The operation of the Leaf Village had entered a stable track.
The scars left by war were being filled in, and the medical system Tsunade had established allowed the village's functions to recover at high speed.
New trade routes brought prosperity. Their former ally, the Sand Village, now known as the Wind Capital, was continually supplying the Leaf with urgently needed resources.
The entire village radiated an upward-driving vitality.
Shinju spent most of his time at the Divine Court's base.
The flow of intel before him never stopped—movements from every corner of the ninja world, planning for the village's development in the coming year.
Shinju was like a tireless core, driving the entire Leaf forward with high efficiency.
Late at night, after finishing the final infiltration plan regarding the Hidden Rain, he turned off the projection of the sand table on his desk.
Instead of going to rest, he opened another screen. The feed was linked to the village's internal surveillance, focused on the Memorial Stone.
The stone reflected a faint light under the moon.
A lone figure stood before it, his back looking especially thin.
Kakashi.
Tonight, he hadn't covered his left eye. The Sharingan was exposed to the air, and he wasn't holding that little orange book, Icha Icha Paradise, either.
Kakashi's expression didn't change much. He simply stared blankly at one specific spot on the stone.
Sakumo.
The White Fang of the Leaf. A legend—and his father.
Shinju watched the scene on the screen in silence.
He knew very well that for Kakashi, what had happened to his father, the White Fang, had dealt too heavy a blow. He had never truly let go of the past.
Back then, during a critical mission, Sakumo chose to retreat in order to rescue his comrades.
Because of that decision, the mission failed and the village suffered losses. Faced with the choice between personal gain and the village's collective benefit, the White Fang valued his teammates' lives more.
After he returned to the Leaf, he received no understanding at all.
A tidal wave of criticism crashed down on him, and even the very comrades he had saved, in order to shirk responsibility, lashed out at him with cruel words.
In the end, the man whose strength was once said to surpass even the three Sannin, ended his life under an endless storm of harsh blame and misunderstanding. Of course, anyone in that position would feel like lashing out—but Sakumo's way of ending it was simply too extreme.
This incident left a deep psychological scar in the heart of the young Kakashi.
He began to obsess over missions, treating the rules as absolute. His whole personality became cold and distant.
It wasn't until Obito and Rin died that he began to re-examine the weight of his comrades.
Now, under Shinju's influence, Kakashi had already changed a great deal.
He had shed his mask and become the commander of the Divine Court, Shinju's most capable right hand.
Yet, deep inside, that thorn had never been removed.
He still didn't understand what his father's choice truly meant back then.
No matter how he thought about it, he couldn't forgive those people, and even less could he come to terms with his father's death.
Mission or comrades—which weighed more? That question still tormented him.
Shinju understood that a person whose heart remained clouded by doubt would always have limited capacity. He had to help Kakashi cut down this chain that bound him.
The next day, Shinju summoned Kakashi to the Hokage's office.
"Kakashi, you've handled the Divine Court's work very well," Shinju said first.
"It's only because of your leadership, Shinju-sama," Kakashi replied with his usual humility.
"No, the credit is yours," Shinju interrupted. "I'm planning to give you a vacation. At the same time, I'm assigning you a personal mission."
"A… personal mission?" Kakashi repeated, puzzled.
Shinju took a scroll from the drawer. The cover was already yellowed with age, and the crest of the Hatake clan was engraved on it.
"These are the complete mission records from the operation your father, Sakumo, carried out back then," Shinju said. "Every detail is written in here—the battle itself, as well as the reports submitted by the comrades he saved afterward. That part, I think, will be even more meaningful for you."
Kakashi's body trembled ever so slightly.
"Why are you showing me this now?" he asked, still confused.
"Because you need to know the entire truth," Shinju replied calmly. "You need to understand what kind of enemy your father faced at the time, what kind of judgment he made, and what kind of treatment he received afterward."
He pushed the scroll toward Kakashi.
"Find a place and read it. Later, we'll meet at the Memorial Stone."
Kakashi remained silent for a long time.
In the end, he reached out and picked up the scroll. Its weight far exceeded his expectations.
He didn't go home. Instead, he went alone to the Divine Court's archives.
The place was absolutely quiet. No one would disturb him there.
He untied the cord at the end of the scroll and spread it out across the long table.
The mission report was written in strictly objective language.
Enemy numbers, their positions, the course of the battle—
The process by which Sakumo's squad was encircled was described in precise detail.
Every tactical decision and clash could be reconstructed from the paper record alone. From the words, Kakashi could imagine just how brutal the fight must have been.
Then he reached the section where his father decided to abort the mission and lead his comrades in a breakout.
The report included Sakumo's own statement. The reasoning was simple: if they continued, the entire squad would be wiped out. If they abandoned the mission, there was at least a chance to bring the intel back. In the end, he decided: the squad would retreat and the mission would be abandoned.
Kakashi read on.
Then came the testimonies of the survivors.
He saw those familiar names—every one of them had once been his father's companions.
The tone of the testimonies changed.
They dumped all of the blame for the failure onto their captain, Sakumo.
Between the lines, it was all evasion and slander. The heroic decision was twisted into cowardice and incompetence.
To protect themselves, they had personally shoved their savior into the abyss.
In those pages, Kakashi saw his father's greatness, and the ugliness of human nature.
The fog that had lingered in his heart for so many years did not disperse. Instead, it solidified into something even heavier.
He couldn't understand how people who had been saved could betray so shamelessly.
It was like a living "farmer and snake" fable—gratitude turning into hatred.
He didn't know how he left the archives.
Afterward, he drifted through the streets of the Leaf like a walking corpse. All around him was the scenery of peace—children's laughter, the calls of shopkeepers.
He passed through the crowd and finally stopped in front of the Memorial Stone.
His father's name was carved right there.
"Father… why…" he whispered to the stone.
"Because he was a true hero," a voice sounded behind him.
Kakashi turned. Shinju was standing there, he didn't know for how long.
"A hero shouldn't lie in humiliation forever," Shinju continued. "His honor needs to be restored. His regret should be put to rest."
Shinju placed his hand on Kakashi's shoulder.
"Kakashi, if you could ask him yourself—face to face—would you want to?" he asked.
Kakashi froze. He knew that Shinju-sama commanded unfathomable powers, but to obtain what should be impossible usually came at an even greater price.
Shinju's expression didn't change.
"Today," he said, "I'll let you witness something."
He closed his eyes.
His consciousness sank into a dimension ordinary people could never perceive.
He sent a command to that power.
Lock onto a legendary soul. Target: the White Fang of the Leaf, Sakumo.
The command rippled through the formless world. Before long, he received a response.
Target confirmed. The core regret of the soul has been analyzed: he died in disgrace without ever gaining his son's understanding.
The conditions for revival have been fulfilled.
Shinju opened his eyes and looked at Kakashi standing before him.
It was time.
That blade, sealed away in dust for so long, should finally see the light of day again and remind the world of its edge.
"Tomorrow," Shinju said solemnly, "meet me at your clan's old Hatake residence."
(End of Chapter)
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