"Is it good?"
Winter sunlight carried a trace of warmth, while the crisp morning air brought with it a refreshing comfort.
It was still the same place.
The secluded training ground where Hakken and Itachi had first met.
The lunchbox was already open, four skewers left where there had been five.
"Mm."
After swallowing the sweet bite, young Itachi's face turned bright red. His shy expression left Hakken unsure what to say.
After all, he was still just a child.
Taking a swig from his flask, Hakken twirled his blade in a casual flourish but didn't rush to begin training.
The Kenpachi template—the so-called King of Normal Attacks—had already reached 3% progress. Just 2% more, and the "Normal Attack" trait would unlock.
Hakken was looking forward to it.
By his calculations, the Nine-Tails' attack would fall on October 10th—Naruto's birthday.
Sasuke was born about three months earlier, in July.
Winter hadn't yet passed, which meant Hakken had half a year to strengthen himself—to make sure he wouldn't be blown away by the Nine-Tails' rage when that disaster came.
In the original timeline, Anko hadn't been affected by the Nine-Tails' attack. But his existence here might trigger ripple effects, and there was no guarantee he'd stay untouched.
So he needed, at the very least, enough strength to protect himself.
And by self-preservation, he didn't mean being able to fight the Nine-Tails head-on.
He meant simply surviving when the beast tore through the village, bringing buildings down around him.
That kind of survival was harshly realistic—and painfully ironic.
But when catastrophe strikes, that is the only luxury the weak can afford.
Hakken wasn't weak. He just needed more time.
The next six months in Konoha would be filled with upheaval.
Orochimaru's defection. Jiraiya leaving under the pretext of chasing him.
The obligatory stint at the Ninja Academy.
And the looming risk of Anko receiving her cursed seal.
All of it pushed Hakken to grow stronger.
"Hakken, I heard you fought Hokage-sama's son?"
After a short silence, Itachi set down his skewer of dango, concern flashing across his young face.
"It spread that fast?"
Hakken blinked. That had only been last night. By all rights, Asuma wouldn't publicize something so humiliating.
And anyone else who'd seen it would've held their tongue out of respect for his status.
So how did Itachi know?
"The Uchiha clan handles Konoha's police force. When Asuma Sarutobi was kicked out of the dango shop yesterday, one of the patrol teams happened to see it."
Kicking out the Hokage's son... Itachi looked at his friend with mixed feelings.
In his eyes, Hakken wasn't someone who lashed out recklessly. If he'd done it, there had to have been a reason.
But what puzzled him was this: the patrol had seen it, yet they hadn't stepped in, hadn't even asked questions.
Why?
He'd worried about this since hearing it, even considering going to his father to ask for leniency on Hakken's behalf.
But in truth, the patrols did care.
Otherwise, what meaning would their presence have?
Young Itachi still had no clear sense of what role the Uchiha truly played in the village.
He didn't understand—but Hakken did.
The reason was simple.
Asuma's identity.
From the Uchiha's perspective, they had just bled through the Third Great Ninja War, yet received no rewards from Konoha.
What did that feel like?
The Uchiha had fought, had sacrificed, had paid a terrible price for the village.
So why were they treated differently?
And if this was the mindset they carried into their patrols, what kind of consequences would follow?
When they saw the son of Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, kicked out of a dango shop by a child, should they intervene and punish the boy—or quietly enjoy the sight of the Hokage's son being humiliated?
The answer was obvious: the latter.
From this, Hakken could already smell it—the rift between Konoha and the Uchiha was beginning to spread.
Was it starting already?
The Nine-Tails' attack would be the final straw that broke the clan.
After that, the Uchiha would once again be branded with suspicion, their clan grounds relocated.
The conflict would only deepen.
Hakken didn't explain any of this to Itachi. He knew his friend would come to understand in time, and eventually make his own choice.
If they were still friends when that time came...
Hakken would choose to stand by his side.
"Let's train."
Rising, he carried his blade to the center of the field.
"No matter what happens, strength will never betray you."
The flash of his sword faded into the clashing rhythm of steel and shuriken, ringing like a sharp, violent symphony.
From a hollow tree nearby, the little white snake slithered out once again, its eyes filled with curiosity.
Training time always flew.
Yesterday's 2000-slash regimen—the upgraded Daily Quest—had now become his standard routine. From today onward, 2000 slashes was no longer optional, but mandatory.
And Hakken reveled in it.
"Haah… Ken-san, you really are a monster."
At last, with the sun sinking low, Itachi collapsed onto a stone, gasping for breath.
Hakken, too, came to a stop.
Itachi was shaken.
Shaken by Hakken's growth.
Yesterday, after 2000 strikes, the man's whole body had trembled uncontrollably.
But today—today he could still move, still keep his body under control.
"A monster, huh? Maybe."
Hakken answered calmly, steadying his breath.
After a short rest, Itachi hesitated, then spoke again.
"Ken."
"Hm?"
"Tomorrow is my mother's birthday. Would you… come?"
"…As my friend."