Suicide
Hatake Sakumo's four visitors had already left.
Now alone in the silent room, he sat on the floor, staring blankly into space.
The sorrow in Sakumo's eyes was deep, sharp, and cold—like ice that would never melt.
His thoughts wandered to a time long past, to when his father was still alive.
They had once stood together atop the Hokage Rock, overlooking the entire village of Konoha bathed in the golden light of dusk.
His father had said with pride, "Sakumo, this is our home. We must protect it, no matter the cost. That is the Will of Fire."
Back then, Sakumo had been just a boy. He had looked up at his father and asked innocently, "What is the Will of Fire?"
His father had smiled.
"The Will of Fire means that we protect the village by protecting the next generation. We live and die so that they may carry on. Our sacrifices kindle the fire that lights their path. Just as I protect you now, someday, you will protect others. That is what it means to be a leaf of Konoha—where the leaves dance, the fire will burn, and the village will continue to grow."
Sakumo had taken those words to heart. When he became a shinobi, he made them the foundation of his way of life.
He was strong. Ruthless when duty demanded it. But he also cared deeply for his comrades. And when faced with the choice between completing a mission or saving a comrade, he always chose the latter—without hesitation.
But now…
Now everyone said he was wrong.
The villagers whispered behind his back. Fellow shinobi averted their eyes. Even the Hokage, the one meant to embody the Will of Fire itself, had turned cold.
Sakumo sat in the silence and asked himself: Was I truly wrong? Was the Will of Fire my father taught me… false?
To question that creed was to unravel everything he had ever stood for. Everything he had fought and bled for.
He rose slowly and walked to his bed. On the floor, beside it, lay the White Light Chakra Sabre, its polished blade still glinting faintly in the moonlight. He picked it up and stared at it, unseeing.
Konoha had once given him something to believe in. Now, it had taken that away.
He felt hollow. His will shattered.
Drawing the blade, he murmured, voice raw and distant, "Kakashi... forgive me. I'm sorry. Live well, my son."
Outside the room, a voice—low and grieving—answered, "I will. I'll look after him. I'm sorry... I couldn't do more."
Sakumo closed his eyes.
"There's no need to apologize," he said. "With you here... I can rest."
A moment later, steel plunged into flesh. The silence returned, broken only by the sound of blood dripping onto the wooden floor.
Outside, the shinobi known as Chiba whispered, "Goodbye, Sakumo. You are no longer the White Fang of Konoha. You've broken free of its chains."
> [You have witnessed the death of an important figure: Hatake Sakumo. 5000 Witness Points acquired.]
Chiba vanished with the Body Flicker Technique, leaving only the scent of blood behind.
---
Elsewhere
Kakashi Hatake trained alone in the woods, striking tree after tree with furious precision. His breathing was ragged, sweat dripping down his face.
Suddenly, he froze. His legs buckled.
His throat tightened, like an unseen hand had gripped it.
An overwhelming sense of loss crashed over him.
Something... someone... was gone.
Kakashi gasped and stumbled upright, heart pounding. Without thinking, he sprinted home, branches whipping past his face.
The closer he got, the stronger the dread in his chest became.
When he reached the door, he stopped.
His hand trembled as he reached for the doorknob. Every instinct screamed at him not to open it—that on the other side was something he could never unsee.
The metallic scent hit him first.
Blood.
With shaking fingers, he pushed the door open.
And there, lying on the floor in a pool of crimson, was his father. The White Light Chakra Sabre rested in his lifeless hand.
Sakumo's eyes were closed. His face was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
"...Father…"
Kakashi's knees buckled. His breath caught in his throat.
He collapsed beside the body, grabbing his father's cold hand with both of his own. His tears fell freely, silently.
He didn't scream. He couldn't. The grief was too deep.
Eventually, the pain overwhelmed him, and Kakashi lost consciousness.
---
The Next Day – Konoha Hospital
Kakashi awoke in a white bed. His heart pounded.
"Father!" he gasped, sitting bolt upright.
But there was no one else in the room—only Chiba and Uzumaki Kushina sat nearby, both wearing somber expressions.
The truth hit him again.
It hadn't been a nightmare.
His father was gone.
Kakashi covered his face with his hands and sobbed uncontrollably.
"Teacher Chiba... my father is dead…"
Though he was already a Chūnin, already a veteran of real battles—he was still just seven years old.
And now, he was alone.
Kushina bit her lip, her own eyes wet with tears. She reached out but couldn't find the words.
Chiba rested a hand on Kakashi's shoulder, silent but firm, a quiet pillar of support.
---
A Few Days Later – Funeral
Hatake Sakumo's funeral was quiet. Too quiet.
Only a few of his old comrades attended. There were no crowds, no long lines of mourners. Just Kakashi, Chiba, and Kushina.
Kakashi stood motionless before the tombstone, his face pale, his voice a whisper.
"Why, Teacher Chiba… why did Father kill himself?"
Chiba exhaled slowly. "Because he was betrayed. Betrayed by the very ideals he fought to protect."
Kakashi's lips trembled. "The Will of Fire...?"
Kushina and Chiba remained by his side in silence.
---
Later, long after the others had gone, a single figure appeared before the tomb.
Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, stood silently.
The pipe in his hand trembled slightly.
He had never intended for this to happen.
His plan was simple: relieve Sakumo of duty, let public opinion settle, and then bring him back. No punishment. Just time.
But he had underestimated the depth of Sakumo's guilt.
Of his conviction.
The White Fang of Konoha—dead by his own hand.
Hiruzen closed his eyes and lowered his head.
This loss would echo for years to come—not only for Kakashi, but for Konoha itself.
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