A/N: I've always wanted to write about Kakashi and his father. I don't think their relationship, especially on Sakumo's part, is as appreciated as it needs to be. So this is my little tribute to them, in 742 words.

Limbo

It is cold.

The only light is from the bonfire in front of him, the flickering flames reflecting in his eyes and forehead protector, the light absorbed by the endless abyss of black. There is no start and there is no end in this darkness. It is always there, seeping into every pore of his body, filling his mind with images of regret—of what could be, of what was, of what, of whom, he left behind.

It is enough to drive a man mad.

There is no time in this darkness, no indication of night or day, month or date. And yet, in his heart, he knows exactly how long it has been.

Twenty-five years.

But he knows, that for him—for the boy, for his son—it is too soon.

"Is that you, Kakashi?"

His voice echoes in the abyss. Oh, how he wants to see him, hold him, tell him he's sorry, but then he realizes that maybe his son doesn't want that. That he's grown, that he's no longer the little boy with the scarf that he remembers him as.

That he left him alone and that he doesn't need him.

"So, this is where you've been."

His voice—it's much deeper and much more mature, but in his mind he remembers his tinny voice as a child. And when he walks to the fire and sits by him, even though he's grown and his face is longer and his left eye is covered and he is bigger and stronger, all he can see is his little boy, ready to tell the tales of his adventures at the Academy.

His little boy. He must've gone through so much while he was gone. "Will you tell me about yourself?"

There is a silence, but he does not mind. It is different—much different—from the silences of the cave. It is these types of silences that he misses the most, the ones where he is with his son, the ones where they sit and think together.

"Sure." He feels his lips tug up in a smile. What a nostalgic feeling, the feel of your face in a smile. "But I want to tell you everything…it'll take a long time."

A long time...

He wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yeah. All right."

He sits and listens as his son tells him about the boy named Obito and the Sharingan, about the girl named Rin and the Isobu, about Minato-sensei and his wife Kushina, about the Kyuubi and the village and the boy Naruto, about the Uchiha massacre and the murderer Itachi and the lone survivor Sasuke, about the blooming kunoichi Sakura and the Godaime Tsunade, what he felt when he found him on the floor, how he suffered, what he is feeling, about how much he hated him, about how much he missed him, about how he loves him and forgives him, despite everything.

And when it is all said and done, a piercing green light envelops his son, and he knows, he definitely knows, it is too early for his son to die, he is too young, that he has a future.

"What's this?"

The light grows brighter and brighter, filling the void in the darkness and in his mind. "Seems it was too soon for you to come here. There must be something you're still meant to do."

"Father…"

The word fills his heart and his soul and he is warm and he feels whole, it is something he has waited so long for.

He looks at his boy, his little Kakashi, with all the gratitude he feels in his heart. "Thank you for forgiving me."

His little boy watches him with his one eye—an eye exactly like his own—as the light becomes so bright that he can't be seen. He smiles again, this time it's a full smile, a smile so radiant and bright that he feels alive as he watches his son return to the realm of the living.

"Now I can move on in peace…"

It grows and grows until the light finally vanishes, remnants of its existence falling in glints around him. He stands up and breathes his deepest breath in years, and when he looks past the fire he can see her, and she is there with open arms and eyes as kind and tender as the first day he saw them.

"…I'll finally be able to see your mother."