious ANBU over his shoulder. Not carefully. Not carelessly either. Just enough force to sell the image of a captured enemy.
Kakashi hung limp against his back, silver hair falling over the white ANBU mask still covering his face. Blood had dried dark against the armor during the journey back.
Tobi adjusted his grip once when nobody was looking. Careful of the ribs. Then immediately loosened it again as Deidara glanced over.
“Well,” Deidara announced to the room, kicking the door shut behind them, “look what Tobi dragged home, hm.”
Several heads turned. Kisame looked up first from where he sat sharpening Samehada. Hidan tilted his head from where he hung upside down over the back of a couch like some kind of feral cryptid.
“The hell is that?” he demanded.
“Tobi caught a prisoner!” Tobi announced proudly.
“You brought home an ANBU?” Kisame asked, eyebrows lifting.
“Tobi is useful!”
“You’re annoying,” Deidara corrected automatically as he walked further inside.
Tobi crossed the room and dropped Kakashi against the wall. Not hard enough to worsen the injuries. Not soft enough to look suspicious.
Kakashi slumped sideways immediately, breathing shallow beneath the ANBU mask. A thin streak of blood ran from beneath the porcelain onto his neck.
The room quieted slightly.
Sasori approached without a word and crouched beside him. Assessment replaced the atmosphere immediately. Pulse. Ribs. Burns. Breathing.
“He is deteriorating,” Sasori stated.
“Well, no shit,” Hidan snorted, hopping down from the couch. “Kid looks half dead.”
“He likely will be within the hour without treatment.”
That changed the mood.
“Hm,” Deidara muttered. “Seriously?”
Sasori ignored him and began removing damaged armor pieces with mechanical efficiency. Cracked shoulder guards. Blood-soaked straps. A shattered tantō sheath. The deeper the armor came off, the worse it became. Bruising spread dark beneath pale skin. Old scars layered beneath fresh injuries. Burn damage crawled across Kakashi’s side where the explosion had caught him. His chakra pathways looked overstrained even to non-medics.
Hidan’s expression shifted slightly.
“What the hell did Konoha do to this kid?”
No one answered.
Sasori reached for the ANBU mask. For one dangerous second, Tobi almost stopped him. Then the mask came away.
Silence settled over the room. Too young. That was the first thing most of them noticed. The infamous Copy Ninja looked younger unconscious somehow. Sharp-featured beneath blood and dirt. Exhaustion hollowed shadows beneath his eyes that no teenager should have carried.
“Huh,” Hidan said after a moment. Not mocking this time. Just surprised. “That’s a damn kid.”
Deidara frowned faintly.
“That’s the Cold-Blooded Kakashi?”
“He only joined ANBU a couple years ago, didn’t he?” Kisame asked.
Tobi remained crouched nearby, silent behind the spiral mask.
Sasori pressed glowing chakra against Kakashi’s damaged ribs.
“Multiple untreated older injuries,” he observed calmly.
Deidara frowned. “Older?”
“These were not all sustained tonight.”
Something ugly flickered through the room. Tobi stayed crouched nearby, silent behind the spiral mask. Because if he spoke too much right now, someone might notice the rage bleeding through him.
Kakashi twitched weakly against the wall. Instinctively, Tobi moved first. Then abruptly turned the motion into exaggerated flailing.
“Whoa! Creepy prisoner movement!”
Deidara gave him a strange look.
Before anyone could comment further, footsteps echoed from deeper within the hideout. The room shifted subtly. Itachi entered soundlessly. His gaze swept over the gathered members once before landing on the unconscious shinobi against the wall. He stopped. Stillness settled over him almost immediately.
“…Kakashi.”
The name came quietly. Not shocked. Not detached either. Just tired.
“You know him?” Kisame asked.
“We served together in ANBU,” Itachi answered.
Hidan clicked his tongue.
“Konoha’s really out there grinding children into paste, huh.”
“That is what shinobi villages do,” Sasori replied.
The words landed heavily in the room.
Itachi stepped closer. His eyes moved once over Kakashi’s injuries. Assessing. Understanding. And perhaps because he understood too well, something in his expression cooled further.
“He was abandoned?” Itachi asked quietly.
Deidara shoved his hands into his sleeves.
“Left bleeding in the forest while still alive, hm.”
For the first time, something sharpened visibly in Itachi’s gaze. Recognition. Because he knew ANBU. He knew exactly how quickly the system consumed shinobi useful enough to sacrifice themselves for it. Especially children. He lived through that.
Kakashi shifted weakly again, fingers twitching against the floor, instinctively searching for a weapon that was no longer there.
Hidan noticed first. The immortal crouched nearby, elbows resting on his knees.
“Relax, kid,” he muttered, almost absentmindedly. “Nobody’s killing you yet.”
Then after a pause.
“Probably.”
Kisame snorted.
“Yeah, that's reassuring!”
“We’ve got a bigger issue anyway,” Deidara interrupted.
Several heads turned toward him.
“Pain’s returning tonight for the briefing.”
That changed the atmosphere instantly.
Hidan grimaced.
“Oof. Yeah. Good luck explaining this.”
“Tobi captured a valuable prisoner!” Tobi said quickly.
“You brought home a half-dead ANBU teenager,” Deidara corrected. “Pain’s gonna ask why.”
No one answered immediately. Because the real answer “because they couldn’t just leave him there” was not the kind of reasoning the Akatsuki usually operated on.
Across the room, Itachi continued watching Kakashi silently.
“Konoha discarded him easily enough.”
The room quieted slightly. Itachi’s gaze remained on the unconscious shinobi against the wall.
“I see no reason to return him.”