Sunlight filtered through sparse leaves, scattering broken flecks of brightness across the rippling riverway.
The water wasn't clear. It carried dead branches washed down from upstream, discarded wrappers, and unidentifiable scraps of junk that bobbed along the surface.
Uzumaki Naruto swung a long-handled net with all his might, fishing trash out of the water while complaining nonstop.
"Ugh! Why are D-rank missions always stuff like cleaning rivers and chasing cats and dogs?! I'm the guy who's gonna become Hokage!"
Not far away, Uchiha Sasuke held a pair of metal tongs, neatly pinching plastic bags and filthy rags out of cracks between stones and tossing them into a burlap sack on the bank.
His expression was focused—only the tight line of his lips gave away a faint, restrained irritation.
Haruno Sakura worked onshore, organizing the filled sacks. Every so often she glanced at Sasuke with worry, then shot an exasperated look at Naruto.
"Naruto! Watch your movements! You're splashing water all over Sasuke-kun! And stop talking—work!"
Their jōnin instructor, Hatake Kakashi, lounged comfortably on a thick tree branch overhead, back against the trunk, one leg dangling.
His one exposed eye was completely absorbed in the orange-covered Icha Icha Paradise, as if the three students' struggle against garbage belonged to an entirely different world.
A breeze stirred. Pages rustled softly.
Then—
A figure appeared without warning on the far end of the branch beside Kakashi.
Animal mask. Standard ANBU uniform.
Soundless. Like a ghost.
He leaned in and murmured a few words into Kakashi's ear, voice so low Naruto couldn't possibly hear from below.
Kakashi's page-turning froze.
The pupil of his visible eye tightened a fraction. The laziness drained away like a receding tide.
He snapped the book shut with a crisp clap, smoothly tucked it into his pouch, and gave the ANBU a nearly imperceptible nod.
As the messenger vanished, Kakashi shifted forward and dropped from the branch, landing as lightly as a falling leaf.
Naruto's sharp eyes caught the movement immediately.
He straightened, jabbed a finger at Kakashi, and shouted in indignation.
"Hey! Kakashi-sensei! Don't tell me you're running away again! This is exactly like yesterday! We're down here busting our butts picking up trash and you're going to slack off! That's so unfair, y'know?!"
Kakashi stood straight, his visible eye curving into that familiar crescent of casual cheer.
"Aaah, sorry, sorry, Naruto. Life is full of unexpected turns… and I think I may have… gotten lost again."
He spread his hands in helpless apology.
"So—good luck, everyone! I'm counting on you!"
Before the words were even done—
Poof.
A small pop, a puff of white smoke, and he was gone, leaving only a few leaves spinning in the wake of displaced air.
"AAAAAGH! Seriously! Kakashi-sensei!!!"
Naruto stomped, so mad he almost threw the net into the river.
"Every time! Sneaky adult! 'Got lost' my butt!"
Sakura pinched the bridge of her nose. "Kakashi-sensei is… unbelievably irresponsible."
She glanced at Sasuke—only to find him barely sparing Kakashi's disappearance a look before returning to work, calmly clamping another mud-caked rag with the tongs.
No surprise. No complaint. A cool, almost indifferent acceptance.
After all, that monstrous tree—rising in an instant, blotting out the sky—was still visible if you looked up.
An abnormality like that wasn't routine.
Kakashi being dragged away at a sensitive time, as the "Copy Ninja" with a Sharingan, was the most normal thing in the world.
Sakura sighed. "Enough, Naruto. Stop whining and work. The sooner we finish, the sooner we go back."
By the time they were still arguing over trash, Kakashi had already appeared at the top floor of the Hokage Tower, in front of the heavy wooden door.
It slid open soundlessly.
He stepped into the office that symbolized Konoha's highest authority.
The light inside was dimmer than outside. The air smelled of paper, ink, and something intangible—weight.
Tsunade sat behind the broad desk. Her brilliant blonde hair was tied back, and the violet diamond mark on her forehead caught the sunlight with a faint shimmer.
Unlike the overwhelming presence she'd shown at yesterday's jōnin assembly, she wore the Hokage's white cloak loosely, almost casually.
After the decisive vote, she was now officially the Hokage candidate.
The formal inauguration had not yet happened, but the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, had clearly been shaken to the core by Danzō's betrayal and Root's collapse.
His spirit was exhausted.
Most power had already shifted into Tsunade's hands.
Kakashi's gaze swept the room out of habit.
To the left: Shikaku Nara, jōnin commander, buried in a mountain of documents and scrolls. His pen barely paused; his brows were knotted in concentration as he handled the administrative workload.
That wasn't surprising. Shikaku was Konoha's brain at the leadership level.
Kakashi could already guess what would come next: if Tsunade truly hated paperwork the way her legend said she did, Shikaku becoming the official Hokage advisor was practically inevitable.
Though…
Kakashi's thoughts snagged on yesterday—on Tsunade's ruthless efficiency and the way she had seized the meeting's flow like a battlefield.
Does Tsunade-sama really not understand governance?
His eyes drifted right—back to Tsunade.
Her sitting posture was, in a word, Tsunade.
She wasn't hunched over documents like Shikaku. She wasn't receiving reports like most Hokage.
Instead, she rested her elbows on the desk, fingers interlaced, chin lightly propped on her hands—eyes half-lidded, lashes casting soft shadows under her lids.
Her breathing was steady and slow, like she was taking an afternoon nap, completely out of sync with the tension filling the room.
Except for the small space near her right elbow, the desk was almost empty—an absurd contrast to Shikaku's paper mountain.
That lazy, carefree vibe matched Kakashi's mental image of the legendary Sannin and the village's infamous "big spender" perfectly.
Kakashi felt some inner tension loosen, and even a strange, nostalgic familiarity rose.
Yeah. This feels like Tsunade-sama.
Then his gaze shifted further right, and a subtle unease stirred.
Someone stood there in an ANBU cloak, animal mask hiding their face.
But unlike typical ANBU, they weren't lurking in shadow or standing at Tsunade's back like a guard.
They were in front of a line of tall archive shelves, rapidly flipping through thick files.
Most striking of all was the hair.
Golden—blindingly so—falling in long strands on either side of the mask like flowing sunlight.
It was so conspicuous it felt wrong for ANBU.
Yet in Konoha, aside from Tsunade herself, Kakashi couldn't immediately think of anyone else with such unmistakable blonde hair.
What truly made his nerves tighten, however, was this—
Even with his elite-level senses, he couldn't detect a single trace of chakra from that masked ANBU.
Not even a flicker.
The chakra concealment was so perfect it bordered on unnatural.
In less than half a second, Kakashi finished his scan and filed away his silent questions.
He stepped forward, bowed slightly, and spoke evenly.
"Acting Hokage-sama. You called for me?"
Tsunade's half-closed eyes snapped open.
In an instant, the drowsy air vanished. Her gaze turned sharp and clear—like a predator rising from sleep.
She lowered her hands and straightened. The Hokage's authority settled onto her shoulders as naturally as breath.
She nodded.
"Yeah, Kakashi. Two things. First—about you."
Her eyes fixed on Kakashi's single visible eye.
"With your instincts and everything you've been through, you've probably figured it out already. Danzō's sins weren't just the scraps we read out yesterday."
Kakashi stood straight, face hidden by his mask, expression unreadable.
He didn't show surprise. He didn't demand details. He didn't offer indignation.
He only dipped his head once—silent acknowledgement.
In the shinobi world, information was everything.
Some truths were safest when fewer people held them.
Even among jōnin, who could guarantee absolute loyalty?
Clan interests. Personal ambition. Selling a village's secrets wasn't unheard of in Konoha's history.
Kakashi was long past being shocked by how darkness worked.
Still, a thought surfaced quietly in his chest:
If Tsunade-sama is talking about me… does that mean something from my past was tied to Root? Yamato? Or… something else?
Tsunade seemed to read the movement behind his calm.
She didn't waste time.
"Back then—the rumors, the pressure, the wave of public attacks that crushed the White Fang…"
Her voice was flat, clinical.
"The source and the one pulling the strings was Danzō. Root planned it, spread it, and stirred it."
As she spoke, she casually lifted a worn scroll from the desk and flicked it toward Kakashi.
It cut the air cleanly and landed precisely in his hands.
The moment Kakashi caught it, his body jolted as if struck by an invisible current.
His pupil contracted to a needle point.
For a split second, he was back in those gray, rain-soaked days filled with whispers.
Back to the sight of his father—Hatake Sakumo—eyes dimmed, spirit broken, choosing to end everything by his own hand.
Years of shinobi instinct carried him through the motion, but after he caught the scroll, he stood still.
The office was silent.
Only Shikaku's pen made soft scratching sounds.
Only the blonde-masked ANBU turned pages in faint, dry rustles.
Seconds stretched like centuries.
Finally, Kakashi exhaled a long breath.
"…So that's how it was."
His voice came out low and rough, heavy with fatigue.
He undid the knot and unrolled the scroll right there, hands trembling so slightly it would have been invisible to anyone less observant than Tsunade.
His eye swept over cold, matter-of-fact lines.
It detailed the buried history:
The White Fang of Konoha, Hatake Sakumo—power, prestige, achievements so towering they could eclipse even the famous Sannin.
To a man like Danzō, obsessively coveting the Hokage seat and treating Hiruzen as the only true obstacle, Sakumo's existence was intolerable.
And Sakumo was not a "Hokage bloodline" figure. Hiruzen personally did not oppose him, even recognized his capability—
but in the deepest part of political instinct, allowing a non-faction figure of overwhelming fame to become Hokage was not something the system would protect.
Danzō exploited that gap.
Root's intelligence network and propaganda machine turned a single incident—Sakumo abandoning a mission to save comrades—into a weapon, constructing and amplifying public condemnation until it crushed his reputation.
No one expected what followed.
That the man feared on battlefields would be so fragile inside—
that he would choose suicide.
The report ended with a cold assessment:
Konoha had needlessly lost a top-tier combat asset—an enormous strategic failure.
And it "proved" Sakumo's temperament was unfit for Hokage-level responsibility.
Kakashi's gaze lingered at the end.
Then he slowly rolled the scroll back up.
He looked up.
Mask hiding his face, but his eye was a storm—pain, anger, grief, mockery—
until it finally settled into something almost hollow.
In his heart, he whispered to a father long gone:
Old man… you really were pathetic.
Behind the desk, Tsunade watched every flicker.
Her amber eyes narrowed slightly.
As expected.
The White Fang's death was a deep wound from Kakashi's youth.
But the years after—forming bonds with Obito and Rin, serving under Minato, sharing life-and-death—
those bonds had at least partially stitched that first wound closed.
Kakashi understood his father's choice now.
Time and comradeship had built scar tissue.
That trauma, while still painful, was no longer a forbidden zone.
What truly hollowed Kakashi out—
what turned him into someone living like a walking corpse—
was what came after the White Fang.
The people who became his new light and anchor… dying one after another.
Until he stood alone, surrounded by graves and names carved into stone.
Did this truth hurt?
Of course.
It was like a dull blade sawing at flesh.
Did it anger him?
Of course.
It could burn a man's mind.
But after more than a decade, that pain and anger had already been gnawing him daily.
Day after day. Year after year.
Even the sharpest agony eventually became bone-deep numbness.
This "new" truth was merely a stone dropped into an abyss—one thud, no ripples.
Tsunade broke the silence.
"Looks like you can take it, Kakashi."
Kakashi raised his eye.
Calm returned—almost lazy again, as if nothing happened.
He bowed slightly.
"Duty, Tsunade-sama. Just a shinobi's job."
He placed the scroll at the edge of her desk.
Tsunade gave a short laugh, the sound carrying her usual bluntness.
"As the best medical ninja around, I care a lot about my people's mental health."
Then her tone shifted.
She leaned forward, fingers interlaced on the desk, gaze sharpening into pressure.
"But we can do your psychological evaluation later. Right now—here's why I called you."
She paused deliberately, then said the name like a verdict.
"Uchiha Sasuke."
Kakashi's body tensed for a heartbeat.
He repeated softly, "Uchiha Sasuke…"
Tsunade met his eye directly.
"You're Sasuke's jōnin instructor. More importantly… you and that kid share a path that's too similar."
Her voice was steady, controlled.
"So I'm telling you. And I'm leaving the decision to you. You're the best person to decide how to handle it."
Kakashi's heart sank.
He straightened.
His eye locked on Tsunade, waiting.
Tsunade didn't make him wait long.
"The one who kept pushing the Uchiha further and further away from Konoha—who tightened the pressure until Itachi Uchiha had no choice but to shoulder the stain and slaughter his clan…"
Her voice turned cold enough to bite.
"…was Danzō Shimura."
It was like a silent thunderbolt detonating in Kakashi's skull.
His pupil shrank again.
All leisure vanished from his eye, replaced by shock and an icy dread.
He turned sharply toward Shikaku.
Yesterday, at the jōnin assembly, Shikaku had only mentioned one part:
that after the massacre, Danzō used authority to seize the Uchiha corpses and harvest Sharingan for disgusting transplant experiments.
That alone had been obscene.
But Shikaku had not said—
that Danzō was the one who engineered the tragedy from the beginning.
Shikaku, meanwhile, continued reviewing paperwork as if nothing had been said.
No pause. No reaction. Not even a twitch of the hand.
Kakashi felt a bitter helplessness and a quiet irony curl in his chest.
This was the shinobi world.
Truth was the most expensive political currency.
When to reveal it, and to whom, was always calculation.
Shikaku's silence was an answer all by itself.
Tsunade continued, still in that flat, factual tone.
"Itachi didn't do it because he wanted to. He made a deal with Danzō."
"The price was killing every Uchiha with his own hands."
"In exchange, Danzō allowed his little brother—Uchiha Sasuke—to live."
She paused, then added:
"And Itachi didn't do it alone. There was another Uchiha involved—someone with a Sharingan. Their identity is unknown."
Kakashi's brow furrowed deeply.
As Team Seven's jōnin instructor, he was as close to Sasuke as anyone in the village.
He understood how Sasuke's hatred for Itachi had become the single pillar holding his life upright.
Kakashi had always thought Sasuke's survival was a stroke of luck.
He had never imagined it was a blood-soaked bargain purchased by a brother's hands and a brother's ruin.
In an instant, Kakashi mapped Itachi's role:
A brother forced into atrocity, a scapegoat built to carry Konoha's darkness—
a sacrificed piece.
Kakashi closed his eye briefly, then opened it again, exhaustion pooling at the bottom.
"…What a mess."
The truth was too heavy.
If revealed, it could shatter Sasuke's mind.
"Looks like you've already put it together," Tsunade said, reading his reaction.
She leaned back and folded her arms.
"The situation is what it is. The truth of the Uchiha massacre, and what Itachi carried… whether to tell Sasuke—"
She let the sentence hang, then finished cleanly.
"I'm leaving it to you, Kakashi. You're his teacher. You decide."
Kakashi lifted a hand and scratched at his cheek through the mask—an unconscious gesture that betrayed how much pressure he felt.
After a few seconds, he asked the key question.
"Then Danzō… how is the village going to deal with him?"
His voice had turned slightly harder.
If Sasuke learned the truth, Danzō's existence became the biggest fuse in Konoha.
Kakashi needed to know where the village stood.
Tsunade's eyes flashed with a cold edge, then settled.
"Danzō is under the Third Hokage's authority."
"But he will never appear in front of Konoha's people again."
Her tone made it clear:
Danzō's political life was over.
His freedom was over.
Only the method of his ending remained.
Kakashi nodded, then asked again.
"And what does the village want from Sasuke?"
Tsunade clicked her tongue as if the question was annoying.
"A brat. What does the village need from him?"
"He can do whatever he wants—as long as he doesn't defect or cause a major disaster."
She waved her hand dismissively.
"Do it your way, Kakashi. You're his jōnin instructor. You handle it."
Kakashi lowered his head once.
She'd given him the information.
She'd handed him the choice.
Now the responsibility was his.
He bowed.
"Understood, Tsunade-sama. I'll take my leave."
He turned.
The movement was still Kakashi—casual, light—
but his steps were heavier than when he'd entered.
The door slid shut behind him.
Kakashi didn't immediately vanish with Shunshin.
He walked down the corridor at a pace that looked lazy but carried a mind in turmoil.
Each footstep echoed faintly on polished floor.
Each step felt like it was knocking on his own heart.
Should I tell Sasuke now?
The thought surfaced—and Kakashi crushed it instantly.
No.
Too early.
Far too early.
Sasuke was like a seedling just pushing through storm-torn soil.
Could his mind withstand a truth this dark—layered with betrayal and calculation?
Was his strength enough to keep him from being swallowed by hatred the moment the target of his vengeance changed?
Were the bonds he had just begun to form—with Naruto, with Sakura, even with Kakashi—
strong enough to anchor him when the abyss opened?
The answers were all no.
If Sasuke learned the truth now, it would swallow him, twist him, maybe break him.
Kakashi drew a line in his mind.
At minimum, Sasuke needed to grow stronger.
Strong enough that his Sharingan could awaken and stabilize at the third tomoe.
Only then might he have the power to look into darkness without losing himself.
Kakashi exhaled slowly.
Sunlight caught the tips of his silver hair, but it couldn't chase the shadow from his eye.
What a pain…
The old thought returned, filled with helplessness.
If only I could talk to Itachi himself.
If he could hear Itachi's true intentions, maybe—just maybe—he could find a path that hurt Sasuke the least.
Back inside the Hokage office, once Kakashi's footsteps had fully faded, Shikaku finally stopped his pen.
He raised his eyes from the mountain of paperwork and looked at Tsunade.
For the first time, worry broke through the usual calm intelligence on his face.
"Tsunade-sama."
His tone was steady, but cautious.
"Are you sure it's wise to leave that decision entirely to Kakashi?"
"Sasuke's hatred for Itachi is what keeps him moving. If he learns the truth, his hatred might shift—away from a rogue ninja and toward the village's leadership itself."
"That would be planting an extremely unstable seed of resentment inside the village."
Tsunade waved the concern away as if it were a fly.
She even picked up her tea, sipping with irritating calm.
Only after swallowing did she answer, casual and blunt.
"Heh. Danzō hasn't died yet, has he?"
"And besides," she continued, eyes sharpening slightly, "Danzō isn't the only hand behind that tragedy."
"Don't forget what the reports said—there was another Uchiha involved. Someone unidentified. Someone who played a key role."
She set the cup down.
"At worst, Sasuke's hatred will point at Danzō and that unknown Uchiha."
"No matter what, it won't turn into Sasuke declaring war on the entire village."
"Kakashi isn't an idiot. He knows where the line is."
In truth, Tsunade saw even further than Shikaku.
Sasuke's problem, at this point in time, had no clean solution.
A clan annihilated by his own brother. The only brother left both murderer and protector.
Any reaction from Sasuke—no matter how extreme—would be understandable.
Trying to forcibly suppress it, or plastering it over with lies and comfort, was like sealing a volcano with paper.
It would only erupt worse later.
But a problem that couldn't be solved now didn't mean it would be unsolvable forever.
Foreign knowledge and power had already begun to reshape the shinobi world.
The pace of change would only accelerate.
Problems born from development must be solved through development.
When they finally developed real, reliable resurrection—
then they could simply pull the entire Uchiha clan back from the Pure Land.
And end the problem at the root.
A clean solution.
The kind only "progress" could deliver.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 147)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter185)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter105)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter215)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 185
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 170
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass Volume2/1
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 206
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 190
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 154
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player Volume4/23
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 106
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 125
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 105
I Can Copy Unique Skills 90
Summoning an Evil God, but the 70
Supernatural Multiverse 90
My Harem Is Indescribable 80
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 86
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 68
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 81
Still playing traditional Honk 65
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 65
What Should I Do After Switchi - Volume2/3
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 57
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 45
Transmigrated as Sukuna 59
Checking In in Demon Slayer 59
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 73
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 45
My Best Friend Into a Slime? 36
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 40
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 60
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 30
Why did they assign me to Uma 35
MYGO Beauties 43
DanMachi: Emiya the Giant Hero 30
The Gacha Merchant Who Started 31
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