"Dioooos está aquí, está aquí…"
When you sing, you pray twice. Mommy taught me that.
"Tan cierto como el aire que respirooo…"
I was a good person, a good neighbor. I followed you blindly.
"Tan cierto como en la mañana se levanta el sol…"
I liked to sing, hoping you would listen.
"Tan cierto que cuando le hablo…"
But Lord, I ask you, why? Please, answer this one question.
"Tú me puedes oír."
WHY. DID. YOU. LET. THEM. DIE.???!!!
_ ____ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ __ _ _ _
"Hey, kiddo, you alright?"
Sora turned his head and saw an uncertain Sakumo kneeling beside him.
"I'm alright, Hatake-sama," he said, quickly suppressing the memories that threatened to resurface.
"Drop the 'Hatake,' kid. I'm already dead; I don't care for fancy titles. Call me Sakumo, or Uncle Sakumo."
"Okay, Sakumo," Sora replied confidently. After all, back in his own country, honorifics like -san, -sama, or -kun had never been used.
They both sat in silence, gazing at the Sakura tree before them.
"So?" Sakumo murmured.
"So what?" Sora tilted his head slightly.
"Mind telling me what happened?"
Sora looked into Sakumo's eyes, debating whether to speak or not.
"I died once," he finally said, his voice cold.
"I died once, and I still don't know why I'm here or what I'm supposed to do."
Sakumo remained quiet, listening.
"And sometimes, when I'm alone… a part of me wants it to happen again." Sora's eyes darkened with detachment. "Just to see if I can go back home."
Sakumo held his gaze, understanding flickering in his expression.
"What's tying you here?" he asked.
An internal battle raged in Sora's mind before he gave his answer.
"Itachi."
"My ka-san and tou-san are shinobi. They were trained for this life. They've killed, stolen, and lied,they accepted it long ago. But Itachi… he hasn't. Not yet."
The sun above could do nothing to warm the cold weight of their conversation.
"And even when he becomes a shinobi, because he's that good, I can't imagine the suffering it will bring him. The guilt, the pain… the crushing expectations that will weigh on his shoulders. I just can't bring myself to do it."
Sakumo listened in silence.
"So, love, huh?" he finally asked.
"Yes," Sora answered, smiling brightly, as if the very thought of his brother gave him strength.
Sakumo observed the boy, so full of life despite the burden he carried. The air around them seemed a little warmer now.
With a sigh, Sakumo asked.
"Ever wondered what the dead have to say?"
"Be my guest" Sora replied.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ - _ - _
I was born into a legacy of soil and steel.
The Hatake were never great lords nor renowned warriors. We were farmers first, simple folk who tilled the land of the Iron Country, our hands more familiar with plows than with blades.
But when war came to our doorstep, we did what we had to. We took up swords to defend what was ours. And when the dust finally settled, we had spilled enough blood to be called warriors.
Honor dictated that we repay the lord who had granted us his protection. So we swore fealty for that pure word.
But politics, treachery, and ambition… they are far deadlier than any blade.
When the coup came, we were nothing but pawns. Disposable. We chose the losing side, protecting our lady, and with that, we sealed our fate. Those of us who survived fled to the Land of Fire, where only the Uchiha extended a hand.
There, we became their vassals, our numbers dwindling with each clash against other ninja clans, our traditions fading.
Then Konoha was founded.
A new age.
A new chance for the husk that had once been the Hatake clan.
But we did not forget.
We kept the way of the sword, the way of the samurai, even as we became shinobi. We clung to honor, even when it no longer had a place in this new world.
For a time, I believed we could survive this way. That we could hold onto what made us Hatake, even in a village that only valued power and results.
Then, I had a son.
My wife died bringing him into the world, leaving me with a fragile, crying child and no idea how to care for him.
My hands, so used to gripping a blade, learned to hold something far more precious. I learned how to change diapers, how to soothe his cries, how to play with him.
Then the war came.
I fought fiercely, because I had to return. For him. For my son.
Somewhere along the way, I became the White Fang, a name feared by enemies, spoken alongside the Sannin.
But it was just that.
A name.
It meant nothing to me.
What mattered was the boy waiting for me at home.
War ended, life went on.
Then I was given a mission. And with it, a choice.
The village's success… or the lives of my comrades.
I chose my comrades. Because honor dictated that I could not leave them to die. Because I refused to let Konoha decide their lives were worth less than a mission.
And I was scorned for it.
They called me a traitor, their whispers growing into shouts. They said I had brought shame upon the village, that I had caused political unrest. Ha. I had been called worse before. I bore it all without regret.
But then I saw my son.
Kakashi. The boy who was always so bright, so talented… had begun hiding his face. First with an old scarf, then with a mask. He no longer met my eyes. He no longer walked beside me. He bore my name, my legacy, and for the first time, I thought that I had understood.
He was ashamed of it.
Ashamed of me.
The Hatake name had been dirtied, not by war or bloodshed, but by dishonor.
My survival had condemned my son to a life in the shadows, to a future where my shame would follow him everywhere. And I couldn't allow that.
So I made a choice.
A sacrifice, not for the village, not for honor
but for him.
For his future
Because I knew the Hokage would protect him, guide him to become the brightest ninja.
If my death could restore the Hatake name… if it could free Kakashi from the weight of my disgrace… then my path was clear.
This was the only way I thought I could protect him.
But…
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ - - _ -
"I was so wrong, Sora."
Sakumo looked at the boy beside him, eyes heavy with sorrow.
"I caused my son unimaginable pain. It destroyed him. It set him on a path of selfdestruction."
"Never make the same mistake I did," he continued. "I know how cruel those thoughts can be. How unrelenting they become when you're alone. But I also know…" He exhaled, voice thick with emotion. "I also know how wrong they are for those who are left behind"
Sora's breath hitched.
He had no words, only silent tears.
After a moment, he finally spoke.
"Do you want me to pass him a message?" Sora asked, voice raw with emotion.
Sakumo hesitated, then shook his head.
"It wouldn't be fair to him. He has a new life now… and I…" He let out a small, sad smile.
"I have so many crimes to atone for."
_____ _ - _ _ _- - _ _ _ _ _ _ _
A/N: So yeah that. The english translation to the song is:
God is here
As sure as the air I breathe
As sure as the sun rises in the morning
So sure that when I speak to him,
he can hear me.
I got a little bored writing about war stuff, so it will be done in a few chapies.
Have a nice day