Chapter Text
“Have you taken an omega?”
Kakashi sat at one end of the table, and across the feast sat his father. Maids lined up by the door as the kitchen staff filtered in with more dishes, most of which would go to waste. They would finish some and pick at a few. The staff could have the leftovers, and the scraps after that would be split among the slaves. In a way, his father's grand display of wealth kept everyone fed.
Kakashi arched his brow, and one of the maids filled his untouched sake cup. “Rather forward of you, Father. And a bit rude.”
Across the table, Sakumo sighed. His back curled like a wilted flower, and he spared a soft word of thanks as the same maid poured him a drink.
It was no secret that Kakashi was getting older, as his father before him was a young twenty-one when he sired Kakashi. Now, pupless at twenty-seven, Kakashi made the clan nervous. They started offering him slaves by the time of his first rut, and he ignored them just as well. Then, as he aged, they grew more desperate. For the Hatake clan heir to not have an heir of his own… Well, it just wasn't done, so they said.
Now, with the elders breathing down his neck, Sakumo was pulled in to sway his wayward son.
“I understand if you have preferences,” Sakumo said, already halfway through his first cup of sake, the food untouched between them. “If you tell me, I can have my aide look for someone you might like.”
Kakashi dithered, pretending to consider the offer for longer than he had. “Mm… What about an alpha?” he teased. “I've wondered how it would feel to take a knot.”
So used to his whims, the staff schooled their faces in perfect neutrality. But the moment he and his father were out of sight, gossip would spread like a plague. By noon tomorrow, he was sure all of Kumo would be scandalized by this declaration. Maybe then, nobles would stop shoving omegas at him every chance they got.
Sakumo saw through him in an instant. He stared tiredly across the table and pinched the bridge of his nose, where he was no-doubt manifesting a Kakashi-shaped headache. “Kakashi, please,” he begged. “I'm not asking you to mate. But I'm getting on in years, and the elders are worried.”
Kakashi ignored the plea and picked up his chopsticks, sampling a bit of everything. The concerns of the elders weren't his, and he wasn't fond of omegas, as a whole. They were too… obedient. He didn't mind their submissive tendencies, and their scent was alluring, to be sure. Now and then, as he caught sight of them, his eyes would linger.
But he didn't want to bed a pretty face if that was all it had. Omegas were so rare to speak with an alpha present, and sometimes they felt like living dolls. He couldn't see the appeal outside of rut, and rut was such a miserable time that bedding one wouldn't be enjoyable.
Kakashi knew that one day, he would need to bring pups into the clan, especially if he wanted to take his father's place. But if he would keep an omega, it would be one chosen by him, on his own time, and by his own agency. He wouldn't fuck anything in heat just to further the Hatake clan’s lineage.
“Kakashi, please, look at me.”
Kakashi obeyed, he supposed, as he lifted his eyes and tilted his head.
“A member of the Ishi household will be visiting tomorrow evening with a selection of slaves he brought from Fire Country,” Sakumo said. Finally, he was starting to eat. Couldn't have been that upset, then. “I don't expect you to choose from them. But please, at least attend the showing. Pretend you're putting in the effort. For my sake.”
Kakashi smiled warmly and bowed his head. “Wouldn't miss it for the world.”
Sakumo looked at him, then, and requested an extra bottle of sake.
Kakashi hated politics, particularly when they involved playing friendly with a bunch of old men he wasn't fond of. The Ishi clan was one of the oldest in Kumo, dating as far back as the founding era. Because it held almost as much standing as the Hatake clan, manners were important, and he was lectured by his aide before he left.
Kumo was an unforgiving landscape high in the clouds. The air was thin, the breeze was strong, and the locals were hardier than most because of it. As he left his compound with his entourage for the Hatake clan’s main estate, he dismissed the idea of taking an omega from Ishi’s offering. Even if he were at all interested (which he was not), outsiders wouldn't fare well here. Altitude sickness was common among visitors, and anyone looking to stay long-term had to undergo chakra therapy. It could help acclimate foreigners to the thin atmosphere of the mountains, but it was a hassle, and too much of a drain to waste on some outlander slave.
Kumo was situated atop a vast expanse of platforms across the mountains of Lightning and connected by a series of swing bridges. The death toll among tourists was high because those without strength or dexterity tended to ignore caution. Kakashi could imagine taking an omega, only for them to fall to their death on the way to the compound.
He arrived at his clan’s grand hall, a stretch of long tables across old tatami mats, but the room felt hollow with only the clan head and the Ishi representative. They sat on floor cushions with more food than they could eat between them, and already Ishi was several minutes into stories of his travels. They shared words and drinks, and Kakashi took his place at his father's side. As agreed, he kept his manners, at least to Ishi’s face.
It was partway through dinner when Ishi ordered his staff to bring in the omegas, and one by one, they filtered into the room. They were bare, presenting their assets in full, and Kakashi didn't quite like it. It was a custom of foreign lands, one that didn’t make sense in a climate as harsh as Kumo’s. But the Ishi clan was fond of the custom, as they were proud of the calibre of slaves they produced. Theirs was the most well-known name in the field, at least here. But Kakashi didn't care what was beneath their clothes, and the sight made him lose his appetite. These omegas were not bred by the Ishi clan, and didn’t carry the healthy figures Ishi was known for. Bruises bloomed across their skin, proof that their last master was unkind, and it soured his meal.
Still. He had to feign interest, so he watched as they came in with their chakra collar bindings, their handcuffs, their nudity, smiling as Ishi regaled him with the charms of each slave, as though every omega had a story.
But at the end of the line, one caught his eye, not because they were beautiful or charming. A damaged male stood farthest from the table. He was a veteran, no doubt, as half of his body was covered in scars. His right arm stopped at the shoulder. In place of his right leg, he had a strange contraption that Kakashi would hardly call a prosthetic. It looked to be a hodgepodge of scrap metal and wood, and there seemed to be a spring mechanism in the ankle to absorb impact. But it was either too short or too long, and the omega limped heavily with each step, the spring old and creaking with the shifting of his weight.
His eyes were lovely, however. A bright, eerie red. And behind his lips, Kakashi caught the edge of the sharp teeth common to many of the clans in Kiri. This one had come far.
“This lovely dear is known for birthing twins,” Ishi supplied unhelpfully as he gestured to the omega girl behind him, third in the row. “I must say, she would solve your issue quickly, my lord, and provide you with plenty of heirs.”
“She’s quite charming,” Sakumo agreed, ever the picture of politeness. To Kakashi, it couldn't be more obvious how little his father wanted to be there.
As his elders conversed casually about the benefits of these omegas, Kakashi scented the air. One of them was in heat, most likely the girl, as the scent was strong, and she was closest to him.
But Kakashi smelled blood. He thought it was coming from the strange one at the end. The one who kept his eyes forward, and his teeth clenched.
Father turned to him. “Well, Kakashi? What do you say? There's a fine selection.” Clearly, he hadn't noticed the one at the end. Kakashi would have been surprised if his father looked at them at all.
The ten bodies against the wall squirmed beneath his gaze, all but the war slave who kept drawing Kakashi’s eye. Something came over him. He wondered how his father would react if he mated that strange man. Not that he would do so simply to get a rise out of someone, but he did love the thought of leaving the clan elders scandalized when he finally took an omega.
“That one,” he said, pointing lazily at the broken body he’d been ogling. “I'm quite struck by him. He's… unique.”
Sakumo followed his hand, and briefly, something sour floated beneath the pleasant scents of their meal. He saw the moment his father noticed the poor creature, and the way grey eyes flitted across the purple-greens of pale skin. “Ishi,” he bellowed, and the pleasantries were gone from his voice, “what is this?”
Ishi jumped. Ah yes, it was always fun to watch the change in people as they learned to fear the White Fang. A displeased clan head was a sad thing, indeed. “O-oh, my lord, you needn't worry about that one. He isn't presentable, of course. I acquired him only days ago from a slaver I passed along the border, looking to be rid of him… As I came straight to our meeting when I returned to Kumo, I have not yet had a chance to house him with the rest of the stock. Please, do not mind him.”
“You don't listen well,” Sakumo said. “My son showed interest. Will you ignore him, Ishi?”
Ishi looked between the frowning White Fang and his smiling son, and shrank. He beckoned the war slave over, but the omega didn't move, his eyes still on the wall across from him. Finally, another slave gave him a nudge, and he seemed to notice the others in the room.
His eyes found Sakumo, then Kakashi, and slowly, he dragged himself over. With each step, his makeshift leg screeched an awful noise as the mechanism depressed beneath his weight. Then, coming up next to his current owner, Ishi’s hand pressed against his hip.
“This one is in rather rough shape, Lord Kakashi,” he admitted honestly. “I'm not sure of his history, but you're right in that he must have quite the story.”
Kakashi's eyes followed the contours of the slave’s body. The scar tissue around the right shoulder reminded him of the burn pattern of a paper bomb, one with considerable power.
“He's old stock, thirty now, and I'm not sure if he's carried before. But his eyes are unique. I've been in the field long enough to know they may belong to a bloodline.”
“Interesting,” Kakashi said, and found he wasn't lying. “May I?”
Ishi bowed his head. “Of course.”
Kakashi stood up and rounded the table, walking down the line of omegas. He pretended to look at all of them, but only stopped at the red-eyed one grimacing next to Ishi. He smiled, and the omega looked at him with a curled lip, but didn't speak. Fiery.
As Kakashi drew up in front of him, he couldn't mistake the iron tang rising off the man.
“Turn,” he commanded, and the omega obeyed after another nudge. His back was bursting with just as much colour as the rest of him, but there were no open wounds.
The omega faced forward once more, and there was defiance in those eyes.
Kakashi smiled, a short burst of green chakra burning away the bacteria on his fingers. “Excuse me,” he whispered, loud enough only for the omega to hear.
Kakashi pressed two fingers between the omega’s legs, then deeper, into his entrance. The omega hissed and drew back, his leg creaking beneath him, and Kakashi wasn’t able to feel for damage. But as he pulled back his hand, he pressed his fingers together, sticky and coated thinly in red.
He spun around to face Ishi and his father with a crescent-eyed smile. “Yes, I'm quite taken. How much would you like for him?”
Ishi’s eyes widened and he raised placating hands. “Oh, no, my lord, I could never—the honour of your choice is more than enough,” he said. Then he side-eyed the omega. “But… are you sure? That one is quite… damaged, and I hear he's not well-behaved. I would hate for him to give you trouble.”
“That's fine,” Kakashi said. “I'm fond of challenges.”
Sakumo gave him a suspicious look.
“In fact, I'm quite excited. Father, would you mind terribly if I left early? I would like to make my omega presentable.”
Sakumo could smell the blood on his fingers, his eyes drifting to them even after Kakashi hid them behind his back. There was no hiding anything from the White Fang. “You may. I'm surprised by your choice, but so long as you're happy, my boy.”
“I am.” Kakashi turned to his aide, who stood by the door. “Tenzō, would you pack away the leftovers when they're done? I'm still quite hungry, and the meal is wonderful.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Two of the kitchen staff overheard as they brought in more dishes, and as they left, he saw them whispering excitedly between one another. Well, at least he made someone’s night a little better.
“Thank you,” Kakashi said with a bow. “Your gift is most generous, Lord Ishi.”
“Of course! I hope he serves you well, my lord.”
Kakashi glanced over his shoulder at the omega, red eyes watching him confusedly. “Come,” he commanded. “It's time we leave.”
Kakashi walked to the door, only to find his new slave wasn't following. One of the other omegas prodded him again, and he looked back at her. She nodded to Kakashi, and the omega took a few more moments before he started following. He was out of his depth, as though he hadn't realized he'd been sold.
Once they were out of the room, the omega followed well enough. He stuck close to Kakashi until they reunited with the last of his entourage on the main floor, and Kakashi smiled at his staff’s confusion.
“I seem to have acquired an omega,” he explained, rubbing the back of his head. They all gave him looks, knowing full-well he was acting on a whim. “He's not faring well, so I ask that you mind him on the journey home. Help him walk, if you can, especially across the bridge.”
They bowed, and he could trust them not to let their new companion fall into the ether. His attendants had been with him for a long time, and they knew to look after one another.
“Tenzō will join us later,” he added when they looked around.
When they got outside, he sighed. They had no clothes to offer the omega, and winter still clung to the mountaintops. Fresh snow bloomed across Kumo's platforms, and he knew that the omega must have been guided through it naked on the way up, as well. At least if they rushed it, it was only a ten-minute walk to his compound. They could mend the damage when they were home. Silver lining: the omega was missing a third of his body, so there was a third less frostbite to worry about, he supposed?
It was snowing, and the omega’s body chattered beneath it, so Kakashi gave up his coat to wrap around his new slave's body. Kakashi was used to the harsh climate of Kumo, and the cold didn't bother him the way it would a foreigner, let alone one from Kiri, which tended to keep a warm temperature most of the year.
When they arrived at the compound, he asked one of his attendants to draw a bath. His main building was on the far left, a series of private rooms with a bath and a courtyard, not that the gardens were much to look at this time of year. Unless requested, the staff kept out of the eastern wing, so he supposed it would be best to have a look at the omega in there.
One of the maids opened the door for them, bowing as he and his omega passed her by, and soon, they were alone. They continued into the bedroom, as it was the warmest place in the compound, and he figured it would make these next uncomfortable steps a little more bearable.
Kakashi turned on the omega, an image of red skin and muted shivering. Omegas were always quiet, but with the caution Ishi gave him, he expected a few words, at least, or a growl.
“On the bed,” he commanded, and the omega did not move. Kakashi scratched his head, wondering what to do about this. “Can you not hear me? My, you’ve been through it, haven’t you?”
Waving his hand to draw the omega’s attention, Kakashi pointed to the bed, and hesitantly, the omega complied. Kakashi took the coat from him, and a single desperate hand reached for it again as it was hung up by the door. The omega balled himself up to keep warm, even though there were perfectly good sheets he could use, and Kakashi sighed. He stood by the bed and wrapped his comforter around the omega’s shoulders. The omega drew his brows together, looking at Kakashi like he was something of an oddity, himself, and latched onto the ends with his hand.
Kakashi knelt on the bed and carefully looked over the omega’s skin first. The angry red patches were from the cold, but fortunately, they managed to avoid frostbite, even on the bottom of his foot. It still must have stung, though. They would deal with that later.
The closer he drew, the further the omega pressed up against the headboard. It made him feel like a monster, and Kakashi sighed.
“Maa, I’m not sure how best to explain this to you,” he said uselessly. How would he explain to a deaf omega that he wanted to check for injuries?
Awkwardly, he put his hands together, then separated them. The omega looked at him like he had three heads.
“Your legs,” he said, and touched the crude prosthetic. “Or, your leg and this thing. You’re bleeding, and I need to find out why, but I don’t want to scare you.”
The omega didn’t seem to get it, but as Kakashi gently nudged his flesh leg, he hesitantly pulled it back. He didn’t have the dexterity to do that with the iron-and-wood contraption attached to his hip, so Kakashi reached up to unlock one of the straps securing it.
The omega kicked out at him and bared his teeth.
Kakashi scratched his head. “Well, I suppose removing it is scary for you, as without it, you can’t walk…” But it was filthy, old, splintering, loud, and useless. If Kakashi had any say, he’d see it burned. “I’ll get you an assistant?” He wasn’t sure. The staff could outright refuse him, as assisting a slave would be considered an insult, even if that slave happened to be their lord’s omega. Should he get a slave for his slave, then? Had that been done before?
No wonder the slaver was practically giving him away.
Kakashi reached for the strap again, and the omega’s eyes squeezed shut. But there was no threat, only fear, and the latch on the strap came apart easily. There was a second and third around the leg, and one over his shoulder to keep it secure. Once those came free, the prosthetic pulled away easily. Against his natural instinct to burn the thing over an open flame, Kakashi rested it carefully against the wall, being sure the omega watched him, and some of the tension eased as the leg was still within arm’s reach.
The residual limb ended after the hip joint, and the skin was rubbed raw and painful-looking from a poorly fitted, badly designed prosthetic. Kakashi could do something about that, especially the friction blisters forming there, but it, too, would wait.
Using the same low-tier medical jutsu as before, Kakashi disinfected his hands, then the omega’s crotch and leg, and pressed two fingers inside the omega. The omega’s toes curled, his head hit back against the headboard, and he hissed between clenched teeth.
“Hm.”
There was some pretty nasty vaginal tearing, and it seemed that the wound may have tried to seal but reopened. He was swollen, too. The bleeding was heavy considering the injury, and Kakashi pulled back, grimacing at the feel of blood on his hand. He wiped the filth away on a towel he brought over and mentally ran through the best suited medical ninjutsu in his repertoire. Soon, his hand hovered over the damage, and a soft, warm glow filled the space between them. As seconds became minutes, the omega opened his eyes and watched Kakashi work. The tension eased in his muscles, and he slumped back against the headboard like a puppet with cut strings.
The omega’s hand snaked out from beneath the blanket and, hesitantly, poked Kakashi’s finger. He drew back like he’d been burned, waited for punishment that never came, and then tried again.
Kakashi watched him fondly. “Is this your first experience with medical ninjutsu?” he asked. Even if the omega couldn’t hear him, he watched Kakashi’s mouth move. Maybe he couldn’t understand the words, but he tried. “I suppose Kiri wouldn’t waste chakra on omegas. I can seal it up for now, but I’ll bring in a proper medic to assess you soon.”
Twelve minutes in, Kakashi pulled back, once more requesting the omega to open up. This time, he complied easily. It looked like he’d successfully closed the wounds, and the blood he found there was residual. Kakashi had good chakra control, but it wasn’t impressive enough to go beyond this.
After that, Kakashi moved onto the omega’s residual limb, where the prosthetic had caused damage. Though he used a different jutsu for this injury, the same green glow filled the air, and the omega sat up to watch. His eyes were bright now, his curiosity sparked.
“I wonder what your chakra control is like,” Kakashi mused. “I heard Kiri sent less desirable omegas into battle during the war, but I can’t imagine they trained you well.”
With the worst of the damage healed, the omega scratched at it. The irritation probably remained, and they’d have to keep that prosthetic off (forever) until the redness went away, at least.
Kakashi pulled back, his arms falling to his knees. “How do you feel?”
But of course, there was no answer.
There was a knock on the door, and he looked up. Beyond the bedroom’s paper walls, he made out the silhouette of one of the maids. She bowed.
“Your bath is ready, my lord.”
“Right,” he said. “Thank you.”
Kakashi got up off the bed and turned back to the omega… and remembered that this man had one leg. Kakashi refused to let him use the prosthetic for now (forever). He scratched his head, wondering how his ladies in waiting would take a request to relocate this man… Not well, probably. The omega bristled whenever someone touched him, stank to the Pure Lands, and wasn’t much to look at.
As the eldest son of the White Fang and heir to the Hatake clan, Kakashi had an image to maintain, not that he cared.
“Seoyu,” he called, “could you ask the staff over to Father’s wing for now?”
“Of course, my lord.”
“Much obliged.”
He heard the soft patter of slippered feet scurry away, and the hall was quiet. Kakashi bent down before the bed while the omega watched. He tucked one arm beneath the omega’s, the other around the man’s side, and pulled him up.
The kicking and flailing, Kakashi expected.
The teeth on his ear, he didn’t.
Kakashi drew back quickly, but if he let go now, the omega would fall, so he held on even as the side of his head lit up with pain. Eventually, the omega let him go, long after the damage was done, and soon, he felt a tongue lapping at the beads of blood there.
Mildly disgusting. Kakashi kept his thoughts to himself.
He shifted the weight in his arms so that he could slide open the door to the hall, and directly across from his room was the shower room which connected to a private bath. He set the omega down on a shower stool and once more resisted the urge to get his slave an assistant. Well, he used to help bathe his little siblings. It shouldn’t be too hard.
The omega looked at him tensely, as though Kakashi would beat him in thanks for the bleeding ear. Which, of course not. But he did settle the omega beneath a disappointing glare.
Well, these things happened, Kakashi supposed. Maybe his father also got bit by his first omega.
Kakashi had a preference for scentless soaps and shampoos, so he fetched a few from the ledge and tested the heat of the shower head. Once it was warm but not hot, he directed it at the omega, whose lip curled as the spray hit his face.
Kakashi blinked innocently. Revenge didn’t always show up in violence, and passive-aggression was satisfying enough.
He pulled up a second stool and handed the omega a lathered sponge to clean his body, while Kakashi sat behind him and dealt with his hair. It felt disgusting, honestly, caked in grime from a long journey and weeks outside. Sweat matted it to the omega’s head, and the way it peeled from his skin had Kakashi cringing. He didn’t usually touch dirty things, not while inside the village. Watching the murky water disappear down the drain in the centre of the room was cathartic, though. Whatever this omega came packaged with, Kakashi would take care of.
In hindsight, his flippant mood at the meeting ended in long-time heartache. This man wasn’t some poor little soul that he was helping for a moment, but someone who would become a thorn in his side for the months or years that followed. Rumour would spread of his strange taste in omegas, all because he wanted to treat a slave’s wounds, and they would only grow if he sold the omega off after this. Father would never allow it. So, this omega was his. Eventually, the elders would expect a mating bite. An alpha could have many mates, of course, and if he was interested in this one, why wouldn’t he?
Kakashi wasn’t sure how he felt, marking someone with a permanent bond. But that, too, was a burden he would bear.
He sighed as he scrubbed the omega’s back, cursing himself for his whims. Now, he understood why Father always asked for more alcohol at the dinner table. Maybe he would start, too.
Fingers pressed against the shell of his ear, and he shook off his thoughts to find the omega twisting to face him. He was worried about the bite, apparently.
“If you feel bad, maybe show some restraint.”
Something drew his eye, and Kakashi pushed away the hair falling across the back of the omega’s neck. There on the nape, poking out beneath the collar, he found a seal. The characters were foreign, but he recognized the script, and searching further, he found another seal behind the omega’s ear.
“What’s all this?” he wondered, drawing back more hair and, again, failing to read it.
The omega’s features were from Kiri. Kiri was known for its Kekkei Genkai, and omegas from there were highly sought after because of them. Many of their clans had the sharp, jagged teeth shared by this man, and the poor state of the omega’s body lined up well with Kiri’s desperation in the last war. He was at the right age to be a war slave, too.
So why, then, was he marked with Uzushio’s seals?