Chapter 3 - The illegitimate Hatake Save The suicidal Sakumo

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Miblade picked up his short knife and strolled slowly back to his room, the weight of the world heavy on his small shoulders—he felt like a toddler carrying a backpack full of bricks.

Ever since he crossed over into this ninja-filled life, he had known he was living in Uchiha territory.

Back then, he spent countless sleepless nights worrying about how to survive the infamous night of the Uchiha massacre.

Talk about a crash course in family drama! It was like watching a soap opera but with more shuriken and fewer commercial breaks.

Now, with the Hatake surname resting on his head—seriously, where did that even come from?—he found himself desperately trying to figure out how to keep his father, Sakumo, alive.

It was like playing a game of emotional whack-a-mole, and every time he thought he had it under control, another crisis popped up.

Even though his father had long since abandoned the dangerous notion of taking drastic measures, Miblade couldn’t shake the nagging fear of worse news lurking around the corner—news that could drive Sakumo to the edge, possibly even to thoughts of suicide. Talk about family bonding time gone wrong!

Settling down in his room, Miblade carefully plotted out a plan of action. The problem was, Sakumo had gone on a mission that ended with him killing someone, but the details were as fuzzy as his memory after a wild night out at the ramen shop.

“Damn it! I really should have paid more attention during those plot twists!” he grumbled, frustrated by his own ignorance.

Asking his father about the mission was out of the question; ninja missions were as secretive as a cat with a hidden stash of catnip. Regardless of the target, the mission had failed, and Sakumo had been vilified by the village for it.

But honestly, this was a man who was already a legend in the ninja world. Did he really care about some gossip?

“Oh no, someone’s talking about me behind my back! Whatever shall I do?” Miblade mocked, rolling his eyes.

No, the real issue was honor. For a ninja, missions were a sacred duty, and abandoning one was like abandoning your pizza at a party—unthinkable! And let’s not even get started on the conspiracy theories flying around like shuriken.

Some whispered that this whole mess was orchestrated by the Third Hokage and Danzo, aimed at ruining Konohagakure and Sakumo’s reputation so he wouldn’t even be in the running for the title of Fourth Hokage. Talk about a power move!

Sure, that theory had some merit, but Miblade wasn’t particularly interested in the “who” or “why.” What mattered now was getting Sakumo’s trust back, restoring his strength, and ensuring he wouldn’t fall into a pit of despair.

“Ugh!” Miblade groaned, exasperation bubbling to the surface like ramen boiling over.

“Why did I have to be an ordinary person in my previous life? I’ve got zero genius vibes here!”

If this were a novel, he would have dozens of clever schemes to bring back hope for the legendary White Fang, and every character would cheer him on like he was the star of a ninja talent show.

But this was reality, where genius ideas were as elusive as a shadow in the dark.

“Without talent, you lose everything,” he muttered, realizing he was in for an uphill battle—like trying to climb a mountain with a boulder tied to his back while juggling three kunai.

As the evening settled in, the atmosphere in the Hatake household felt oddly cheerful, despite the clouds hanging over their heads. Sakumo sat at the dining table with his two sons, attempting to enjoy their meal.

Laughter echoed through the room, but both Kakashi and Miblade could sense the strain behind their father's forced smile, like a ninja trying to pull off a stealth mission while wearing a clown costume.

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“My dear father,” Miblade said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.

“Have you ever considered retirement? I could step in, resign from the Sandaime, and teach both you and Kakashi the fine art of swordsmanship!”

The playful banter froze the smile on Sakumo’s face faster than a ninja caught in a genjutsu. After a moment of stunned silence, he set down his chopsticks with a soft clatter, looking like someone who just realized they’d been talking to a shadow clone the whole time.

“I’m full,” he declared, his voice strained, as if he had just eaten a mountain of rice balls.

“You two take your time. Just remember to put your plates and chopsticks here when you’re done. I’ll handle the washing later.”

And with that, he excused himself and went upstairs, leaving a heavy silence behind, like the sound of a thousand crickets in an empty field.

Kakashi and Miblade exchanged glances, both silently acknowledging the weight of the moment. They ate in silence, the food suddenly losing its flavor, tasting more like disappointment than dinner.

After finishing his meal, Kakashi put down his plate, determination shining in his eyes like a freshly polished kunai.

“I want to apply for early graduation from the Ninja School. I’m going to become a ninja and help restore our family’s reputation.”

Miblade’s eyes lit up, his usual cheerful demeanor returning faster than a ninja after a good nap. “Absolutely! I’m with you on this,” he declared, setting down his utensils like they were going to war.

“We’re not just graduating early to show off or to prove we’re better than anyone else; we need to reclaim the Hatake family’s honor ourselves!”

“Exactly!” Kakashi agreed, his resolve strengthening like he’d just eaten a bowl of spicy ramen.

Meanwhile, on the staircase, Sakumo watched the two brothers with a mixture of pride and sadness.

The sight of them growing closer warmed his heart like a hot cup of tea on a cold day. Even if he were to leave this world, he hoped they would look after one another—though part of him worried about what kind of trouble they’d stir up.

But then, from somewhere within the shadows, a teasing thought slipped out of Kakashi's mouth.

“Kakashi, if anything happens to our father, I’ll fight you!”

“Me too!” Miblade chimed in, his playful grin returning like a shuriken launched from the shadows.

Sakumo couldn’t help but chuckle, even amid the chaos. “......” He shook his head, half-amused and half-exasperated, feeling like he was stuck in a sitcom where the punchlines just kept coming.

It seemed his sons were determined to keep him on his toes, and perhaps that was exactly what he needed. Because honestly, if he couldn’t laugh through the madness, what was the point of being a ninja?

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“Hey, Kakashi! You big idiot! Aren’t you the one who usually hates rice? So why on earth did you bring it to school today?”

Obito, who had just arrived the day before, couldn’t resist the opportunity to poke fun at Kakashi and Miblade. He leaned in, a smirk plastered across his face like he’d just told the best joke in the world.

Kakashi shot him a disgusted look, one that screamed, “I can’t believe I used to share snacks with you!”

“Shut it, Crane Tail!” he snapped back, trying to suppress a smirk of his own.

Suddenly, he and Miblade struck a pose, forming tiger hand seals with all the seriousness of a couple of ninjas in an action movie.

“The Profound Meaning of Konoha Body Arts... A Thousand!” they declared in unison, their voices booming with over-the-top theatrics.

Their dramatic poses sent shivers down the spines of their classmates, especially when memories of Kakashi’s infamous “Thousand-Year Kill” came flooding back.

A few of their peers turned pale, scrambling away faster than a cat chased by a dog, clutching their behinds like they were about to face the wrath of the very technique they feared.

Miblade couldn’t help but smirk, an impish glint in his eye as he pretended to throw a punch. “Look at them run! You’d think we were ninjas or something! More like ‘Ninjas of Silliness!’”

In contrast to the chaotic energy swirling around them, Miblade’s demeanor shifted as he surveyed the lively classroom.

It was hard to believe that these spirited children would one day evolve into the formidable leaders of the ninja world. If they didn’t blow each other up first, that is.

“Morning, Miblade-kun!” a bright voice chimed in, cutting through the playful atmosphere like a kunai through a watermelon.

“Morning!” Miblade replied cheerfully, as if he were a walking sunshine.

“Morning, Kakashi-kun!” another classmate greeted, practically bouncing with energy like a toddler on a sugar rush.

“Good,” Kakashi responded curtly, his cool facade firmly in place, like a ninja trying to hide a sneeze.

As the two brothers made their way to their seats, the stark contrast in their personalities was clear: one exuded a carefree spirit, ready to take on the world with a goofy grin, while the other maintained his signature chill, like a refrigerator on a hot day.

Kakashi and Miblade were a whole year younger than their classmates, who were mostly in their fifth or sixth year at Shinobi school. Meanwhile, these two prodigies were still just sprightly five-year-olds, practically toddlers in a sea of wannabe ninja giants—like tiny sushi rolls in a buffet of ramen.

In the bustling classroom, Miblade was right in the thick of things, chatting animatedly with his classmates while lugging around a mound of dirt like it was a new pet.

Next to him stood Nohara Rin, who seemed perpetually lost in thought, likely plotting her next snack break.

At the back of the class, Mighty Guy was working up a sweat doing push-ups, totally unfazed by the chaos surrounding him, as if he were training for a ninja Olympics.

Just as the bell rang to signal the end of class, the teacher strolled in, and Kakashi and Miblade sprang to their feet like they were on a trampoline.

“Teacher! Miblade and I would like to apply to graduate early and become ninjas!” Kakashi declared, his voice brimming with conviction, as if he were announcing a world-changing invention.

“What?” The teacher blinked in disbelief, clearly taken aback.

“Kakashi, what are you talking about? You’re only five years old! How could the Hokage possibly agree to this? Are you trying to break some sort of record for most ridiculous requests?”

While most of the class gasped in shock or shook their heads in confusion, Dai Tu couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Kakashi and Miblade are just five! How is that even a thing? Are we living in a ninja fairy tale?”

“Yeah, they’re one year younger than us!” another classmate chimed in, still trying to process the absurdity of it all.

“Next, they’ll want to fly a giant ninja hamster!”

“Miblade-sama!” shouted a fan girl with starry eyes, completely captivated by the idea of her hero becoming a ninja.

“You’ll be the youngest legendary ninja ever! Like... like a ninja toddler!”

Ignoring the buzz of chatter around them, Kakashi handed over their meticulously prepared graduation application with both hands, a determined look on his face as if he were handing over the sacred scrolls of ninjutsu.

“This one…” the principal stammered, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He had never seen a request for early graduation from someone so young.

While genius ninjas sometimes graduated ahead of schedule, five years old? That was a first!

“You’re supposed to be learning how to tie your shoes, not plotting world domination!”

“Wait here, you two! I’m going to talk to Lord Third Hokage!” The principal dashed out of the classroom like he was racing to save the world—or at least to prevent a national crisis involving toddlers with ninja dreams.

As soon as he left, Miblade turned to Kakashi, eyes wide. “Do you think he’ll even remember how to come back? He looked like he was about to step on a landmine!”

Kakashi shrugged, “Well, if he doesn’t, at least we can use the dirt for our ninja training.”