Yay! New story that I shouldn't be starting because I have a bunch of other things I should be writing!:D But, GUYS! There was a new club at the Y!Gallery and I just HAD to write something for it!_ It's the fanfic100 club, and in case you don't know how those challenge club/communities work...they give you a list of prompts, in this case 100 of them, and you write fics for each prompt. I'm going to try and fit as many of the prompts into this fic as I possibly can. I doubt I'll be able to do all 100, but I'm sure as hell going to try!XD I've been itching to write something new for Sakumo and Kakashi ever since I finished "Otou-san" so I'm happy:3 Wish me luck! And enjoy!
WARNINGS: this fic will most definitely contain father/son INCEST, which also means there will be YAOI. You have been warned.
chapter 1: Beginnings
Limbo is not a fun place.
It's barren and empty, and a lot of the time it's so boring you almost wish you'd just gone to Hell. In limbo you can't feel anything. No pain, no pleasure, not even simple discomfort. If you happen to actually meet someone in limbo, you'll forget them as soon as you blink, because forming relationships with anyone might bring on some sort of happiness that the people of limbo aren't allowed to possess. However, if you're able to keep your eyes open for a little while, you can have small conversations with people, but in the end you'll still forget and be left alone with nothing but memories of your life, sometimes not even that.
Sakumo had been living like that for twenty-four years, not that he was aware of time passing by. There was no day or night in limbo, just a constant grayness in the flat, never-ending landscape. Mostly his thoughts lighted upon his disgrace and his son, Kakashi, who he'd left behind. He wondered how he was faring now that he didn't have his disgraceful father to stain his reputation.
The fallen White Fang sat on the bank of the river separating limbo from Heaven. Un-crossable rivers separated all the sanctions of the spirit world. First the spirits would arrive in limbo, lead by either Shinigami-sama himself, or one of his minions. From there, they'd either cross the black waters of the river separating limbo from Hell, or across the sometimes murky, sometimes clear water of the river separating limbo and Heaven. The only way to cross any of the rivers was by the oddly small boats that, although small in appearance, seemed to be able to carry an innumerable amount of people.
Beyond Heaven, there was another river that separated heaven from Paradise, where heroes and fallen warriors went when they died. Sakumo wasn't really sure how he knew this since he couldn't see that far into Heaven, but he still knew it was there. If he hadn't have killed himself, that's where Sakumo would be. He was a hero, despite what the villagers said about him, but because he'd taken his own life, his sin counterbalanced his heroism, and now he was stuck in limbo for all of eternity.
Sitting by the river he'd never be able to cross, Sakumo plucked gray blades of grass from the ground and shredded them absentmindedly. The eerie gray grass seemed to be the only thing that grew in limbo. He wasn't exactly sure how anything could grow in the land of the dead at all, but it did and it served as a small pleasure for Sakumo—or the closest thing he had to the emotion anyway.
As he sat, minding his own business, the cloudy sky above opened up and Sakumo was able to witness a rare occurrence, at least for him. Most of the souls in limbo weren't around to see the newly dead descend into the spirit world.
The souls looked like a common parody of a ghost most people imagine in their minds--clear, floating versions of people. They drifted down in a large mass from the clouds, herded like cattle by the three lesser Shinigami, and Shinigami-sama himself. They all looked completely out of it, like they were sleep walking. Sakumo was sure Shinigami-sama did something to make the souls zone out or else he was sure at least some of them would be freaking out about being dead.
None of them showed any kind of thought or emotion on their slackened faces though, and followed Shinigami-sama like obedient little ducklings would their mother. The group reached the ground and Shinigami-sama started separating the souls into two groups—the souls that would go to Heaven or possibly Paradise, and the souls that would go straight to Hell. Sakumo supposed no one would be staying in limbo, or maybe they were and he'd already blinked and forgotten them. He wasn't exactly sure why he hadn't forgotten all these new souls already; he'd blinked several times by now, but he still remembered them when he opened his eyes again. Maybe it was because they weren't limbo spirits? Sometimes he thought he could see people in the distance across the river to Heaven. He'd never tried seeing anything in Hell.
The group of Hell's newest souls was much larger than that of Heaven's and was lead away to the river to the south—or at least south of Sakumo; there was no sun to judge direction by.
Sakumo studied the souls that approached the river he sitting at, lead by Shinigami-sama in all his black winged glory. He'd only seem the death god once before, but he'd never forgotten what he looked like. His face hidden behind a massive skull with horns, curling around his head like a ram, and large saber-tooth tiger-like teeth growing both upwards and downwards in the skulls mouth. The seemingly shredded black cloak flowed around him in a nonexistent breeze, sometimes disappearing in wisps at the edges, like the cloak wasn't even real, but a mere mirage.
Although the death god was the image of pure evil that most people imagined, Sakumo was never frightened by him. He might have carried a scythe and had the deepest, gravelliest voice he'd ever heard and thought came straight from a nightmare, but the god never ejected any sort of malignant vibe. He'd actually been quite kind when Sakumo had first met him after he'd killed himself.
But as his eyes drifted away from the Shinigami and took in all the newly dead, Sakumo completely forgot all the kindness the Shinigami had showed him and suddenly wished there was a way to kill a Shinigami, because straggling in the back of the group was what looked to Sakumo as none other than his beloved son, Kakashi. He looked much older than Sakumo remembered; he'd died when the boy was only six, but there was no mistaking his trademark silver hair.
Sakumo was up on his feet before he even thought to get up and started running towards the boy, thinking furiously of a way to save him. It's too soon, Sakumo thought to himself, he can't die yet. Kakashi was thirty, almost thirty-one, and that was a normal age for a shinobi to die, but for Sakumo, it was much too early for his little boy.
Before Sakumo could reach Kakashi, however, he was stopped by one of the lesser Shinigami. They weren't nearly as intimidating as Shinigami-sama. They didn't even have faces or bodies; they were just floating cloaks with shadows hiding the hooded area where a face might be if they had one.
"Go back," the wannabe death god commanded in his whispery voice.
Sakumo ignored him and tried to side-step the creature, but it moved into his path again and continued to deter him. Now Sakumo might have been dead, and he might have suffered from a drop in skills before he died, but he was still a shinobi, and being in the spirit world hadn't robbed him of all his skills. Sure, he couldn't use ninjutsu anymore, or genjutsu for that matter, but all he needed was a little taijutsu, which required no chakra, and was very doable.
Sakumo shoved his fist into the Shinigami's stomach, doubling it over, and then rammed his knee into the supposedly empty space where the thing's face should have been. He didn't even blink when he felt something wet and sticky collide with his knee, making a squelching sound that would have made most people feel like vomiting. The creature fell to the ground and Sakumo was running to Kakashi again.
He never go there though, because Shinigami-sama suddenly appeared out of nowhere right in front of him and said, "Halt," in quiet but authoritative voice that left no room for disobedience.
Sakumo stopped dead in his tracks, unable to move. He was completely paralyzed by the Shinigami's command.
"What is the meaning of this, Hatake-san?" the death god asked, his voice almost reverberating from beneath his skull mask.
"My son…" Sakumo said, glancing around the Shinigami.
"Died honorably in battle, defending his home and comrades," Shinigami-sama supplied.
"But…" Sakumo said, "but he can't die…"
"He can," was all the Shinigami said.
"Please," Sakumo begged, turning pleading eyes on the specter, "please, there must be something you can do...I'll do anything. Please don't let him die yet."
The Shinigami studied him for some time. Sakumo wasn't really sure for how long, but it felt like an eternity nonetheless.
Finally, the death god spoke up, "Hatake-san, do you still remember all your shinobi training?"
Sakumo was taken aback for a moment by the odd question, but nodded.
"You have a very good memory for a soul in limbo. Most don't even remember who they are themselves after a few days."
Sakumo was silent. He didn't know what to say to that, or even what it had to do with the current predicament.
"I have a deal for you, Hatake-san."
Sakumo perked up at that, watching the death god intently.
"I will save you son on one condition. If I am to give him his life back, you will become one of my reapers." Before Sakumo could ask what exactly that was, the Shinigami continued, answering his unasked question. "You will be resurrected and while in the human world, you will harvest the souls of the shinobi who think they can cheat me with their fancy jutsus and elixirs. Do you think you can do this?"
Sakumo nodded, not even needing to think about it. He spent most of his adult, and youth actually, taking lives. How hard could it be now? Plus, did the Shinigami say he would be resurrected? Did that mean he'd be able to see his son again? See everyone he'd lost that day again?
"Before you agree to this, Hatake-san, I should warn you of the consequences should you fail to collect one of the targets," he paused, "Should you fail, not only will your son die, but you will go straight to Hell. There will be no limbo for you any longer."
Sakumo thought about that for a moment and found he didn't really mind it. At least it would be a final extreme. He wouldn't be forever trapped between Heaven and Hell. He'd finally have a final resting place, not that he'd get much rest in Hell…
"However, should you succeed until your end, you will follow your son," the Shinigami added.
"What would happen to Kakashi?" he asked, much more concerned with his son's fate than his own.
"He would go to Paradise, where he belongs."
"And how long would I be a reaper? Would I continue living even after Kakashi died again?" Sakumo had no disillusion that the Shinigami would grant him or his son immortality.
"No. Your souls will be tied. If one of you dies, so will the other."
Sakumo went over it some more in his head. It really was quite a good deal, win-win. He goes back, does his job, Kakashi lives, and he gets to see his son again. He or Kakashi dies, the other goes with them, together forever--unless he failed, in which Kakashi would die, but he'd still go to Paradise, so it didn't matter. That was more than Sakumo could ever dream of.
"Do we have an accord, Hatake-san?" Shinigami-sama asked.
Sakumo nodded firmly. "Yes, Shinigami-sama," he said, already looking forward to his new beginning.
I'm aware that there are some grammar/spelling mistakes, but seeing as though it's 3:30 in the morning...I just can't seem to work up the motivation to give a flying fuck^_^ Maybe I'll fix it later...unlikely...XD Hope you enjoyed it anyway though!:D Let me know what you think so farz!!! I AM A REVIEW MONSTER: FEED ME!