Shizuka felt her heartbeat quicken as the distant chakras swelled, heavy and oppressive, like an oncoming storm. The ground beneath her trembled, reverberating with the echo of an explosion far off. She halted, eyes wide, taking in the dark mass of clouds spiralling in the distance—a towering column of steam billowing into a freshly formed cumulonimbus. Her gaze drifted forward, toward her master, who pressed on, only a few meters ahead.

For a fleeting moment, the thought of turning back surfaced in Shizuka’s mind. But just as quickly, she dismissed it. This was no time for doubt, no time for second-guessing. She was neither a coward nor one to falter when her village—her home—was under threat.

Another explosion, this one louder, shattered the air around her. Shizuka instinctively raised her arm, shielding her eyes from the searing flash. The shockwave struck her, sending her long hair whipping violently behind her. Still, she did not slow her pace. The winds tugged at her, but she pushed forward. Fear gnawed at her, but there was no room for it now. The battle awaited, and so did her duty.

She stopped at the edge of a massive crater, the earth scorched and torn asunder. Seawater dribbled into the gouged earth, slowly filling the hollow with a steady flow. But Shizuka’s focus was on the figures that emerged through the thinning smoke. Two bodies—One of them looked like a middle-aged man, or what was left of one., the other younger, around her age.

The first should have been dead. His lower half was gone, his body sagged against the crater’s edge. Water seeped over cracked skin, but he didn’t seem to care. Just lay there, his eyes distant.

The boy knelt in the mud. His right arm gone, the left hanging useless. His flesh burned black, his skin peeled back and raw. But there was a chakra around him. A towering, winged thing that loomed over him, its form hard to look at. Staring at it made Shizuka’s head ache, the sheer wrongness of its presence unsettling her.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Tobirama,” the boy rasped, his voice hollow. His crimson eyes flickered with something dark, something unfathomable. Then, without a word, his opponent vanished, leaving only silence.

Shizuka tensed.

"And who are you?" The boy rose to his feet. His voice didn’t reach out to anyone in particular. Shizuka exchanged a glance with her master, uncertain. He turned toward them. The chakra moved with him. Shizuka’s breath caught. How did he know? They had been careful. Hidden in the debris, the smoke. There was no way he should’ve sensed them.

"Ladies, I know you’re there," he said. His voice cold, dangerous. "Come out. Don’t test my patience."

Shizuka met her master’s eyes. A wordless exchange passed between them. She gripped her kunai tighter.

"We’re coming out!" her master called, her voice unwavering. They stepped from the rubble, twenty of them in all. The boy’s gaze swept over them, indifferent, before locking on Lady Marika. Shizuka moved between them, her body a shield. The boy’s eyes passed over her, then back to the elder. He studied her with a detached curiosity, as though weighing her significance.

“And you are…?” he asked, his tone betraying no emotion.

Shizuka’s master drew herself up, her voice steady though laced with irritation. “I am Marika Yamato, Matriarch of the Nadeshiko village. You have trespassed on our land and unleashed destruction in your wake. I expect an explanation.”

The boy blinked, sighed. He sounded almost bored. “Nadeshiko?” he asked, more weary than contrite. "The village north of O’Ozu Island?"

"Yes. I assume you’re from Konoha?" Lady Marika asked, gesturing toward the headband at his waist.

The boy looked down at it, his face twisting into a snarl. He ripped it from his clothes and crushed it in his hand, tossing it aside.

Shizuka blinked. "Or... perhaps not," Lady Marika said, her voice wary.

"You should leave," Elder Fubuki spoke from behind, her tone firm. “We have no interest in getting involved in the Leaf’s affairs.”

"Leave?" Elder Himeko scoffed. "Are you mad? We’ve been looking for a worthy replacement for that filthy mongrel Shizuka brought home, and now you want to throw him out?"

What? Shizuka’s mind reeled. Sagiri?

"And you want to shelter a Leaf defector?" Katsura’s voice was cold.

"Coward! What leaf? Let them come—"

Lady Marika’s voice cut through the clamour. "Enough!" She turned back to the boy. "I apologize, Uchiha..."

"Sasuke," he said quietly.

"Uchiha Sasuke." Marika nodded. “You can dispel your technique, Uchiha-san. We don’t want a fight. Not if we can help it.”

The boy’s gaze lingered on her, assessing. Slowly, the chakra construct began to fade, the monstrous figure dissolving into the air. He shrugged, the motion casual, as if the threat he posed moments ago had been nothing more than an afterthought. “Very well. I’ll be on my way then.”

“Wait!” Lady Marika called after him. The boy paused, glancing over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “You’re injured. We can help you, if you’re willing to talk. It’s the least we can offer.”

The boy was silent for a moment, then he spoke, his voice softer now. “How far is the Land of Waves?”

“Two weeks by sea. But the waters are dangerous,” Lady Marika replied. “There’s a civil war in Kirigakure that’s spilling into the surrounding territories. You won’t make it without proper care.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

He sighed again, a weariness creeping into his expression. “I see.”

“You’d be better off staying,” Lady Marika continued. “We can offer you rest. And perhaps, some clarity.”

For a long moment, the boy said nothing. Then, with a resigned nod, he turned back towards them. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

----------------------------------------

Kakashi came to with a groan, the ache of his body pulling him back into the world. Pain greeted him first—a dull, insistent ache that seemed to seep into every muscle, every bone. His head throbbed rhythmically, a pulsing heaviness that settled behind his eyes. He blinked, disoriented, and slowly became aware of a voice nearby, cutting through the fog.

“Right on cue. I was starting to wonder if you’d wake up at all,” a woman’s voice observed, tinged with dry amusement. Kakashi blinked, turned his head slow like molasses to find her.

“Tsunade-hime?” he murmured. “You’re... here?”

She huffed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. “Of course, I’m here. You think I had a choice after those old fools sent that tiresome pervert my way? The nerve of it.”

Before Kakashi could respond, the door to the room slammed open. “KAKASHI-SENSEI!”

He winced at the yell that echoed into the room, too loud, too raw, the kind of noise that cuts through a man’s head like a cleaver. There at the door, flung wide open, stood Naruto, dumb grin painted across his face.

The moment of euphoria, however, was cut short. Sakura’s fist crashed into the back of his skull. The next moment, Tsunade had him by the ear, yanking him off his feet, dangling like some child caught stealing bread.

“Idiot! You don’t just barge into a hospital like that!” Tsunade and Sakura scolded in unison, their voices shrill with exasperation. Kakashi winced at the noise. After what felt like an endless tirade, the room finally quieted. Kakashi looked at them, then spoke, soft but clear, the question that’d burned through his fogged brain since the moment he woke.

“Where’s Sasuke?”

“Oh,” Sakura answered, “He went on a mission with Team Guy to the Land of Stone. Should be back in a few weeks.”

“Sasuke?” Tsunade interjected, a peculiar tone in her voice. She regarded Kakashi thoughtfully, her brow furrowing slightly. “You mean the same kid who knocked you out cold?”

Everyone turned to her. Kakashi blinked slow, trying to make sense of what she’d just said. “What do you mean?”

Tsunade’s gaze narrowed. “You don’t remember? You were out cold, Kakashi. I was told it was the Uchiha—Sasuke—who did it with his Sharingan.”

A ripple of incredulity passed through the room. Sakura immediately jumped to Sasuke’s defence, while Naruto, though quieter, seemed equally dismissive of the notion.

“No,” Kakashi said, blinking harder now. “Why would my student attack me?”

Tsunade didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she looked at him long and hard, her expression shifting into something more serious. “If that’s true, you need to talk to the Hokage. Now.”

----------------------------------------

The office was heavy with the scent of incense, but even that couldn’t mask the tension in the air. Sarutobi massaged his temples, weariness etched into every line of his face. Kakashi stood before him, still leaning on crutches. The Jonin, as well as a few others in attendance, seemed alarmed by the presence of the undead Kage in their midst, yet no one seemed bold enough to point it out.

“So,” the Third Hokage began, “You mean to say everything in Sasuke’s report was accurate?” he asked, voice heavy like stone.

Kakashi hesitated, recalling the events. “He was faster than me. Got to the battle before I could. By the time I arrived, one of the missing-nin—Kisame Hoshigaki—was already dead. Itachi had retaliated... and Sasuke had already lost an arm.” He paused, the memory vivid in his mind. “His arm was on the ground, burning with some black flame. He must have severed it himself when he couldn’t extinguish the fire.”

Sarutobi’s gaze darkened as Kakashi continued.

“I attacked Itachi but missed. Genjutsu, most likely. After that, I was incapacitated.”

Homura, seated nearby, narrowed his eyes. “So you’re saying that Sasuke, a chunin, detected these threats before you did?”

Kakashi nodded.

Sarutobi sighed, his hands resting heavily on the desk before him. The pieces were starting to fall into place, though the picture they formed was not one he liked. It explained everything—the boy’s evasiveness, the way he kept himself distant from the council. A boy with senses sharp enough to catch that meant he’d known all along. Known they were watching. Every damn move.

“Sasuke didn’t report Kisame Hoshigaki as one of the interlopers,” Sarutobi said, his voice scraping through the air like the sound of dead leaves underfoot. “Are you suggesting a chunin took down an S-rank missing-nin? One of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist? In seconds?”

The question, spoken aloud, made Kakashi falter. He hadn’t fully processed it himself. “Yes,” he answered, though the word came out with hesitation.

“That’s absurd!” Shikaku’s voice cut through the room, sharp and sceptical. “Kakashi’s mind must’ve been tampered with. There’s no way a chunin could do that.”

Tsunade, standing by the window, shook her head. “I’ve already examined Kakashi’s mind. No signs of tampering. If anything, he’s telling the truth.”

Tobirama, who had been silent, finally spoke. “The boy’s abilities are far beyond what we imagined,” he said. “I fought him myself. His mastery of ninjutsu, his control of the battlefield—it was surgical. This wasn’t an ordinary chunin. What would you say the boy’s attitude toward Konoha is, Kakashi?”

“Neutral,” Kakashi said after a pause. “He dealt with all his responsibilities with the competence expected of him.” Another pause. There was something in Kakshi’s eyes now. Something like understanding coming late to the table. “...He dealt with all his responsibilities with just the right amount of competence expected of him. He did exactly what was expected of him.”

Danzo hissed his words next. “How insidious,” the elder spat. “Had Itachi not pushed him, we’d never have known what he was truly capable of.”

“Oh, shut up!” Sarutobi’s voice bellowed through the room. Everyone turned to look at him in shock, but the Hokage couldn’t care less at this point. “I warned you. Time and time again, I warned you. Sasuke was to remain untouched. But you didn’t listen. Look what you’ve done now!”

Koharu spoke. “Hiruzen—”

“Enough!”

Sarutobi turned, called out, “Raidō! Genma!” The two appeared in an instant. Sarutobi deflated, his anger spent. “...Arrest him.”

“Hiruzen…”

The old man looked up to meet the cold, ghostly eyes of Tobirama.

“Calm yourself,” the Second Hokage said. “Now’s not the time for this. We must find a way to end this. The boy bears a grudge against the village. He is dangerous. Very dangerous.”

Sarutobi felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“What?”

“Even at forty percent of my power, I should’ve bested him. Easily. But he landed three killing blows in the fifteen minutes we fought. Had I not been undead, I would have died there. By the end, I was certain he had another technique. One that could kill me permanently. Destroy my soul. So, I fled. Couldn't risk dying with the knowledge I had.”

Kakashi’s voice broke through, disbelief sharp on his face. “Why would my student want to kill you?”

Tobirama didn’t answer. Silence swallowed the room whole.

Sarutobi sank back into his chair, the weight of it all pulling him down. In that moment, the years fell hard on him. Somehow, without warning, his world, all of it, had gone wrong. Horribly, terribly wrong. And he, with all his experience, had not seen it coming.

…How could he have been so blind?