There was more to Kakashi’s lateness than honouring the memory of his dead friend—just as there was more to his harshness as a teacher than arbitrary criteria. He wanted to teach his would-be students one thing; one lesson that every one of them failed spectacularly.
They needed to learn to not rely on him and for them to achieve that goal, it meant relying on each other—out of the dozens of children he’d assessed, barely a handful seemed willing to do so. He saw shadows of the arrogant little shit he used to be in every new face. The one who believed wholeheartedly that comrades were of no value.
Where did that land them? Relying on his mercy to pull his punches, unable to give their back to an ally.
People like that weren’t fit to be shinobi—out in the field, they only had their allies and sometimes even they wouldn’t be enough. And yet, after failing close to forty children, Lord Third hadn’t stopped throwing would-be genin at him, so here he was, at another genin draft meeting in the faint hopes he’d find some competent ones.
He threw open the doors with a mighty sigh, disturbing the ongoing discussion and attracting half the room’s ire, but Kakashi raised a hand at the only person who mattered. “Yo!”
“Kakashi,” said Lord Third with a tired sigh. Elders Utatane and Homura scoffed to his right and Danzo, as always, merely frowned. “You’re five minutes earlier than last year, so I suppose I won’t punish you.”
“Much obliged, sir.”
“Take a seat and I’ll read out this year’s roster from the top for your benefit.” Lord Third simply smiled away half the room’s grumbling. “Honoka Abe, Choji Akimichi, Tomio Araya…”
He leaned his head back, not bothering to write down any names because doing so was a waste of time. After the various jonin had picked up to six students they wanted to teach, the cohort’s homeroom teacher would pull up their recommended genin teams.
More often than not, Lord Third tended to go with those recommended teams unless someone made a good case to the contrary—but Kakashi wasn’t that person. He cracked his eyes open as the graduating year’s teacher walked towards the centre of the room, wheeling a standing board behind him.
He flipped back a page, revealing the team compositions complete with photographs of each student. “These are the proposed teams from my end, Lord Hokage.”
“Thank you, Iruka—you may be seated.” Lord Third cleared his throat. “Alright, let us begin. Tell me which students you want, and which ones you do not. Take into account the draft on the board, but you may also make an argument for a different team altogether if you wish provided your reasoning is sound and no one else makes a stronger argument.”
Kakashi closed his eyes again, running down the minutes until it was his turn to go. The old man had given up trying to correct his behaviour so long as he didn’t cross the line into disrespect—which he wouldn’t. His general lack of care for hierarchy aside, Lord Third was still the strongest shinobi in the village.
As expected, most were angling for the top ten and a few ambitious ones probably wanted the Rookie of the Year—not that their wants mattered. In the end, the most capable students would go to the most capable teachers.
Kakashi glanced at Lord Third, who was listening to the first jonin’s speech with feigned interest. Knowing the old man, he’d most likely end up with the most troublesome of the lot. His yearly requests to return to the ANBU had been denied upon the condition that one of his students make jonin and it just so happened that the two most troublesome students out of the lot were almost guaranteed to… if they survived.
“Jonin Kurenai Yuhi.”
Kakashi didn’t recognise her from any of the previous draft meetings so she was most likely a new promotion. Her last name seemed familiar to him, but he only realised why when she stood up to face him—her father was Shinku Yuhi, the shinobi who’d detained Kakashi and all the other young shinobi, preventing them from fighting against the Nine-Tails.
“Lord Hokage, I don’t want Naruto Uzumaki because I wouldn’t have much to teach him. I also don’t want Sasuke Uchiha because I believe there are others better equipped to teach him than myself.” Kurenai Yuhi looked over at him for a split second. “With that in mind, I would like to request Shikamaru Nara, Ino Yamanaka, and Kiba Inuzuka as my genin.”
The disapproving whispers started almost immediately, but she didn’t look perturbed in the slightest.
“...Are you aware that the Ino-Shika-Cho formation is a tried and tested team with the full backing of the three clans?”
“I am.”
“And you still wish to go ahead with your proposed team?”
The red-eyed woman stood up straight. “I do.”
“Why?” Lord Third asked, his brown eyes alight with curiosity.
“Sir, while the Ino-Shika-Cho formation is indeed formidable, I believe that Choji Akimichi is an outlier better suited for an assault team.”
“And the other two? Why do you believe they should be on your team rather than continuing the successful model of the Ino-Shika-Cho formation.”
She took a breath, her eyes looking about the room as if daring someone to challenge her. “The team I’m proposing would be a hunter-killer team focused on assassinating or capturing targets of interest to extract vital information. Each of their abilities is perfect for a team like this and will draw out their maximum potential.”
Lord Third rubbed his chin pensively. “...You make a good point, Jonin Yuhi. So long as no one makes a better point by the end of the meeting, those three students will be yours.” He looked to the elders on his right. “Anything to add, my friends?”
Danzo gave a small shake of his head and it seemed he spoke for the other two elders because Lord Third asked the next shinobi to plead their case.
“L-Lord Hokage!” Kakashi looked up to see an Akimichi jonin leaning over the table. “T-This is too far!”
“Is it?” asked the old man with a small smile. He looked to the rest of the room. “Are the rest of you in agreement with Jonin Akimichi?”
Around two-thirds of the room hummed in agreement—they were the old guard, people who’d fought in the wars and had seen the formation first-hand. The last third was all new hires who were either too afraid to go against the old guard. Kurenai Yuhi growled under her breath, looking ready to make another speech but the bearded man beside her placed a calming hand on her shoulder.
After a second look, Kakashi realised it was the Third’s wayward son—the very same one who'd practically abandoned the village for years. He remembered hearing that Asuma Sarutobi had returned to the village, but he didn’t pay the news any mind at the time, assuming he’d be demoted or something. Seeing him at a genin draft meeting was certainly a surprise.
“Well, isn’t this a shame?” Lord Third chuckled at the room’s mood. “It seems I’ll be disappointing so many of my jonin. Would any of you care to challenge my opinion?”
Just a sliver of his killing intent was enough to exert noticeable pressure on a room of jonin, bringing an end to any debate over Kurenai Yuhi’s choices. Kakashi felt himself sweat underneath his mask, adjusting it slightly to let the air cool off the uncomfortable heat.
Lord Third was willing to let a lot of things go but disrespect towards himself or his subordinates was not one of those things—especially if the disrespect was coming from one of their own.
The next slew of arguments were all variations of the same pitch so he tuned them out until he heard his name being mentioned. Kakashi looked up, realising it was Asuma Sarutobi who was currently speaking. He stood tall despite the disdainful looks from the majority of the room.
“All these jonin refusing to take on Naruto Uzumaki is great for me because I’d like to have Choji Akimichi, Hinata Hyuuga, and Naruto Uzumaki as my genin,” said Asuma Sarutobi.
Lord Third hummed. “And if I were to say that young Naruto will go to Kakashi—what then?”
Kakashi sat up, leaning forward intently in anticipation. He hadn’t seen this coming; granted, he didn’t know Asuma Sarutobi, but that only made his announcement even more of a surprise.
“You wouldn't be wrong from a certain point of view. The Sharingan is a surefire way to control a rampaging Jinchuriki because of its powerful ocular genjutsu. However, regular genjutsu, barrier ninjutsu, and even a plain old beating can do the same job. Where the Sharingan really shines is its ability to control Tailed Beasts.”
“But?”
Asuma Sarutobi grinned. “But I believe that so long as you’re a decent amount stronger than the Jinchuriki before they lose their mind, you can clobber them before things get hairy. Regardless, you’re looking at this the wrong way, old man.”
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Lord Third raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“It’s not only you—all of you are looking at this incorrectly. I get that Naruto Uzumaki’s a generation talent and as Jinchuriki, he’s supposed to be a literal deterrent against other nations.” He folded his arms and jutted out his chin. “But despite how important he is to this village, nobody seems to be worried at how sceptical he is of this place—and worse, he’s completely right to be!”
The disdainful glares aimed at the man turned into scornful mutterings. A swift reprimand by Lord brought an end to it and he faced his son once again. “Please, continue.”
“I know you’re already aware that I’ve been teaching the kid in my spare time for two years now—otherwise you would’ve stopped it before the very first training session. Now, in those two years, I think I’ve gotten a better handle on who he is than anyone in this room.” Asuma Sarutobi spoke his next words with damning confidence. “Beyond the few friends he has and maybe myself, Naruto Uzumaki could not give a rat’s ass about this village, the Will of Fire, and its people.”
Lord Third dragged a hand over his face. “...I’m aware, nor can I condemn him for it.”
“And yet,” said Danzo, speaking up for the first time in this meeting, “what can be done about it? What can you do about it that Jonin Hatake cannot?”
Kakashi looked up at the mention of his name, slightly narrowing his eye in Danzo’s direction. The man hadn’t said a word this entire meeting but when he finally spoke up, it was in support of Asuma Sarutobi, a jonin who wasn’t thought well of these days.
Asuma Sarutobi nodded gratefully at the man and Lord Third gave his friend a searching look before deflating with a heavy sigh—almost as if he was feeling the weight of every single year of his life.
“Honestly?” the jonin said with a shrug. “I dunno, but I know enough to try to help—having once been quite sceptical about it all myself. I might not be a Jinchuriki or possess the Sharingan, but I’m decently strong—and better than any of that, I think I can help Naruto Uzumaki believe in the Will of Fire again.”
Kakashi watched on, an odd panging in his chest. He tried to tell himself that he didn’t want to teach Naruto—he didn’t want to risk losing him, but watching the man plead so earnestly in the way that he should have… it was a bittersweet thing.
“...As you wish, Naruto Uzumaki is yours.” Lord Third took a moment to collect himself, and when he opened his eyes, none of the previous tiredness showed on his face. “Kakashi, your team will now be Sasuke Uchiha, Sakura Haruno, and Shino Aburame—that would satisfy your request for a saboteur team?”
“...It would,” said Kakashi, once again avoiding eye contact.
Lord Third hummed and fixed his attention on his son. “I believe I know your answer, but I will ask you the same question that I asked Jonin Yuhi—why break up the Ino-Shika-Cho trio?”
“Seeing that she and I discussed this together, I’m glad you asked, old man.” Asuma grinned and looked at the rest of the room. “First, as far as I’m concerned, the rest of you can go and shove it up your—”
“Asuma.”
The jonin coughed, looking away from Kurenai Yuhi’s withering frown. “...Sorry.”
Lord Third snorted softly. “You were saying?”
“Right—Choji Akimichi. Like Kurenai mentioned, we believe he’d do better on a heavy assault team.”
“Why?”
“Throughout the Academy, he’s slowly built up his once nonexistent confidence and abilities. I believe that not only would it prevent him from growing as a shinobi, it would also damage the confidence he’s worked hard to build over the last few years because of the degree of reliance the formation requires.”
“...A fair point,” said Lord Third. “I believe you have an alternative?”
“My fortress-busting squad will centre around Choji Akimichi as the main damage dealer. Hinata Hyuuga will take advantage of her dojutsu to scout ahead and neutralise the enemy before I send off Choji Akimichi to—and excuse my language—essentially fuck shit up.”
“And how does Naruto Uzumaki factor into this plan?” asked Lord Third.
“He’ll be the mid to long-range support, taking advantage of his large chakra reserves to bombard the enemy with ninjutsu. Once he learns to control the Nine-Tails’ chakra, he can take some of the demand off both Choji Akimichi and Hinata Hyuuga.”
He eased into his chair as the sales pitches started. As predicted, almost every teacher waived the right to teach the Jinchuriki, mumbling about Kakashi’s Sharingan and bringing a small frown to his face.
They made their speeches, vying for dominance over a small percentage of students who had the highest scores; a few went for students with high potential but lower marks, but the majority were fixated on the top ten.
Before Kakashi knew it, it was his turn to speak.
“Kakashi,” said Lord Third. “Knowing your proclivities, I took the liberty of deciding on your team myself. Feel free to object to any particular children you don’t want to teach. Team 7 under Kakashi Hatake will be Sasuke Uchiha, Shino Aburame, and Naruto Uzumaki.”
“Right… I don’t particularly care about who I teach, but I have something to say. Many gathered here believe, for one reason or the other, that I will be the Jinchuriki’s teacher. Because of this assumption, they avoid his potential entirely… well, it's either that or undeserved prejudice.” He swept his eyes across the room, a good few heads looking down in embarrassment—or fear, he wasn't sure which. “Whether I'll get Sasuke Uchiha is a foregone conclusion. That said, I would like to waive my right to teach Naruto Uzumaki.”
Kakashi looked away from Lord Third’s disappointed eyes. “...And why do you not wish to teach him?”
Truth be told, he wanted nothing more than to teach his sensei's son—to make up for the years he'd spent shirking the responsibility of raising him. Yet when the opportunity presented itself, Kakashi couldn't do it. Worse, he was afraid to do it—worried that he would once again lead his loved ones to death.
As he stared at the familiar blond hair and blue plastered on the board beside him, Minato-sensei's strangely enduring trust forced itself to the front of his mind—misplaced trust that led to his and Kushina’s death.
Misplaced trust that led to Obito’s death. So, who was he to believe his sensei wanting him to train his son wasn't just another tragedy waiting to happen?
Repeated experience had proven to him that when it came down to it and Kakashi was the only thing standing between his loved ones and certain death, he failed them every single time. Minato-sensei put him in charge of Obito and Rin and Obito died, asking him to protect Rin with his dying breath.
Not long after that, he failed so badly that she felt the need to impale herself on his jutsu rather than trust in his abilities to protect her himself. So, if denying his sensei’s wishes meant his son got to live, then Kakashi would gladly forgo teaching the boy—even if he so desperately wanted to.
“Jonin Sarutobi made a pretty convincing case, and it’s clear he cares enough about the genin he proposed to be a good teacher.” He looked up and shrugged. “And if I'm going to be saddled with a team, it might as well be to my capabilities. I'm keeping my eye out for genin who would fit on a team primarily based on sabotage. For obvious reasons, Jinchuriki aren’t exactly on the top of that list.”
“I see…” Lord Third's disappointed gaze lingered a few moments longer.
With the top ten students spread amongst himself, Asuma Sarutobi, and Kurenai Yuhi, the meeting came to a swift conclusion. Everyone else was forced to settle with students with lower marks, or overall lower potential, grumbling about their rotten luck. Kakashi scoffed at their excuses—in the end, the most promising students went to the most capable teachers.
He exited the stairs at the bottom of the Hokage Building, keeping his head low. If he was quick enough, he’d be able to vanish before he found him.
“KA-KA-SHI!”
A booming voice cut the reception’s orderly silence. Everyone carried on as normal, all too familiar with the owner’s antics to care.
Kakashi sighed. “...Hello, Gai.”
His energetic friend cleared the metres-long distance between them in a single step, flashing him a double thumbs-up. “How did it go? D’you get a team? Will I finally be able to match my lot against yours to settle our score once and for all?”
“Unfortunately, I have a team.”
“YES!” Gai raised his hands skyward, vibrating with excitement. “THE TIME IS UPON US AT LAST!”
Kakashi slinked lower and lower as he pictured the next few months of his life.
Genin teams went through two weeks of E-ranks consisting of menial jobs they performed in the last year of the Academy while their sensei evaluated their abilities. It not only cutified the image of shinobi to the villagers, but also helped ease their transfer into the shinobi world with familiar tasks.
After that, Gai would constantly bombard him with joint training requests, possible joint missions—anything that allowed him to drag Kakashi’s team into competition with his own.
“Gai?”
The two of them looked back up the staircase as Kurenai Yuhi and Asuma Sarutobi came into view.
“Kurenai!” said Gai with a smile. “I hope you acquired the genin of your choice?”
She nodded. “I did.”
“Who’s this with you?”
She smiled. “Come on, Gai. You know him.”
Gai squinted at him. “...His face does indeed seem familiar.”
“Really, dude? I know we weren’t that close, but goddamn,” said Asuma.
“ASUMA SARUTOBI!” Gai reared back. “HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN YOU?”
The man scratched his chin with a sad smile. “...I was gone for four years, so I don’t blame you.”
“Nonsense. The fault is mine for forgetting about you no matter how many years you were gone,” said Gai with a broad grin. “To make up for my failure to recognise you, I will treat the three of you to a meal in celebration of successful genin draft days… you did receive the genin you wanted, right?”
“I did,” Asuma replied.
Gai turned back to Kakashi. “Isn’t this wonderful news, my eternal rival?”
“...It’s wonderful news, Gai,” Kakashi replied, knowing full well his response wouldn’t change anything that man said next.
“Off we go, then. For today, you’ll not worry about food and drink!”
Asuma gave Gai a good-natured slap to the shoulder. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
“Thank you, Gai,” said Kurenai, walking on Asuma’s right. “It seems someone’s forgotten basic courtesy when offered a gift.
“Nonsense,” Gai laughed. “I can feel the strength of Asuma’s gratitude in my shoulder—he’s indeed quite strong. We should go a few rounds sometime, no?”
Asuma hummed. “You know, I’d like to see how I’d match up against you. I might not be S-ranked yet, but fighting the strongest shinobi in our village is a good way to feel the gap between us.”
“The debate of who is the stronger shinobi between myself and my eternal rival is a tale as old as time—however, I will do my best!”
“...Please don’t. I’d like to keep all my limbs by the end of this.”
Gai and Kurenai laughed. Meanwhile, Kakashi trailed behind them, torn between going home and following them. Gai would hunt him down and drag him to the restaurant anyway, so there was no point in pretending he had a choice in the matter.
His gaze wandered to the back of Asuma’s head.
If nothing else, he’d be able to figure out just what kind of man—what kind of shinobi—he’d entrusted Minato-sensei’s son to.