Chapter 207: Kakashi's Heart Knot
"Yesterday's mission was really dangerous. Thanks to your support, Sean. Without you, I would've been in trouble."
"Haha, of course! We're comrades, aren't we? I'm not like Kakashi—he only cares about completing the mission, even if it means abandoning his teammates."
"Speaking of Kakashi, I heard his team ran into a disaster recently. Only he and the Jonin instructor survived. Tragic, really."
"Yeah. Being on his team sounds cursed. Good thing we left early—otherwise, we might've shared that fate."
After finishing his day's training, Kakashi dragged his exhausted body home. On the way, he overheard his former teammates chatting.
The moment their words reached his ears, his concentration on Breathing Technique shattered.
Kakashi hadn't even tried to hide his presence, and when his old teammates saw him approaching, their laughter stopped instantly.
"Cough… Kakashi, good evening," one of them said awkwardly, unsure if Kakashi had heard their earlier words.
"Good evening," Kakashi replied calmly, nodding before continuing down the path.
"How awkward," one whispered once he'd passed. "You think he heard us?"
"Who cares? He probably doesn't like us anyway."
Even after walking farther away, Kakashi's sharp hearing picked up faint traces of their conversation—but he ignored them.
He wasn't angry. He had no energy left for that. If idle gossip could anger him, he would've died of fury years ago—back when his father took his own life. Back then, every whisper in Konoha felt directed at him.
And besides, his former teammates weren't entirely wrong. Kakashi had always believed that completing the mission came first, even if a teammate was injured.
Since becoming Mugetsu's disciple, he rarely reflected on the meaning of being a "true shinobi." Mugetsu's rigorous training left little time for philosophy—his days were filled with advanced Ninjutsu like False Darkness and Purple Lightning, or grueling regimens like Lightning Breathing and Armament Haki.
Any leftover energy went into enduring Obito's constant challenges.
But those overheard words stirred something inside him again.
"My father was condemned for failing a mission," Kakashi thought bitterly. "So doesn't that mean only those who succeed are real shinobi?"
Then, he remembered Mugetsu's words: 'The White Fang upheld his ninja way. He was not a failure.'
Although Kakashi hadn't known Mugetsu long, he deeply respected him—not just for his strength but for his wisdom and the way he taught. Unlike any teacher before, Mugetsu trained both body and mind.
Because of that, Kakashi trusted him.
Now, he stood caught between two truths. One—his father's death, born from the world's scorn. The other—a teacher's unwavering belief that Sakumo Hatake had done the right thing.
That contradiction tore at him.
He thought through dinner. He thought until eleven at night. And still, no answer came.
When he finally lay in bed, his thoughts refused to stop. Even fatigue couldn't pull him into sleep.
At some point, he drifted off without realizing it.
When sunlight poured through his window, Kakashi sat up with a start.
He was late.
He rushed to wash, grabbed some bread, and bolted toward the South Border Forest.
By the time he arrived, his teammates were already mid-training. Obito and Shisui were running laps drenched in sweat, maintaining Total Concentration Breathing. Guy was focusing on Yin Release. Rin was healing wounded fish and damaged trees.
Obito passed by, panting hard but grinning when he saw Kakashi.
"Yo! Kakashi, two and a half hours late? What happened—helping old ladies cross the street?"
He laughed, the exhaustion fading from his face. For once, he wasn't the one being lectured for tardiness.
"I overslept," Kakashi replied flatly, walking past him toward Mugetsu.
"Tch, still acting so cool after being late," Obito muttered and kept running.
"Mugetsu-sensei," Kakashi said, bowing slightly, "I apologize for being late. I didn't sleep well last night."
"It's fine," Mugetsu replied with a gentle smile. "Everyone has days like that. Let's begin training."
Kakashi nodded and began his Lightning Breathing practice.
But something was off. Whether from lack of sleep or distraction, he couldn't enter the proper rhythm. By noon, he hadn't made any progress.
It was worse in the afternoon. His Armament Haki refused to flow properly; his mind wandered endlessly. Normally, he could learn intuitively from Mugetsu's explanations—but today, nothing stuck.
Mugetsu noticed.
"Kakashi," he said quietly, "your mind is clouded."
He was right. Armament Haki required inner focus—without clarity, it was nearly impossible to train effectively.
"I'm sorry, Mugetsu-sensei," Kakashi admitted. "I can't seem to concentrate today. I'll do better tomorrow."
Mugetsu smiled warmly. "Keep at it. Believe in yourself."
"…Thank you." The warmth in his teacher's tone eased Kakashi's chest for a moment.
That night, guilt gnawed at him. To make up for his poor performance, he trained alone in his yard under the moonlight. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find the right flow.
At ten, he finally stopped, showered, and went to bed.
The moment he lay down, the voices returned—the villagers whispering about his father, his teammates' judgment, Obito's teasing, Mugetsu's kind words.
His mind spun between two extremes:
"A ninja must complete the mission, no matter what."
"Protecting your comrades is the true ninja way."
He tried to silence it. Sleep… sleep…
He'd read somewhere that repeating the word could help induce rest.
It didn't.
When he checked the clock again, it was two in the morning.
He sighed, shut his eyes, and forced himself to stay still.
"I'm late…" he muttered subconsciously.
The next morning, sunlight hit his face. He bolted upright—late again.
Arriving at the training ground, he found the others already working.
"Kakashi, two and a half hours late again?" Obito called out, half accusing, half amused. "Don't tell me you were training all night!"
"No," Kakashi said simply, expression unreadable. He walked straight to Mugetsu.
"Mugetsu-sensei, I'm sorry," he said. "I couldn't sleep again."
Mugetsu frowned slightly. "Are you feeling unwell? Insomnia like this isn't normal."
Kakashi shook his head. "I'm fine physically. I've just… been thinking too much."
Mugetsu placed a hand on Kakashi's shoulder. "Your health comes first. If something troubles you, talk to me. Don't ever feel like you're bothering me—because to a teacher, a disciple's worries are never a burden."
Kakashi nodded slightly, feeling a faint sense of relief.
Perhaps the extra training last night had helped somewhat. His Breathing Technique practice that morning showed slight improvement, though his Armament Haki training in the afternoon still felt off.
After the day's session, Kakashi bought an alarm clock. He was determined not to be late again.
That night, he didn't train. He washed up and went to bed early—at eight o'clock.
His logic was simple: if sleeping at eleven made him lie awake until three, then by sleeping at eight, even if he stayed restless for four hours, he'd still fall asleep by midnight.
However, once he lay in bed, he realized that even without dwelling on those painful thoughts, he still couldn't sleep. His eyes opened and closed repeatedly, his mind drifting to countless what-ifs.
He imagined future missions—if Obito or Guy were to face danger, would he save them or prioritize the mission?
Ding, ding, ding!
Half-asleep, Kakashi heard the alarm's clear chime. Startled, he sat up. The soreness behind his eyes burned from lack of rest.
He washed up with half-closed eyes, hastily ate breakfast, and rushed toward the South Border Forest.
This time, he wasn't late—nor was he the last to arrive.
"Hey, Kakashi! You're actually early today?" Obito said in surprise when he saw him.
"Don't compare me to you," Kakashi replied flatly.
"My lateness is for helping old people, not because I oversleep," Obito said, puffing his chest.
Although Kakashi had managed to arrive on time, his exhaustion was obvious. His training performance dipped again, his movements sluggish and focus scattered.
Mugetsu quietly observed him and could tell that Kakashi's withdrawn emotions were resurfacing.
He knew these weren't new wounds. Kakashi's pain had only been suppressed by friendship, Mugetsu's gentle guidance, and relentless training. But deep down, that trauma still festered.
After all, Kakashi had been only seven when the White Fang of Konoha—his father—had taken his own life. For a child to lose a hero that way would leave scars no training could erase.
"This won't heal with gentle words," Mugetsu thought. "He needs something stronger—something that forces him to confront himself."
He understood that for Kakashi, only a life-or-death experience, one that revealed the light of true companionship, could fully untie his heart.
"Kakashi, why are you so weak lately?" Obito said teasingly. "You look half-dead from a little training. If you tried my regimen, you'd probably keel over!"
"I'm just not in good shape," Kakashi replied calmly, trying to mask his fatigue. But the weariness in his eyes betrayed him.
"Kakashi, why don't you come over later? I'll make you something to help your body recover," Mugetsu offered kindly.
Hearing that, Obito grinned. "Teacher Mugetsu, I think I'm not feeling well either. Maybe I should—"
Thwack!
Mugetsu flicked Obito's forehead with pinpoint accuracy, then ruffled his hair. "You could've just said you wanted dinner."
"I want to eat together!" Obito blurted out, rubbing the sore spot.
"Everyone can come," Mugetsu said, looking at the rest of his students.
No one objected—none of them disliked Mugetsu's cooking. Only Guy, Obito, and Rin needed to inform their families before joining.
After dinner, the usual bickering began.
Obito mocked Kakashi for being too weak to handle training, while Kakashi shot back that Obito's brain must've rusted from disuse—how else could he score below twenty on written tests?
"Obito, if you care about him, you can be a little more honest," Rin said with a soft smile, mediating between them.
Then she turned to Kakashi. "Don't take it the wrong way. Obito actually worries about you a lot. Yesterday, he even asked if you were sick. He said it was strange for a genius like you to be late."
Kakashi blinked in surprise. Obito had called him a genius? For a moment, he doubted his ears.
Obito's face instantly turned red as he waved his hands. "Rin, you must've remembered wrong! I never said that!"
Seeing Obito's flustered reaction, Kakashi began to suspect Rin was telling the truth after all.
"My friend," Guy said seriously, "your youth has lost its flame lately. You must reignite it!"
Kakashi had no words for that. Deep down, he was frustrated—annoyed that he couldn't control his thoughts or emotions as easily as he did his breathing.
When everyone had left, Mugetsu stopped Kakashi.
"Why don't you stay here tonight?" he suggested. "There's something I'd like to talk about."
Kakashi hesitated but nodded.
Once they were in the living room, Mugetsu said, "If you don't mind, tell me what's been bothering you. I may not have the answer, but talking helps lighten the burden."
Kakashi stayed quiet for a long time before asking, "Teacher Mugetsu… do you really believe that the White Fang was a true shinobi—not a failure?"
He stared intently into Mugetsu's eyes, desperate for honesty.
Mugetsu met his gaze without hesitation. "No matter how many times you ask, my answer will never change. The White Fang was a true shinobi—one who upheld his own way."
"Then why did everyone still criticize him? Even the comrades he saved turned against him," Kakashi said, confusion clouding his face.
"That's because the White Fang's beliefs conflicted with the village's rules," Mugetsu replied calmly. "For Konoha, the village's interests come first. They value the success of missions above all. To them, a shinobi who completes missions is a good shinobi.
But the White Fang was different. To him, a comrade's life was more important than any mission. That belief clashed with the system."
He continued, "Right and wrong are subjective. To him—and to me—saving a comrade is the right path. But others will always see it differently."
"The reason he faced such harsh criticism wasn't only because the mission failed," Mugetsu added. "It was because he was the White Fang. He carried a name that shone too brightly. Fame attracts both praise and resentment."
Kakashi frowned. "So the greater the fame, the heavier the blame?"
"Reality is crueler than we wish to believe," Mugetsu said quietly. "But you shouldn't let that haunt you. I believe that even if the White Fang had another chance, he would still save his comrades—and then fight to complete the mission afterward."
He looked at Kakashi firmly. "Other people's opinions don't define you. As long as your heart is clear, hold to your own path."
Mugetsu didn't think the White Fang had killed himself out of fear or shame—but because his beliefs had collapsed. His heart had been broken by a world that refused to understand him.
That night, Kakashi lay beside his teacher. Though he'd expected another sleepless night, slumber came easily.
"Since I live alone, there's only one bed," Mugetsu said with a faint smile. "But you're still young; I'm sure you won't mind sharing."
For the first time in a long while, Kakashi felt warmth instead of emptiness.
After all… it's Teacher Mugetsu, he thought before sleep took him.
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