The days after Sakumo Hatake's suicide felt like walking through soup. Heavy, clinging, impossible to shake off.
The whole village buzzed with the kind of whispers that could strip paint off walls. Gossip had started like a wisp of smoke and now hung over every street like a choking smog. Even the Uchiha compound wasn't immune; a few clan members made comments just loud enough for Kazuki to hear when he passed.
Kazuki, meanwhile, threw himself into his "hobby" of obsessively sweeping the compound for signs of Zetsu. Morning patrol, lunch break patrol, late-night paranoia patrol—rooftops, gardens, alleys, you name it. He even checked people twice if their chakra felt weird.
Nothing. No muffled chakra signature. No strange residue. Zetsu-shaped hole in the evidence.
By the fourth day, he finally admitted the obvious.Either they're gone… or they're even better at hiding now. Which is bad. Like… I'd rather-eat-dango-covered-in-wasabi bad.
With no trail to follow, he dragged himself back to routine. Which meant one thing: the ninja academy.
The moment he stepped into the courtyard, his eyes landed on a familiar figure—silver hair, slouched posture, the human embodiment of "I'd rather be anywhere else."
Kakashi Hatake.
A smirk crept onto Kazuki's face. Ah, my favorite frenemy.
Over the last year, they'd fought enough spars to make a small war record. Twenty-eight wins for Kakashi, twenty-four for Kazuki. And that was without Kazuki using his Sharingan, genjutsu, or his newly mastered Rasengan.
The early fights had been one-sided—Kakashi's ninjutsu had him eating dirt on repeat. But then Kazuki adapted. Learned his tricks. Stole his patterns. Now the scoreboard was close, and with Kakashi's new short sword in play, each fight felt like flipping a coin—with a risk of losing fingers.
Then another memory surfaced—one that made him chuckle.
The "Make-Out Paradise" incident.
He'd decided Kakashi's life was tragically incomplete without Jiraiya's trashy masterpiece. Pure generosity on his part. Unfortunately, he'd tried to buy it at the little shop inside the Uchiha compound.
The shopkeeper, an uncle with permanent "disappointed in you" energy, had looked at the book, then at Kazuki's age, then flatly refused. And because the universe hates him, the man personally informed Kuroha, the orphanage director.
That day was hell. Kuroha had gone on a twenty-minute rant about "corrupting young minds" before ending with:
"If you're going to rot your brain, at least pick better literature."
She still teased him about it.Note to self: never buy smut within a five-mile radius of someone who knows your guardian.
Shaking off the memory, Kazuki walked toward Kakashi."Hey. Kakashi. How's it going? I heard about your fathe—"
Kakashi walked right past him. No eye contact, no "go away," not even an annoyed grunt. Straight to the academy office.
Kazuki blinked. Did I just get ghosted in broad daylight?
Curiosity won. He followed at a distance and peeked in just in time to see Kakashi hand over a form. The heading read:
Application for Early Graduation.
…oh, for fu—
The morning blurred after that. By afternoon, the news exploded: Kakashi aced the graduation exam. Same day, the Hokage himself gave him a headband.
Kazuki found himself standing at the edge of the ceremony crowd. Hiruzen Sarutobi wore his best grandfatherly smile, voice warm enough to toast bread.
"Kakashi Hatake," he said, "you've proven yourself in skill and in spirit. Your father was a hero of the village. Today, you honor his legacy. Remember the Will of Fire—protect your comrades, protect the village, and know that Konoha will always stand with you."
Kazuki's jaw tightened. Will of Fire, huh? You mean "Will of Let's Publicly Ruin Someone and Then Pretend We Cared"?
Only a week ago, the same man and his little circle let the village gossip grind Sakumo into the ground. And now here he was, acting like a proud uncle. The hypocrisy was so thick Kazuki almost choked on it.
He watched Kakashi accept the headband without a smile, without a flicker of joy. Just a faint tightening around his eyes.
Yep. Not buying it either.
Back in class, the seat behind Kazuki was empty for the first time in years.
It wasn't death. It wasn't even a mission gone wrong. Just… gone. Moved on.
Konoha doesn't wait. You blink, and the world's already a few steps ahead of you.
That afternoon, Kazuki ditched training to sit on the academy rooftop. From here, the Hokage Monument loomed, stone faces staring blankly at the village.
His eyes lingered on the Third's face."You're amazing," he muttered. "Preach teamwork in the morning, throw someone to the wolves by lunch, and pose for the crowd by dinner. Real versatile."
The wind brought the faint scent of wisteria from the gardens. Too peaceful for how bitter he felt.
If the Will of Fire was just branding, then fine—he'd make his own rules. Protect the people who mattered. Ignore the rest.
And if anyone tried to play him like they'd played Sakumo?I'll flip the whole board.
The next morning, Kazuki arrived expecting a slow start. Instead, he found Azula marching down the hall like she was about to challenge the Hokage to a duel. Obito trailed behind, radiating "hero-in-the-making" energy.
"There's no way," Azula announced, "that someone is going to get ahead of me. If Kakashi can graduate early, so can I."
Kazuki blinked. "Are… you serious? Right now?"
"Of course I'm serious. I've been training circles around these people. I'm not going to sit here while some silver-haired prodigy jumps the line."
He sighed and stepped forward, giving her a light bonk on the head.
She spun on him. "Ow! What was that for?!"
"Because you're apparently in a rush to be cannon fodder," he said, steering her back toward the classroom. "You do know early graduation just means they put you on missions where people actually try to kill you, right?"
"I'm not afraid—"
"Yeah, yeah. Not afraid. Super-talented. Future legend. I've heard the speech. Save it for when you can at least reach the top shelf without a ladder."
"You're impossible."
"And you're still breathing. You're welcome."
While Kazuki wrangled Azula, Obito planted himself in front of the office.
"As a future Hokage," he declared loudly, "it's my duty to graduate early and set an example. This is the path to greatness, and I'm ready to walk it!"
Kazuki didn't intervene. If Obito wanted to walk into a wall, who was he to stop him?
Half an hour later, the door slid open and Obito trudged in, eyes downcast.
"It's… it's okay to fail," he muttered. "It's part of the story. Every hero has setbacks. Too much smooth sailing makes a boring biography…"
Azula smirked. "Or maybe you're just not ready."
Obito shot up. "I am ready! This is just… a dramatic arc!"
Kazuki leaned back, grinning. "Sure, buddy. Every story needs comic relief."
Obito pointed. "You just wait! One day I'll be in the history books!"
Kazuki rested his chin on his hand. "If you say so, future Hokage. But maybe try passing the academy exam first."
Obito groaned and dropped his head on the desk.
The bell rang, chatter filling the room, but Kazuki's mind wandered—to Kakashi's empty seat, Azula's ambition, Obito's stubborn dreams.
And to the quiet promise he'd made on that rooftop:If the world was going to play games with the people he cared about, then Kazuki was going to be the chaos no one saw coming.