“Kakashi, I love you,” he said in a low tired voice. It was the first time Kakashi had ever heard his father say something like that to him.
Kakashi had packed his lunch and was putting on his shoes to go to school. He gaped at Sakumo, the gears slowly turning in his head to process that one simple sentence. His chest felt warm. And then he gave a small smile under his mask and said, “I’ll be back soon. Tonight we’ll have roasted sanma.”
That was the last exchange he had with Sakumo before coming home to find him dead on the floor with a tanto stuck in his stomach.
“I swear to god,” the man says, and the words might be even, there might be a flower tucked behind his ear, but the spark in his eyes is very close to incandescent rage, “if you don’t have a book on flower language I’m going to murder my customers.”