He had died- honorably, he'd like to think, despite living as a villain and an assassin for over half a century- and that, as far as Xanxus had ever figured, would be the end of that. No heaven. No hell. Just life when you were breathing and nothingness when you stopped. Except that it didn't, quite, turn out that way. Except he came back as the son of the kindest, sometimes saddest father in the world. In both worlds. A father that he knew, without a doubt, to be his flesh and blood. All at once, Xanxus had everything he'd wanted as a child. A home. A family. Stability. And he was going to fight like hell and beat down anyone who tried to take it from him, no matter what his age. (In which Sakumo raises a son who speaks multiple languages from birth, all of them gibberish to the poor single father jounin, spits vulgarity with the same ease as he does his praise and burns with an unshakable determination to build himself a family that will not fall, no matter who or what is thrown against it.)

“Shh,” Kakashi breathes against his lips, and there's a look in his eyes that he gets on the very worst missions, in the middle of a battle, when there's nothing left in him of restraint or anything beyond instinct and act-react. “You’re safe, Shisui. And I'm going to fix it.”

Tsunade smiles, thin and bare with fury. “Sensei,” she says, and steps forward. It seems for a moment like Sarutobi is going to try to hug her, but she lifts her chin, meets his eyes, and he falters in the face of her expression. Falters, stops, but Tsunade doesn’t. She reaches up, pulls the hat from Sarutobi's head, and says, “I'm deposing you, sensei. You have an hour to leave the office or I’ll be forced to make you.”