The Hokage's office was unusually quiet.
The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the tall windows, painting long streaks of gold across the tatami floor. Behind the massive desk piled high with reports, Hiruzen Sarutobi sat in silence, his old fingers slowly flipping through a stack of thick folders.
Each one carried the crest of the Uchiha clan.
Even though the clan had been annihilated, its name still lingered in every corner of the village like a restless shadow. And in this moment, the Third Hokage felt that weight more than ever.
His eyes, weary yet sharp, paused on one particular file. The neat handwriting across the cover read: Uchiha Gen.
A minor name, buried in the long list of Uchiha members who once lived in Konoha. To most people, he was a forgettable face, a child who had never left a mark on the world. Yet for some reason, Hiruzen's instincts told him not to pass it by.
"Kakashi."
His voice broke the silence, halting the silver-haired jonin who had just turned to leave.
Kakashi stopped, glancing back in surprise. "Yes, Lord Hokage?"
Hiruzen adjusted his glasses, his tone slow and thoughtful. "You were classmates with Uchiha Gen back at the Academy, were you not? Do you remember him?"
Kakashi frowned, searching his memory. His expression was blank at first, then faint recognition flickered. "Uchiha Gen… Honestly, I don't recall much about him. He wasn't outstanding like Shisui, and he wasn't troublesome like Obito. He just… existed."
He scratched his head, as though embarrassed by his own lack of memory. "If I remember correctly, his grades were even worse than Obito's. But his theory scores… they weren't bad. Yes, that was it. He seemed to understand lessons well, but he couldn't translate them into practice."
Hiruzen's gaze deepened. His wrinkled fingers tapped lightly on the dossier before him, as though weighing Kakashi's words.
After a moment of silence, he drew out a thin scroll hidden among the documents. It was slightly yellowed with age, yet preserved carefully, almost reverently.
"This," Hiruzen murmured, "is an essay Uchiha Gen once wrote during his Academy days. A simple assignment. But…" His voice grew soft, tinged with emotion. "…I cannot ignore it."
Kakashi tilted his head, faintly curious. "An essay?"
The Hokage unrolled the scroll, the elegant strokes of Gen's calligraphy unfolding across the desk. The handwriting was delicate yet steady, displaying a discipline far beyond his years.
Hiruzen cleared his throat and began to read aloud.
> "I have a dream."
The words, simple yet powerful, echoed in the stillness of the office.
Kakashi felt a strange shiver run down his spine. Without warning, the Sharingan under his forehead protector burned faintly, as if stirred awake. His hand instinctively rose to touch his eye.
"…Strange," he muttered under his breath.
Hiruzen paused, giving him a concerned glance. "Kakashi? Are you unwell?"
"I'm fine," Kakashi said quickly, though his brows remained furrowed. The ache in his left eye persisted, sharp and unsettling. He tried to brush it off, yet the unease lingered.
Hiruzen continued reading.
> "The ideal of building a peaceful world is to use true love to influence the people of the world."
The moment those words fell, Kakashi's Sharingan pulsed violently. His vision blurred, a sharp sting lancing through his skull. He winced, pressing a hand over his eye.
The Hokage's voice grew alarmed. "Kakashi—!"
"It's nothing," Kakashi insisted, though sweat formed on his brow. "Perhaps… I've been overusing Obito's eye. The chakra drain has been heavy lately."
But even as he spoke, he knew it wasn't true. This reaction was different—something in Gen's words resonated with the Sharingan, as if awakening a hidden frequency deep within its power.
Hiruzen's gaze lingered on Kakashi, but at last he nodded slowly and returned to the essay.
> "Love can change everything, embrace everything. Even if I am a narrow-minded Uchiha, I still hope the world achieves true peace."
Kakashi's body tensed. The resonance in his eye grew stronger, unbearable. For a fleeting second, he thought he could hear Obito's voice—distant, sorrowful, yet filled with hope.
He clenched his jaw, refusing to let his discomfort show.
Hiruzen continued, his tone grave.
> "Actually, every student in the class hoped to become Hokage and change this world—including the most excellent Kakashi, or even the most foolish Obito."
At the mention of Obito, Kakashi let out a strained chuckle. "The most foolish… yes, that sounds like him."
Hiruzen allowed himself a faint smile. For once, the heaviness in the air softened. He lifted his eyes from the scroll. "And you, Kakashi? Was it not your dream once, to become Hokage?"
For a moment, Kakashi was silent. Memories of his childhood flickered—his father's proud smile, Obito's clumsy determination, Rin's gentle encouragement. Finally, he gave a small nod. "Yes. That was my wish."
Yet even as he spoke, the ache in his eye deepened, spreading exhaustion through his entire body. He took a long breath, steadying himself.
Hiruzen read the final lines aloud, his voice hushed.
> "Therefore, I sincerely hope that I can become an excellent ninja, or even Hokage, to revitalize Konoha and the Uchiha."
Silence settled over the room. The words lingered like smoke, impossible to dispel.
Kakashi closed his eyes tightly, sweat dampening his temples. The Sharingan inside him seemed alive, responding to each sentence with greater intensity. Deep within, a hidden will stirred—something he had never sensed before.
Hiruzen rolled up the scroll and placed it carefully aside. His expression was heavy, tinged with regret. "Did he truly desire peace? If so, where did it all go wrong?"
He stood slowly, walking toward the window. Beyond the glass stretched the vast village of Konoha, rooftops bathed in the dimming glow of sunset. The warm lights flickering from every household painted an illusion of peace.
"Uchiha Gen…" Hiruzen whispered, voice heavy with sorrow. "There were many like him—children full of ideals, like Shisui, who carried noble dreams. Yet we overlooked them. Perhaps… perhaps it was our failure from the beginning."
Behind him, Kakashi shifted uncomfortably. A strange irritation gnawed at his chest.
What's the point of saying this now? he thought bitterly. The Uchiha are gone. Regret won't change anything.
At last, he spoke aloud, his tone sharper than intended. "Lord Hokage, with all respect… is this really the time to reminisce?"
The words struck Hiruzen like a slap. He turned, startled, then sighed deeply, acknowledging his loss of composure. "You're right. Forgive me."
Kakashi straightened, his usual calm mask slipping back into place. "Then allow me to fulfill my mission. I will seek out Jiraiya immediately."
"Very well," Hiruzen said softly, watching him leave.
---
The night air outside the village was cool and crisp. As Kakashi passed beyond Konoha's gates, he paused, glancing back. The village lay bathed in silver moonlight, peaceful and serene. Yet something in his heart felt unsettled, as though cracks were spreading through that illusion of tranquility.
The Hokage's words still echoed in his mind, but now they rang hollow, hypocritical even. His unease grew heavier with every step.
Finally, he stopped. Slowly, he reached up and tugged aside his forehead protector, exposing his left eye to the night.
The crimson tomoe of the Sharingan gleamed faintly—then, shockingly, the eyelid fluttered.
For years, Kakashi had lived with the burden of a perpetually open eye, draining his chakra endlessly. But now… it was closing. Naturally, as though under his own control.
His breath caught. His heart pounded. He pressed his hand to his eye in disbelief.
"The Sharingan… it can close?" he whispered, stunned.
For the first time since Obito's death, the relentless drain of chakra ceased. The silence within his body was almost overwhelming.
Something had changed.
Something deep within the Sharingan had awakened—triggered by the forgotten words of Uchiha Gen.
And Kakashi could not help but wonder, with a chill running down his spine:
Who exactly was Uchiha Gen?
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