Chapter 3: The Will of Steel
"It was my father's own choice."
Kakashi's voice remained cold and detached. Even though most of his face was hidden behind a mask, the desolation and gray hollowness in his eyes were stark—undeniably real. That emptiness wasn't an act.
Because this was Kakashi.
And the emotions flickering in his eyes were the clearest reflection of what lay in his heart.
Layered atop that was the depth and intensity brought by memories of his previous life. A fusion of two lifetimes' worth of pain and clarity made his gaze cut straight to the soul.
Across from him, the Third Hokage—Hiruzen Sarutobi—felt the full weight of that look. Deep guilt welled up in his chest.
Kakashi's mother had died years ago on a mission. Now, his father had taken his own life at home.
And this boy, barely eight years old, was left to bear it all.
It was a scene so tragic, it could shatter one's heart.
And in this moment, it laid bare one of the Third Hokage's most fatal flaws—an intrinsic softness. Be it in domestic or foreign affairs, this weakness rooted deep within him was the most unfit trait for a leader.
Kakashi had no idea what was going through the Hokage's mind.
But if he had, he would've only sneered in contempt.
Hiruzen Sarutobi was not an evil man. Not cold-blooded. Not sinister.
But for a hidden village like Konoha, that only made him even more dangerous.
A kind, indecisive leader often caused more harm than a cruel one.
"I understand… You have my word, Kakashi. Everything ends here. As the Hokage, I promise you this!"
Sarutobi's expression turned solemn, more serious than Kakashi had ever seen. He meant it. He could no longer allow this to spiral out of control. Sakumo's death had already cost the village its sharpest blade. If things continued to fester, the damage would only deepen.
It was as if, in this moment, the Third Hokage had finally awakened—resolved to act decisively.
But Kakashi remained unmoved, emotionless, as if none of it concerned him.
He simply bowed his head and said, "Thank you, Lord Hokage."
His words were polite.
But utterly void of warmth.
Sarutobi couldn't help but sigh again internally.
Danzo… this time, you really went too far.
Of course, he ignored the role he himself had played in all this.
Danzo had indeed lit the fuse.
But it was Sarutobi's own hesitation—his weakness, his inaction—that had allowed things to escalate. That had buried the White Fang of the Leaf.
No one would ever truly understand the depths of despair that had driven Sakumo Hatake—a man once feared across all five great nations—to take his own life.
For a man like that, suicide required far more courage than dying on the battlefield.
But Hiruzen… he would likely never understand that.
At most, he'd tell himself he'd simply "hesitated a bit."
"You should take some time to rest, Kakashi," Sarutobi began again, voice softening. "I can—"
"Lord Hokage," Kakashi interrupted suddenly, raising his head. His gaze was sharp, steely. "I formally request to join the Anbu."
Sarutobi blinked in surprise. "The Anbu?"
Just before entering the Hokage's office, Kakashi had been asking himself what he should do next. The only thing he was certain of was this:
He wanted to live.
In this cruel world, that was a simple yet profoundly difficult wish.
Because the world of shinobi was soaked in blood.
And because he was Kakashi Hatake, son of the disgraced White Fang.
He was born into anything but a quiet life.
If he wanted to survive—not just through the looming war, but in this vicious system—then he needed strength.
Strength beyond comparison. Power that eclipsed even the mightiest of shinobi.
And Kakashi knew better than anyone just how terrifying the enemies lurking in this world's shadows truly were.
For a shinobi, there were two ways to grow stronger: constant, relentless training… and real combat.
The Anbu provided both.
With the perfect blend of instincts and memories from two lifetimes, Kakashi was already a monster in the making.
He had graduated from the academy at five.
Now eight, his power already rivaled seasoned chunin.
What he needed now was a stage to sharpen his edge—fast.
"The Anbu… Are you sure about this?" Sarutobi asked, brow furrowed with concern.
Kakashi's abilities might barely meet the requirements, but his age—and the emotional trauma he had just experienced—made Sarutobi hesitate.
Witnessing his father's suicide one day, then entering the village's darkest, bloodiest division the next?
It didn't feel right.
"I'm sure. Please grant me permission, Lord Hokage," Kakashi said firmly, eyes filled with unwavering determination.
As their eyes met, a flicker of understanding passed through Sarutobi's heart.
So this is how he plans to escape…
Maybe… that wasn't such a bad idea.
Still, as he looked at this child—this small, fragile boy—he couldn't bring himself to give a definite answer.
"I'll need time to think it over," Sarutobi said after a pause. "You should go home for now, Kakashi. Rest for a few days. I'll give you an answer soon."
It was classic Sarutobi: unable to decide, so he delayed.
"Yes, sir."
Kakashi replied softly, then turned and walked out of the Hokage's grand office—the most revered space in all of Konohagakure.
Oh, Sakumo… why did you have to be so stubborn?
If only you had laid low for a while, let things blow over…
Now you've left your son all alone in this world. How could you bear it?
Sarutobi watched the boy's retreating figure.
He reached for his pipe, took a deep drag, and exhaled a long plume of smoke.
His eyes grew darker, deeper—as if wrestling with truths he didn't want to face.
Meanwhile—
In a hidden, underground base on the eastern edge of the village,
another man had just received the news of Sakumo's suicide.
Shimura Danzo.
Even he—Konoha's shadow—froze for a moment in disbelief.
Suicide?
The White Fang?
That didn't make any sense.
For a man like that—who had roamed the ninja world for over two decades, his hands soaked in blood—to take his own life?
It sounded like a bad joke.
Even Danzo, who had deliberately leaked details of the failed mission and incited lower-ranked ninja and villagers to turn on Sakumo, hadn't actually intended to drive the man to death.
Sakumo Hatake had always been Konoha's sharpest blade.
He'd slain countless enemies for the village.
But now?
A dead White Fang… was worthless.