A Warm Impression.


For Orionsprodigy95.

Prepare for fluff.


For Orionsprodigy95, who suggested this. For the first time in ages, Namikaze Minato was feeling nervous.

According to Jiraiya-sensei, visiting a student's parents wasn't that big of a deal. It was a formal visit at best, a sort of "hey, I'm sorry if I get your kid killed, but I'll do my best to stop that from happening," thing. That seemed plenty terrifying to Minato, and if he remembered correctly his own mother hadn't particularly appreciated that particular visit from Jiraiya, but Jiraiya's nonchalance had helped him calm his nerves a little.

Because the thing was, if Hatake Sakumo was anywhere near as terrifying as his five-year-old son (magnified by thirty odd years of fighting experience), Minato would rather be swallowed up by the sun than have to explain getting the kid injured.

Just one week of acquaintance was enough to inform him that little Hatake Kakashi was many things, but normal wasn't one of them. The adjectives evil, brilliant, and brat had first come to mind, but the evil part Minato had buried after watching the boy stop mid-training to pet a nearby dog.

The brat part was still firmly present.

Minato swallowed past the lump in his throat. At his side, Kakashi was looking perfectly harmless. He was small for his age, with large dark eyes and a frankly rather adorable face (though Minato had learned early on that commenting on said face was a bad idea). There was also the hair, which… Well, Minato could empathize.

As for the boy's character, well… That's where the problems began. Right now, as they strode through Konoha's streets, at a remarkable speed given that one half of their party barely reached past Minato's hips, Kakashi was pouting. The reason for his upset was also the reason Minato was upset: the little sling that kept his freshly injured arm tucked against his chest.

The boy had gotten over the shock of the fall pretty quickly, and had also decided that the brand-new experience of feeling pain was "pointless, really", after which he had come to the conclusion that the only thing left to do was to be disappointed in his body's tendency to break when strained.

Trying to explain to him that this was a natural thing that happened to everyone, and he really couldn't blame himself, had just resulted in a deeper frown.

Which, for just a moment, had made Minato wonder whether the boy had other reasons to be angry. A disappointed parent, perhaps?

Hatake Sakumo, Jiraiya-sensei had said, was a little bit mad. Only in the good sense, of course; he was the kind of mad you'd want at your back. It was supposed to be reassuring, but it didn't really help.

Neither did Kushina's refusal to explain how Sakumo had once tested her and her genin team (in a way that involved dogs, an inexplicable amount of yarn, and some kind of romance novel belonging to Sakumo's wife; how exactly that constituted a good genin test, Minato wasn't sure, but the horrified look on Kushina's face lingered). She'd laughed at him this morning, when he'd asked, and given him one of those affectionate looks she liked to give him when she thought he was being particularly stupid.

"Sakumo-sensei is a good egg. He won't eat you alive, so long as you behave," she'd said.

They hadn't exactly covered what the man might do in case of child-related emergency, though.

"Is it much further?" He asked Kakashi.

The boy looked up from where he'd been staring at the street to kick at every nearby pebble. "It's near the wall, next to the Koi Park. Why, are you getting tired?" The last he said in a particularly challenging tone, as though Minato was the injured five-year-old who'd just gone through chakra surgery.

Minato gave him an awkward smile and decided the best step forward was to just ignore any and all aggravating remarks. "Are you sure your dad will be home yet?"

Kakashi nodded. His fringe had a habit of slipping in front of his eyes whenever he did, and he wiped at it impatiently with his good hand. "He came back last night, from his mission. It was a big mission," he added, peering up at Minato with calculating eyes to see if his response was appropriately impressed.

"I bet he aced it," Minato said obligingly.

The frown finally cleared up a little. "Of course. He always does," the boy said, with the kind of surety only a child who has never been disappointed by their parent could possess.

Another tally for the 'Hatake Sakumo is probably, most likely, indubitably, a Doting Father' camp. Which, under any other circumstances, would have pleased Minato greatly. As far as he could tell, Kakashi didn't have a lot of friends his own age, but at least he had his father in his corner.

For beating up inexperienced seventeen-year-old jonin sensei's, for example. There were times when being the youngest jonin sensei in the village was fun, and then there were times when it just made him feel very, very small. Such as when he had to tell a living legend that his only child had been injured while under Minato's supervision.

Not that it had actually been Minato's fault, but he couldn't be sure Kakashi wouldn't openly blame him. The boy was already sneakier than most shinobi ever managed to become.

A small hand grabbed his own, and he looked down startled. Kakashi was pointing at a lane that disappeared into the park. "I know a shortcut," the boy said, and dragged him along.

At some point during this day, Minato would surely have to accept his certain doom, but this wasn't it. He swallowed again, and wondered why his mouth felt so dry. For all he knew, Sakumo was a perfectly reasonable human being who would understand it hadn't been anyone's fault at all. Except of course, but Sakumo was an experienced Konoha jonin, and all experienced Konoha jonin were certifiably insane. Particularly those of Jiraiya-sensei's generation, which Sakumo more or less was, give or take a few years.

Kakashi led him to a quieter section of the park, and then past a series of huge oak trees which likely dated back to Shodaime's time. Behind it, just past the tree line, sat a middling sized house built in the traditional style, with a porch out front and a small stone garden. There was a large dog on the porch, which gave away its owner's identity.

"Hime!" Kakashi sighed, and smiled for the first time since his accident. He stretched out his healthy arm and the dog came running. She was a large mutt of some sort, with the fluffy muscular body of an Akita, and the broad, intelligent face of a shepherd. Her coat was thick and white, with creamy yellow and slight gray mixed through in pale patterns.

Judging by the clear intelligence in her eyes, she was a summons, but for Kakashi she was perfectly willing to play the big, fluffy pet who tried to lick his face and bowl him over. The boy was practically sitting on her back before she suddenly whined and sniffed at his injured arm. Worse still, she followed it up with an accusing look aimed at Minato.

Kakashi made an exasperated groaning sound that made him sound more like an annoyed teenager than someone barely out of toddlerhood, and pushed away from the dog to go to the porch. "I'm fine!"

Inside the house, a large chakra signature stirred. It felt a lot like Kakashi's, but where Kakashi's was adorably small and prickly (if one ignored the fact that he had a developed signature at all, which was unheard of at his age), Hatake Sakumo's was huge and looming.

Minato pulled his shoulder blades together and tried not to let his own chakra fire up in instinctive defense. Sakumo's chakra was big, yes, but it had the calm, slow feeling of someone who was still waking up.

He came home last night, huh? This had probably been the only moment in the day Sakumo had to catch up on some sleep. Minato's vaguely guilty feeling grew stronger.

Kakashi led him up the porch and into the hallway, where Minato helped him take off his boots. By then, Sakumo's chakra was neatly pushed down and back into shape, as most top-level shinobi did while in company.

"Is that my son? Are you home already?" A deep voice said, and then the man Minato had been dreading for the last two hours appeared around the corner wearing only sweatpants and an old tank top. His hair was still down, but as he spoke he pulled it up into a loose tail.

"Dad. I broke my arm," Kakashi said promptly.

Sakumo froze mid-movement, one hand still up and in his hair, the other hanging awkwardly next to his head. "Broke it?" Sakumo repeated, and glanced from his son to the dog and back.

"He didn't tell me it could do that," Kakashi said, and pointed directly at Minato.

If there was ever a time Minato had wished he could use earth style to dig himself a neat little hole, this was it. He stood frozen on the spot as both dog and man turned to look at him. If Kakashi had been Tsunade's or Kushina's child, they'd probably have beaten him until he cried. If he'd been Sandaime's, Minato would probably have been subjected to the most disappointed look known to man.

"Oh, is that so? I seem to remember telling you bones can break, myself," Hatake Sakumo said, putting his hands in his side and looking down at his boy. After a moment he smiled, and then bent through his knees to inspect the offending arm. "Did it hurt very much?" At his side, the dog pawed at Sakumo's thigh and made a keening sound.

Minato held his breath. That... Was not the response he had expected.

As he watched, Sakumo touched his son's shoulders with big, reassuring hands, and brushed a thumb across the boy's cheek. "Did you try that double corkscrew with the doton jutsu again?" He asked calmly.

Kakashi turned his head to avoid his father's case abruptly. "No," he said defensively.

Sakumo raised his eyebrows lightly. "Kakashi..."

There was the disappointed look Minato had have been expecting, aimed full-force at the little boy.

Kakashi fidgeted. His lower lip wobbled a little, and then he suddenly nodded.

Sakumo sighed with what Minato suspected was just a bit of theatricality, and shook his head in mock disappointment. "I told you to wait until you were bigger. What am I to do with you?"

Kakashi bent his head far enough that his chin nearly touched his chest. "I'm sorry," he said, in the smallest voice Minato had ever heard him use.

Sakumo sighed again. "Thank you. I'm glad you're okay. Now, go inside and greet your mother."

Kakashi nodded frantically and ran past his father, his bare feet padding quickly across the wooden floor.

Sakumo righted himself and offered Minato a tired little smile. Minato could suddenly see the clear exhaustion in the line of his shoulders, and the heaviness of his eyes. "Quite the handful, isn't he?" Sakumo said.

Minato's spine went rigid. He felt his seventeen years of age very keenly all of a sudden. Things had been perfectly all right when Sakumo's attention has been focused on the boy, but now it was focused on him. Here Minato was, in the White Fang's own home, speaking to the living legend himself. "Yes sir, definitely sir," he blurted out.

Sakumo laughed. "Namikaze Minato-kun, isn't it? Don't worry, I know my son. He's very good at getting himself into trouble. I take it you took him to see a medic?"

Minato slowly unfroze. Sakumo… Didn't blame him? "The hospital. The medics said there was a small fraction into his ulna bone, but she healed it on the spot… Young bones fuse easily, she said," he trailed off.

Sakumo nodded knowingly. "A week's rest, I take it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Please, call me Sakumo. Or Sakumo-san, if you insist on being so formal," Sakumo said, smiling, and beckoned him into the living room.

It was a rather nice room, as traditional as the outside of the house, but cozy and well cared for. It was the kind of house that was obviously filled with love. And, as it turned out, a surprising amount of books, scattered across the room in piles and stacks and unsorted bookcases.

Kakashi was sitting on his knees in front of a small shrine to the left, a butsudan, head bowed reverently. Aside from the usual objects found on a shrine of that kind, it held a framed photograph of a dark-haired woman. Before Minato could see it properly, Kakashi had already gotten off his knees and was running towards the kitchen, probably to get something to eat.

Minato's eyes automatically returned to the picture, as though drawn by magnets. The woman was beautiful, with familiar sleepy gray eyes and a birthmark on her cheek, although her nose looked like it had been broken at some point. More than anything, she looked happy, and far too young to be on top of a shrine.

When Minato looked away, he caught Sakumo giving him a sad smile. Renewed guilt shot through him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"

"it's okay, I don't mind. I wasn't sure whether you'd been told, but..." One corner of Sakumo's mouth tilted up, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He walked over to the shrine and brushed the back of his knuckles across the frame. "Four years ago, now. I try to keep the memory of her alive for him, but sometimes I think Kakashi doesn't quite understand."

"I'm sorry," Minato said again, more genuinely this time.

Sakumo shrugged. "I'll tell him more when he gets older. For now, she'll just be a warm impression in the house to him. Maybe that's enough." He smiled tightly and straightened up. "Speaking of warm impressions, I didn't mean to be so gloomy. Would you like to stay for dinner tonight? I would like to get to know you myself, after my son and Kushina have talked about you so much."

Minato went bright red. He stumbled over the words. "I – I'd be honored, thank you. Wait, they did?"

Some of the sadness left Sakumo's eyes as he laughed. "Neither of them will admit it to you, but you've left quite the impression. I've already caught Kakashi pretending to use that Rasengan of yours once. I'd quite like to see it myself."

The White Fang of Konoha wanted to see his brand-new jutsu. Minato felt a bit faint. "I could show you after dinner," he suggested weakly.

Sakumo laughed again and padded Minato's shoulder with enough force to make him wobble. In the kitchen, something crashed, and the distinct scent of things burning drifted in. Sakumo's face turned almost comically. "Kakashi – what did I tell you about playing with the stove?!" He shouted, and legged towards the kitchen.

Minato smiled faintly as he watched him go. Kakashi was a little weird, yes, but also adorable and promising and all kinds of interesting. His father, despite his fierce reputation, no longer felt like a cold and terrifying stranger.

Perhaps the dinner would be a little bit awkward, and maybe showing off his new jutsu afterwards was a bit much, but as Minato watched Sakumo pluck his son off of the countertop as the dog nipped around his knees, he had a feeling he wouldn't mind much.

His gaze drifted back towards the woman on the shrine, and it seemed to him her eyes suddenly held an amused sparkle. A warm impression? Yeah. I get that.


AN:

So this is completely cheesy and self-indulgent, but it was terribly fun to write these three being happy for once. If you like this, please let me know with a comment!

Notes:

This is loosely set in the Uneasy Lies the Head/Fool's Gold 'verse, check out my profile to find it!

I aged up Minato by two years for the sake of realism. Well, relative realism anyway.

The idea that Kushina was Sakumo student comes from Silvershine's brilliant The Girl From Whirlpool. Go check that story out if you haven't already! Sakumo's characterization was partially inspired by Blackkat's, whose Sakumo is wonderful and warm and good.

A butsudan is part of Japanese buddhist culture. I'm not sure Kakashi would be actively religious, but I wanted to add a cultural element here. Try looking it up!