Chapter 64 – Mercy to the Enemy Is Cruelty to Yourself
At dinner, Kiba was so distracted he only took one bite of his favorite steak before setting it down.
He still hadn't recovered from the shock that "someone so pretty turned out to be a man," and kept sneaking traumatized glances at Haku, who was tied up in the corner.
Shikamaru also glanced at Haku from time to time, unconsciously stirring the food in his bowl with his chopsticks.
The real world is vast; nothing is too strange.
Sasuke, however, was rattled by Kakashi's Sharingan.
He pushed the tasteless rice around, his mind full of what might be hidden under Kakashi's mask—another Sharingan.
What connection does that man have with the Uchiha Clan?
"All right, Sasuke—come with me."
Kakashi caught Sasuke's distraction at a glance.
The boy's chopsticks moved mechanically through his bowl, his empty stare fixed on some distant nowhere.
Kakashi set his own bowl down; the wooden table gave a soft clack that broke the table's gloom.
Without another word he stood and walked out.
Sasuke pulled himself free of his jumbled thoughts.
He lifted his gaze to Kakashi's retreating back; moonlight already traced the doorway in silver.
The daze lasted only an instant. Pressing his lips together, he laid his chopsticks down quietly, rose without a sound, and followed Kakashi's steps into the cold moonlit night.
Outside, a salty sea wind hit them, cool and damp, tugging at their clothes.
A bright moon hung between sea and sky, spilling pale light over the porch and the glittering waves, creating an almost unreal stillness.
Kakashi didn't go far; he lounged against a wooden pillar, relaxed, yet his single visible eye was sharp and calm as it met Sasuke.
No small talk. His low voice cut cleanly through the hush: "You want to ask about the Sharingan, right?"
Sasuke's body snapped taut; his hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles whitening.
In the depths of his dark pupils, the two tomoe of his bloodline surfaced unbidden, slowly revolving like black flames, mirroring his turmoil.
He stared straight at Kakashi, every word ground through clenched teeth: "Why do you have our clan's eye?"
That was the Uchiha's Kekkei Genkai, now resting in an outsider's socket.
"Well… that's a long story…"
Half an hour later, footsteps sounded from the porch shadows.
Kakashi stepped inside first, looking as lazily composed as ever, though something weightier now lingered behind his gaze.
Behind him came Sasuke, eyes downcast; the earlier accusatory fire had been banked into a deep, stony silence.
His lips were pressed tight, his aura withdrawn and heavy—still digesting the vast tale he'd just heard.
Asuma had kept watch on the door. When the pair reappeared he looked at Kakashi first, a silent question in his eyes: Resolved?
Kakashi answered with a faint nod.
Asuma's gaze swept the room and settled on the bound figure in the corner.
Cold moonlight slanted through the window onto Haku, rendering his already pale profile almost translucent, fragile yet resigned.
Asuma drew on his cigarette, voice steady and pragmatic: "Tomorrow we try to take out Zabuza. Tonight we're wasting energy babysitting a dangerous prisoner—an unnecessary risk."
He paused, eyes flicking to Kakashi. "Better to deal with him now and be done with it, before complications grow."
At that, Kakashi's visible eye shifted, clearly weighing the option.
Asuma's suggestion was ruthless but efficient; on a volatile battlefield, removing a powerful enemy who could wield Ice Release slashed their own exposure.
It was indeed a "clean" solution to many headaches.
Yet Kakashi's gaze slid past Asuma toward his young subordinates.
These kids—including Naruto, who'd just shown startling resolve—needed to learn life-or-death decisions in real combat.
Forging their judgment under pressure was a Jonin leader's duty too.
So Kakashi's eyes locked on Naruto. "What do you say, Naruto?"
Called out suddenly, Naruto looked up from his thoughts.
He did flash back to the tragic future he recalled of Zabuza and Haku; the regret was genuine.
But he crushed that softness instantly.
Business is business!
Right now Haku was the enemy—Zabuza's sharp blade—who moments ago had tried to infiltrate them.
Their positions were opposite; no sentiment applied.
If you go soft just because you know a sad ending, you might as well quit being a Ninja and go home to grow sweet potatoes.
You only get one life; don't gamble it away.
Naruto truly wished they weren't enemies, yet reality and the unfolding plot made peaceful coexistence impossible.
"I agree with Asuma-sensei."
Naruto's voice was level, without hesitation or tremor, ringing clearly in the hush.
"Mercy to the enemy is cruelty to yourself. Leaving him alive plants a bomb beneath us.
We don't—shouldn't—take extra risks for an enemy whose stance is crystal clear."
The verdict landed like ice.
In the corner, Haku's shoulders gave an almost imperceptible tremor.
Then he returned to that deathly stillness, long lashes lowering as he quietly closed his eyes.
He looked at no one, as though he had already accepted the coming end and would meet it in silence and dignity.
Sasuke watched Naruto, expression complicated.
Had this been yesterday—or even this morning—he would have bet Naruto's soft heart would plead for the "harmless" captive.
His old classmate's easy kindness is reserved for comrades; toward enemies, Naruto's swift ruthlessness earns Sasuke's respect.
So hearing Naruto endorse the execution without pause, Sasuke felt no surprise—only the certainty that this was exactly how it should be.
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