Kakashi Hatake had finished testing the three brats he’d been assigned. The last Uchiha, the kunoichi who obsessed over the Uchiha, and...his Sensei’s son, Naruto Uzumaki. His “thousand-years-of-death” jutsu was more than enough to take care of the blond, who brought back too many memories, looked too much like Minato for him to handle it without breaking down(or so he told himself as an excuse every time the prospect of adoption was ever brought up). He knew he could’ve done more, but honestly, on the day the Kyuubi attacked he hadn’t been close enough to interfere. He’d been a shell of himself back then, a recent ANBU graduate jaded by years of obedience and bloodshed, and hadn’t felt a thing after the sealing was done.
He was in no position to fight for the boy. Didn’t want that burden hanging over his shoulder, the burden of proof that he could’ve easily done much more to help out his former Sensei but never did. So he gave up and stayed far away from Naruto Uzumaki, because he felt there was no point. On this day, he was alone. Nobody else was around, as far as he could tell. Kakashi was drunk, senses filled by booze and too much work, but he didn’t stagger too much as he walked down the street, not wanting to paint a target on his back. He didn’t realize that someone was, in fact, waiting for him to be alone...
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