"By the way, your family name is Yagyū, right?"
"Yes."
Chiba nodded. "But I'm just a commoner."
"Some commoners were once nobles during the samurai era," Kakashi said casually. "They just fell from grace after the rise of the ninja villages. I remember reading about the Yagyū name in some old clan records—likely an old samurai line."
"Maybe so."
Chiba shrugged. There were no sword manuals left in his family anyway. If there had been, he wouldn't have needed to ask Tenten to teach him swordsmanship later on.
"Well," Kakashi continued, "those are old relics now. Even the Land of Iron trains with chakra these days. Whether someone's a samurai family or not doesn't really matter anymore."
He spoke, but his right hand twitched impatiently.
The small talk was getting boring, and his fingers itched to pull out that book. But since its contents were hardly suitable for minors, he forced himself to resist.
Still…
He could control his mind, but not his hand.
Chiba, though not yet a shinobi, had trained his perception to a keen edge. He noticed everything—and one thought flashed through his mind:
So this is Kakashi when he still tries to save face, huh?
Because later on, during the events he remembered, Kakashi would read his adult novels in front of Naruto and the others without a shred of shame—utterly unfazed, as if nothing in Konoha could possibly embarrass him anymore.
Maybe now he was just wary that Chiba was too sharp—and might notice what kind of book that really was.
Chiba sighed inwardly. "If you want to read, Kakashi-senpai, please don't mind me."
"Uh…"
Kakashi froze mid-motion, a little awkward.
"It's fine. I've never read Jiraiya-sama's books myself," Chiba added, "but I've heard of them."
He'd secretly peeked at Kitayama Xu's treasured copy once. Honestly, the contents weren't all that scandalous—more Jiraiya's self-insert ramblings than anything. Chiba's own head probably held far worse.
Kakashi was silent for several seconds.
He'd faced this kind of situation before, but this time, he couldn't quite keep his composure.
After all, Chiba was also someone who read while walking—but his books were about medicine and ninjutsu research.
And Kakashi's?
Well… let's just say they fell into a more artistic category.
The contrast stung a bit.
He coughed lightly. "Ahem. Well, books are just… a form of emotional cultivation. Not exactly essential. Anyway—let's walk and talk. The Third Hokage mentioned you to me before, and I've been quite interested."
"The Third mentioned me?"
Chiba was surprised.
It seemed Hiruzen had considered assigning Kakashi as his instructor. But Kakashi had likely refused—otherwise he wouldn't have extended that earlier ANBU invitation.
"Haha, the Third keeps a close eye on talented people in the village," Kakashi said with a lazy smile.
Yeah, right.
Chiba muttered internally.
When it came to nurturing talent, Hiruzen Sarutobi's "efforts" were more for show than substance.
He'd been living off the institutional foundation Tobirama Senju had built for the Academy.
Still—
Chiba did respect the man's mastery of ninjutsu and his personal achievements.
For someone with no special bloodline or physique, reaching that level was impressive.
Just… maybe not as a teacher.
Chiba and Kakashi weren't close, even with the Third's connection.
Neither of them was comfortable enough to start requesting personal instruction right away, so their talk remained casual as they strolled toward the village.
When they neared the gates, Chiba finally voiced a long-held question from his previous life.
"Kakashi-senpai, your Sharingan—you can't turn it off, can you?"
"Hm? Why do you ask?"
With the mask and that ever-present book, Chiba couldn't see his expression.
But he continued anyway.
"Because if you can't deactivate it, that means it constantly drains your chakra. I've heard your chakra reserves aren't particularly large, so using a sword would consume less chakra, wouldn't it?"
It was something that had always puzzled him, even back when he'd watched Naruto.
The White Fang's kenjutsu was formidable.
Kakashi himself had trained with a blade since childhood—until he developed Chidori, he'd relied heavily on swordsmanship. Even though his father's White Fang Blade had been broken, there was no way the Hatake clan—or Konoha, for that matter—didn't have another chakra blade available.
Sure, Raikiri was a sword of its own kind…
But seriously—did Kakashi even know how little chakra he actually had?
Kakashi didn't respond immediately.
For once, Icha Icha Paradise stopped flipping.
He walked silently for nearly half a minute before replying.
"Maybe swords just don't suit someone like me. And this eye—" he lifted a hand toward it, "—it was left to me by a comrade. I'll carry it with me, as he wished."
Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Besides, there aren't many opponents who can drain my chakra completely."
He sighed, then resumed reading.
Chiba was speechless.
Technically they were both jōnin, but even among elites, there were tiers.
"Well, either way, it's been a pleasant conversation today."
Kakashi stretched lazily, his tone returning to that habitual languor.
"My offer about ANBU still stands. But your decision's a good one—rising too fast isn't always wise. If you ever want to join, you can talk to the Hokage."
"Yes, sir."
"Then I'll be off."
Kakashi waved a hand casually, turning to walk toward Ichiraku Ramen, still reading his book as he went.
Chiba bought a few rice balls, then headed to the Academy.
At the gate, Shikamaru was sitting on the swing, with Chōji standing beside him, glancing around restlessly.
"So troublesome," Shikamaru groaned. "We could've left ages ago, but we ended up waiting half an hour for you."
"Sorry," Chiba said, handing over the remaining rice balls. "Got caught up talking with a senior."
Chōji's eyes lit up. He took them with a cheerful thanks and immediately began eating.
Shikamaru sighed helplessly and pulled two books from his pocket.
One was Nara Clan Medicinal Research.
The other wasn't a book at all, but a notebook—judging by the handwriting, it was copied from the Akimichi Clan's records.
"Here, these are for you."
"Please thank Lord Shikaku for me," Chiba said gratefully.
"I really don't get it," Shikamaru said, leaning back on the swing's rope. "You could be spending all that time on ninjutsu training instead of researching stuff like this."
"For me, studying medicine isn't hard," Chiba replied. "And it can drastically increase the efficiency of physical training. So why wouldn't I? Besides, what I discover doesn't just benefit me."
He gave a faint shrug. "You haven't experienced it yet, so you wouldn't understand. But someday, when you face something truly hopeless, you'll know why."
"..."
Shikamaru froze for a moment, then said nothing.
He quietly jumped off the swing and started walking home.
On the way, he passed Naruto, who was sweating and training hard.
Never experienced it, huh?
He glanced at Naruto, then back the way Chiba had gone, his expression thoughtful.
"Shikamaru, you've been spacing out lately," Chōji said around a mouthful of rice.
"I just don't get it."
"Huh?"
"…Nothing. Maybe Dad's right after all."
He sighed. "Come on, Chōji. Let's go home for dinner."
Shikamaru's tone was weary, but his mind was still turning.
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