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damien-wolfram-art · 9 months

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To be a Father

The air was biting and the wind wouldn’t let up. Sakumo could feel a light wriggling against his chest where his baby was pressed flush against him, taking in all the warmth his father could give to him. Kakashi had only been born a few months prior, but now it was early winter and his life was in danger.

Sakumo followed his nose, taking shelter in a nearby burrow that his trusty old white wolf, Ookami, had created as a den for him and his pack. “Sorry old pal. It looks like I’ll have to rely on you and the rest of the pack just one more night,” whispered the young man apologetically.

The new father produced his squirming bundle of leathers and furs topped with a few matching white wisps of hair from beneath his clothing. Ookami sniffed him twice and shared with Sakumo an accepting glance. With utmost care he took Kakashi from his father further into the den where he deposited him with one of the nursing females of the pack. She could take care of him.

The brief respite allowed Sakumo a rare moment to contemplate the events that had brought him to such a low. The Animal User hating paranoid Nohara played a sizable role in them, but Sakumo wanted to go further– to find something joyful in all his suffering. As Ookami returned to Sakumo’s side and rested his heavy head in his pack leader’s lap, Sakumo did just that. He went further.

Yuki was the first to recognize his worth in this world, so it was no surprise to him that when it came time for him to choose a mate, he chose her. He’d traveled with his pack for a long time before he found her. She had been traveling with the Senju in search of a new home. There were many who were skeptical of Animal Users, but Yuki was not one of them. She admired his skills, was enamored by Ookami, and supported him in the advocation of his people. They were wed during their travels.

When the Senju founded The Senju Village, there were many who traveled with them that wished to remain amongst their friendly travel companions. Thus, The Senju Village quickly became known simply as The Leaf Village for its dense temperate forests. Yuki had always dreamed of the day her nomadic life would end and when she would have a home of her own to settle down in so she jumped at the chance to stay with the Senju. Sakumo did as well.

Luckily for him, the Senju leader, Hashirama, was a hospitable man who welcomed all into his growing village. He had his vigilant younger brother, Tobirama, assessing each potential citizen. Sakumo was deemed not only benign, but beneficial to their settlement. Thus Sakumo began a humble and peaceful life with his wife there.

During this formative time for The Leaf Village, Hashirama proved just how gregarious and family oriented he could be. He encouraged many wandering clans to join them and held many jovial celebrations to mark their entries. The one that stood out most to Sakumo was a festival Hashirama aptly named: Matsurimara. He was determined to participate.

It began with a month of harai: ritual abstinence. Sakumo would’ve been lying if he said this part was easy. He had become quite intimate with Yuki. Her long snow white locks and slender curves called to him. They slept wrapped up in each other's arms nightly and there were mornings that the ache between his legs made it a struggle to pull himself away from her.

Somehow, Sakumo made it through the month. It was late December and the day of the matsuri was upon him. He woke before the sun that day and dressed warmly, knowing what would come next. It was a few hour’s walk to The Nakano River. He and a slew of hopeful men accompanied the Senju brothers upstream to a place where the water crashed down from a cliff. By now the sun had risen and the mist from the waterfall glistened, giving off a mystical aura.

Each man took his turn to remove his clothing and jump in. They bore the weight and temperature of the falls for as long as they could in a display of misogi: ritual bathing for purification. Upon entering the icy falls, Sakumo gasped involuntarily. He no longer felt any desire for his wife. He scrubbed himself vigorously in an attempt to warm himself even a little, but this was as fruitless as his shriveled manhood felt in the frigid deluge. He quickly lost feeling in his fingers and toes; it was then he knew he had to leave the water.

His breathing didn’t slow down until minutes after he was dry and reclothed. He watched patiently as the others, including the Senju brothers, finished their misogi. Then, the men trekked back to The Leaf Village.

Waiting for them were festivities unlike anything Sakumo had ever seen. While the men were away, their lovers had decorated the paths with elaborate colorful paper and bamboo trappings. There were offerings of sake and food surrounding many mikoshi shrines dedicated to various fertility kami with well known names such as, Inari.

The men then took up these shrines and for the next hour they paraded the kamis’ blessings around the village. The uplifting music and encouraging cheers of their partners convinced Sakumo and the other men to find the strength to persevere until it was time for the naorai feast. The mikoshi were returned to their places and the men finally sat down.

Nothing felt more gratifying to Sakumo that day than eating a large meal of delicious blessed offerings with his wife beside him. When they were satisfied and Hashirama had his fair share of sake, the true festivities began. The men who hadn’t had enough exercise, participated in feats of athleticism. There was also music and dance for several hours.

Late in the night, a slightly inebriated Hashirama called the festivities to a close with a wish of luck, prosperity, and most importantly fertility. Some stayed behind to assist with the cleaning efforts, but many, Sakumo included, went home to try out that luck. If Kakashi’s existence was anything, it was evidence of that luck.

Months later, he was holding his wife from behind and caressing the spot that held what she insisted was their unborn son.

“Since he is your son. What will you call him?” She asked him.

Sakumo never felt like a decision was more important. “Well,” he hesitated, thinking it over. “If I am the product of my parents, then I’m like the crops in the field. If you are the snow that blankets that field in winter, then I would very much like him to be the protector of that field. I’ll call him, Kakashi– our little scarecrow.”

A snowflake flitted in through the entrance of the burrow, wresting Sakumo from his thoughts when it landed on his cheek just below his left eye. Ookami lifted his head when Sakumo started. The man reciprocated his companion’s support with a heavy pat on the head and Ookami returned to his more relaxed state on his lap. “Yuki…” Sakumo whispered into the howling wind, “I know he is too young now, but one day, that boy will live up to his name.” He chuckled as a cutting wind chastised him. “I know you won’t make it easy for us. Fatherhood could never be so simple.”

He paused for another moment, forming his thoughts while breathing in his bitter-sweet reality. “Tell ya what, If we can make it through this Winter, I’ll be a real father and I’ll find us a real territory. Just like you wanted for him.”

Outside of the burrow, the storm began to calm.

@narutokinktober

@bitchbot3000

@anannua In case you wondered about Kakashi's origins.

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