Obligatory Author's Note: I think it's safe to say I will try and put out one chapter per week, or more if I end up finishing it faster. I expect 20 roughly 1000 word chapters, probably longer in the last half. Quantity subject to change. Your feedback is priceless, even if it's just to say you liked it. I hope you guys enjoy this; it's certainly a lot of fun to write! Thanks to the YonKaka and sasuxnaru comms on LJ for their encouragment, and as always, MoiyaHatake for reading and supporting. :)
Summary: Naruto has always wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and become Hokage, but this wasn't exactly how it was supposed to happen. Now, the only thing he wants is to have his father back...and his own body.
Setting: Canonverse - AU timeline, Yondaime survived Kyuubi sealing, Sasuke never left. Team 7 are roughly nineteen years old.
Pairings/Characters: NaruSasu, YonKaka (plus other Rookie 9, Jiraiya, Tsunade throughout series; also, name order is irrelevant)
Forget the Sun, pt. 1
yondaime x kakashi, naruto x sasuke, others
"Who are you?" It was the same question every day.
The man sitting beside the window smiled; the gaps in his teeth screamed for attention. Damn the person who ruined that beautiful face. "I like visitors. I don't get many."
"I know. That would be my fault. I'm sorry."
He was still smiling, but it was tense around the corners, folding in on itself. He couldn't keep up the forced levity. "You've told me that before. I've forgotten again, haven't I?"
"And..." The man stood, crossing the room with his now familiar limp-step-limp. "...you were someone...I wanted to remember...right?"
"Y-yes." There was no unvoiced sob wrapped around the word, he lied to himself. "Yes, I would like to think so."
Stopping just before him, the man's shaking hand reached up to touch his cheek. "Son?" He hesitated before moving on. "Brother, cousin, friend, uncle, nephew..."
"No." The same questions, every time, and yet it hurt, again, every time. It hurt to see him like this. But he couldn't... "Just an idiot who doesn't know when to give up on you."
The other man's smile was sad when he whispered, "Lover, then."
Kakashi wondered if he'd have another fit this time or if he would slip into catatonia again. A whimsical part of his brain, thought long dead, allowed the briefest moment of hope to surface, that he would suddenly remember and...
"No, I don't know you." The others voice was strained, and he let his hand drop from Kakashi's cheek. "I don't know anything."
Slender, pale fingers slid through dirty, stringy blond hair, and Kakashi whispered, "I'm sorry."
The man threw a punch, missed, yelled, "Stop it!! You keep saying that! As if it was your fault that I can't--"
Every time he threw a punch and missed, Kakashi's heart broke a little more. "I must go." He disappeared in a puff of smoke.
The other man stared at the spot. Some part of his brain knew this conversation occurred daily. The man with soft silver hair--hair he had wanted to touch, cheeks he had been tempted to caress for all of his not knowing him at all--he was kind to return day after day, knowing he wouldn't be remembered. Minato--who didn't really think of himself by the name written on his hospital charts and seemed to feel he should be called Obito or Sakumo or Sensei--he realized perhaps it was a way to gauge his own character, if such a man could remain so devoted.
It was the thought that finally pushed him over the edge. There was always something, and somehow, he knew it as he slid to the floor, to his knees, head hanging in defeat before slumping onto his side.
The man known as Minato, though he had forgotten it again along with the silver haired man's face and the passage of time, lay in bed with his eyes closed. Instinct told him not to move, and he wondered if it was another part of his old life, these infallible instincts. His body seemed fit, muscled, strong. Though the damage was considerable, he was expected to make a full physical recovery for what good it would do him.
There were voices in his room. The higher pitched was too loud, the deeper one too low, and he found himself alternately straining and cringing at the sound of failed whispering beside the bed.
"He'll remember me this time, I'm sure. How can you not remember your own son!?"
"You know he won't."
The deeper voice remained silent, the higher one mumbled things under its owner's breath. Minato almost opened his eyes, but paused when the deeper one spoke again, more quietly.
"Are you okay?" There was a tenderness in the tone that hadn't been there before. The other must have nodded because he continued, "Just...making sure." Minato smiled in his 'sleep' and wondered if the boy called Sasuke was the others boyfriend. And that one claimed to be his own son...
"Hey, he's smiling! Must be having a good dream!"
"Nooo, gah! Don't say things like that!"
"You know the kinds of things they do. You walked in on them that one time, didn't you?" The question was laced with amusement.
"But I don't want to think about that kind of thing. I mean, they're..." He whispered something that sounded distinctly like 'old.'
At this, Minato sat up. "I'm not old...am I?" He snatched his chart from the table beside the bed. "Forty-five. That's not old."
"It's old." The dark haired boy was scowling, obviously hiding a crooked smile.
The blond--My son...--grinned and sat on the edge of the bed, waving a hand in front of Minato's face. "Dad, are you...there?"
"He's not an invalid, dobe," the one called 'Sasuke' said, but he did sit down behind 'Naruto' on the edge of the bed, a discreet hand resting on the young man's hip in offered reassurance.
Minato smiled again, but his eyes drifted toward the door. He was forgetting something important. Many things. "You're my son?"
"Yup!" Naruto bounced a little.
"Then, Kakashi is...your mother?"
Two pairs of eyes stared at the man in the bed.
And then one after the other, they broke into laughter. Even Sasuke, whom Minato doubted was prone to laughter, was doubled over and leaning against his companion's back, which only fed Naruto's giggle fit.
Finally, flopping back onto the bed, defeated, Minato muttered, "I'm guessing not."
Naruto gasped a few times, and then forced himself to sober at the tone, looking at his father curiously with the hint of a smile still twisting his lips. "My mother died a long time ago. You know that." He received a slap on the back of the head from Sasuke, but shrugged off the admonishment and put his hand palm-down on the top of Minato's head, moving it, forcing the man to nod exaggeratedly as he reiterated, "You. Know. That. Don't you, Dad?"
And Minato desperately wanted it to be true, but when he brought his eyes up to meet the startling blue of the young man's before him, he found he couldn't lie. "I don't. And...I'm really tired now..."
The inevitable blackout a few seconds later cut off Naruto's reply. Sadly, he pulled his hand away and huffed a sigh that ruffled his father's hair. "Come on, Sasuke."
But Sasuke lingered a few seconds after Naruto was gone, discreetly examining the Hokage with his Sharingan and shaking his head.