Chapter 8: The Shadow of War
A month had passed since Konoha's internal council meeting.
Once again, the shadow of war loomed over the entire ninja world.
In truth, since the end of the Second Shinobi World War, that shadow had never truly faded—it had merely lingered, waiting to rise again.
Just as Aizen Sosuke had foreseen, this world possessed an obsession with conflict and blood unlike any other.
Almost everyone now believed that the Third Shinobi World War was inevitable. And though its outbreak was a matter of "when" rather than "if," the speed with which it came still caught the world off guard.
Two major powers—Konoha and Sunagakure—had each suffered consecutive blows, and, by some grim coincidence, their tragedies seemed intertwined.
Konoha's White Fang.
The Kazekage.
The puppeteer genius known as Sasori.
Was that truly coincidence?
White Fang's suicide and the Kazekage's mysterious disappearance had occurred within the same narrow span of time.
Information in the ninja world was ever-changing, flowing and twisting like a river. What one nation confirmed today might have already taken place weeks earlier elsewhere.
Yet, no matter how the timing was interpreted, both the death of Konoha's White Fang and the disappearance of the Third Kazekage—along with his guards and his nation's greatest prodigy—were undeniably monumental events that seemed to have unfolded simultaneously.
Although Konoha officially denied any involvement and claimed the Sand's aggression had driven White Fang to his death, the intelligence networks of other great nations had already reached their own conclusions.
In their eyes, the picture was clear:
The Sand Village, empowered by its genius and its most formidable Kazekage in history, had grown too confident. In response, Konoha had supposedly laid a deadly trap, forcing White Fang into a secret mission against Sunagakure—one that exchanged a single Leaf for an entire Kazekage.
A fair trade.
A terrifying message.
Though Konoha had lost its White Fang, the Sand had lost its leader, its guards, and its future.
To the other nations, it was simple arithmetic: there would always be other shinobi of White Fang's caliber within Konoha, but Sunagakure's leadership was shattered beyond repair.
As for Konoha's explanation—that White Fang's suicide stemmed from the villagers' condemnation after a failed mission—none of the other villages believed such nonsense.
Who would drive their most powerful assault ninja to death over mere politics or rumors?
No one in the intelligence community would ever buy that story.
Rumors had even surfaced that White Fang had embarked on a secret mission and would never return—a whisper that lasted only a day before being swiftly suppressed. But as with all hidden truths, the very act of silencing it only deepened its credibility.
The unseen is often real; the spoken, often false.
Such ruthless decisiveness stunned the world. The act was interpreted as Konoha's display of iron will, earning Sarutobi Hiruzen not only his title as the "Professor of Ninjutsu" but a new name whispered in awe and fear alike—"The Ninja Hero."
While some marveled at his resolve, others trembled at his power.
The world braced itself.
Every village began its own preparations, wary that Konoha might soon march across a thousand miles to strike first.
The fragile order that had held since the last war was breaking apart. The illusion of peace was gone.
Konoha, meanwhile, could only remain silent.
No one truly knew how the Third Kazekage had died, but Konoha was certain of one thing—it had nothing to do with them.
Still, in the court of public opinion, even innocence meant nothing.
If yellow mud splashes onto your pants, no matter how you explain it, everyone assumes the worst.
Especially in the aftermath of White Fang's death, the "muddy waters" strategy devised by the Third Hokage and Danzo—an effort to confuse foreign intelligence agencies—had lasted barely a day before Konoha found itself cornered by suspicion.
In such circumstances, there was no choice but to prepare for war.
Showing weakness would only invite attacks from every side. And though Konoha had endured such odds before in the Second Shinobi World War, no one wished to relive that desperation.
So, under a heavy, tense sky, the entire ninja world began its march toward conflict.
Even schools and small villages, usually untouched by such matters, were shrouded in a quiet dread.
If things had continued unchecked, fear and uncertainty would have sparked new social tensions within Konoha—bullying, resentment, even violence born of anxiety.
But thanks to the presence of the newly appointed advisor, Aizen Sosuke, and the policies of mutual support he enacted, the village managed to maintain a surprising sense of calm.
The tension was still there—impossible to erase—but it no longer burned out of control.
The silence before the storm remained the hardest to endure. The entire village worked with subdued urgency. Blacksmiths reforged weapons. Medics stocked their supplies. Shinobi trained with grim focus.
A quiet but feverish energy spread through Konoha—half fear, half pride.
Some still whispered that Konoha was unrivaled—that the Leaf alone could stand against the four other nations combined. Such confidence lingered not only among civilians but among shinobi as well.
Fortunately, the Hokage, his advisors, and the village elders all remained calm and rational, working tirelessly to keep morale high while suppressing dangerous arrogance.
During such uncertain times, however, Aizen Sosuke found himself busier than ever.
Administrative duties piled up by the day, and the development of new ninjutsu and tactical techniques demanded constant supervision.
Many of these responsibilities began to fall upon his adopted son, Kakashi.
After all, the Still Blood Suit—classified as a strategic defense technique—was now regarded as one of Konoha's most valuable assets.
And abandoning it was never an option.
Today marked the final test for Hatake Kakashi to evaluate the improved version of the Static Blood Suit.
Surrounded by Jonin and Chunin on the training field, Kakashi—who had earned his Chunin qualification through sheer ability just a week prior—stood calmly at the center.
As chakra coursed through his body, azure light spread along the blood vessels that had been modified and reinforced by medical-nin. The sensor fluid applied to his skin formed sharp, angular streaks that glowed faintly.
Unlike Aizen's earlier version, which coated only the skin's surface, Kakashi's improved Static Blood Suit radiated even through his clothing. The pale blue shimmer of its protective layer rippled faintly across his vest, leggings, and forehead protector.
"…I'm ready."
Kakashi's voice was steady as he looked toward the research ninjas preparing the instruments.
Those recording the data quickly adjusted their devices and raised their hands to signal readiness. A clear voice echoed from the loudspeaker.
"The thirteenth test of the Static Blood Suit officially begins."
[The first stage: Ninjutsu Resistance Test.]
Following the order, the waiting Chunin instantly formed hand seals, unleashing a barrage of ninjutsu.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball!"
"Water Style: Water Wave!"
"Lightning Style: Ground Current!"
"Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!"
The first wave of four elemental techniques collided, turning the entire field into a storm of smoke and roaring flame.
Yet through the haze, the voice from the loudspeaker continued without pause.
[The second stage: Projectile Test.]
"Ding!"
In an instant, the thick mist was blasted away. Dozens of kunai and shuriken whistled through the air, striking Kakashi head-on. The weapons clattered harmlessly against his body and fell to the ground in a heap.
He didn't even flinch.
Standing motionless in the center of the field, Kakashi's expression remained calm as the attacks rained down.
[The third stage: Taijutsu Test.]
Several ninjas specializing in close combat sprang from the shadows, their movements sharp and precise. They launched an onslaught of punches, kicks, and Konoha-style strikes against the small figure of six-year-old Kakashi.
The scene looked brutal—grown men assaulting a child—but no matter how they struck, the boy stood firm, unyielding, untouched.
Minutes passed.
Only when the Chunin attackers were visibly exhausted, their chakra nearly spent, did the loudspeaker finally announce the end of the experiment.
"This concludes the test. The Static Blood Suit has been confirmed capable of withstanding all standard attacks from Chunin-level opponents."
"Alright, everyone, return to formation."
"Research staff, record all data and update the relevant reports…"
"Regarding field deployment, there are several key adjustments to note…"
Perhaps because of the growing tension in the world, few approached to offer congratulations despite the successful completion of such a major project. Instead, the researchers busied themselves analyzing results with nervous expressions.
Only one middle-aged man, kind-looking but visibly stiff, approached Kakashi as the boy brushed the dust off his clothes.
"Well, it seems the preliminary improvements to the Static Blood Suit are now complete. That's excellent progress," the man said with a strained smile. "Kakashi, is there anything you'd like as a reward?"
"No."
"The times are rough, so don't be so distant, Kakashi. Aizen asked us to take care of you, after all. We should at least treat you properly, right?"
"Really not. If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving."
"What an unpleasant child… Fine. Give my regards to Advisor Aizen."
"Um."
That guy should be one of the consulting agents…
With thoughts swirling in his head, Kakashi ignored the man's words and leapt upward, running along the rooftops toward Aizen's residence.
Hatake Kakashi was a prodigy—a young genius of Konoha.
Why was he called a genius? Because he understood his place in the world and acted accordingly.
When faced with Aizen Sosuke's offer of adoption, he hadn't refused.
Though only six years old, he had already become a Genin and even taken part in several missions in secret, hiding it from both the academy and his father. He had seen enough of the world to understand it.
In this era, even a six-year-old needed to grasp such things.
So, Kakashi accepted Aizen's proposal, shedding the title of White Fang's son to become Aizen Sosuke's adopted child.
There was still gossip and subtle scorn from others, but none dared voice it openly.
Kakashi's feelings toward Aizen were… complicated. There was respect, perhaps even faint affection—but not attachment.
He had learned too young that trust was a dangerous thing.
"…Are there guests?"
Landing silently in the courtyard, Kakashi noticed the light still shining from Aizen's writing room. Curiosity stirred, and he walked toward it.
Normally, he would greet any visitor first—it was etiquette, something Aizen had quietly taught him as part of survival.
But when Kakashi saw the figure seated inside, he froze.
The man was not wearing Konoha's green flak vest.
Instead, he wore a white haori—identical to Aizen Sosuke's.
"…Is there another ninja in Konoha who wears a haori?"
Staring at the disheveled-haired stranger sitting within Aizen's writing room, Kakashi's unease deepened. Something about this scene felt wrong.
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