The Death of White Fang

The Death of White Fang

Heavy rain.

A heavy rain was falling over Konoha.

Beneath the lead-gray sky, raindrops as dark as ink pounded the earth, as though venting something—or grieving something in fury.

A white-haired boy stood silently before an unmarked gravestone, allowing the downpour to soak him, as if only this could douse the pain overflowing from his heart.

Kakashi Hatake, son of Sakumo Hatake. Three days had passed since Konoha's White Fang, Hatake Sakumo, had been buried. Amid the villagers' scorn and hatred, Kakashi Hatake stood before the grave like a puppet, blankly staring at that small, nameless mound.

Having died by suicide out of guilt for betraying a village mission, he had not even been granted a proper grave with a name.

Even if he was Konoha's White Fang, even if he was a war hero, it made no difference.

So long as there was a stain upon him, everything that came before would be denied. That was Konoha's current stance.

"..."

Silently watching the small grave mound, Kakashi Hatake stood bathed in the torrential rain, his heart reduced to ashes.

He did not know why his father had chosen to die before his eyes, nor did he know why the father who had seemed like a god had ended up like this.

Mission, friendship, Will of Fire.

Suddenly, Kakashi's ear twitched, and he looked to his side.

"Sorry. I tried to be as quiet as possible, but did I still disturb you?"

A gentle-looking man carrying a black oil-paper umbrella, dressed in a Pure White Haori and wearing Flat Glasses, walked up beside him with a basket in hand.

Amid the black rain, the pure white haori and the steaming food basket carried an oddly warm atmosphere.

And precisely because of that, Kakashi Hatake did not want to see this smiling man.

Because he knew who this man was.

The man, who looked like gentleness incarnate, gave a slight bow toward the nameless grave mound in the rain.

Then, matching the boy's height, he crouched down with a pitying look on his face, set the basket on the ground, and looked at the silent child before the gravestone.

"...Still don't want to talk?"

Holding the oil-paper umbrella and kneeling halfway on the muddy ground, allowing the mud to stain his Pure White Haori, the newcomer comforted Kakashi in a low, magnetic voice.

"But even if I have to be forceful, I must disturb you, Kakashi-kun. If this continues, you won't be able to hold on. No matter what emotions you are carrying, you need a healthy body to support them."

Steam faintly rose from beneath the interwoven bamboo lid, carrying an enticingly sweet fragrance. Kakashi could not help glancing toward it.

Seeing that the five- or six-year-old child was finally no longer quite so stubborn, the man gave a gentle smile and reached out to remove the lid.

Two freshly made bowls of ramen sat carefully inside the basket, giving off an enticing aroma.

Looking at the familiar ramen, Kakashi instinctively swallowed.

"Kakashi-kun, it has already been three days. It must be painful to be alone like this, right? I brought you something warm to eat—Ichiraku Ramen. If you don't mind, how about we eat together?"

"..."

Hearing the words "eat together," the white-haired boy suddenly shuddered.

It was not because of the cold rain, but because the meaning behind those words disgusted him.

Kakashi cast his numb, hollow gaze at the gentle man, then turned his eyes back to the small grave mound.

"...Don't meddle in my business."

"What a stubborn child. Are you really not going to eat? Ichiraku Ramen is delicious."

"..."

"Even if you do not want to eat, Kakashi-kun, you should think of those who care about you."

One hand held the oil-paper umbrella over both of them, while the other carefully lifted out a bowl of noodles and brought it to Kakashi's side.

In the pouring rain, the man's smile, as he supported a piece of sky above the child, was as warm as equatorial sunlight, and his magnetic voice spoke of care and concern.

"You are still in school, Kakashi-kun. This is exactly when you need adults to help you. Whether it is Hokage-sama or everyone in the village, although there were reasons behind what your father did, everyone has realized that they went too far. You cannot torment yourself over this, can you?"

"—I said! Don't meddle in my business!"

Smack!

The ramen bowl carrying hot broth and noodles was immediately slapped away, crashing onto the ground and shattering into pieces.

In the heavy rain, the steaming noodles quickly mixed with the filth and mud on the ground, turning into something like a disgusting puddle of black sludge.

Just like Kakashi Hatake's malice toward the man behind him, his childish face, barely five or six years old, was filled with the purest hatred and hostility toward that gentle-faced man.

"...Don't act so fake, Sosuke Aizen."

Kakashi looked up, glaring stubbornly and defiantly at the warm man before him.

"My father saw at a glance that you were no good person. Don't pretend to care about me here!"

"Your father said that... Sakumo-kun..."

Looking at the shattered soup bowl on the ground and his wrist, slightly scalded by the spilled broth, the man called Aizen adjusted his glasses. A hint of sorrow and nostalgia surfaced in his eyes.

"Those discerning eyes were indeed powerful, but they were also the root of why he fell to such a state. He could see through others, yet stubbornly believed only in himself. In the end, he abandoned those he loved most and walked down a road of no return. It is a very tragic thing."

"You... what?!"

"I said, this is truly tragic, Kakashi-kun. From an adult's perspective, it is an exceedingly tragic matter."

Adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose, Aizen sighed softly and hid his eyes in the shadow behind the lenses, as if concealing his sorrow.

"Though we are all from the same village, we remain wary of one another. It truly makes one sad. I am truly, deeply saddened that such a thing has happened."

"But I understand. He misunderstood me greatly. After all, I have always worked for Hokage-sama and the Will of Fire. Many times, I did not wish to do certain things either, but they were for the sake of the village. For the Will of Fire, I had to do them."

"Your father was worthy of respect, and his love for you was genuine. But things are different now. You are still a child. I thought this should have been a matter between adults, yet I never expected it to involve a child... Perhaps I have said too much, Kakashi-kun. Sorry."

Seeing Kakashi Hatake's face nearly twist in the rain, the gentle man known as Aizen sighed softly and took a step back.

"Tomorrow, I will come again, Kakashi-kun. Until you can accept me."

"...Get lost. Don't come again."

"Swearing is not good."

The man called Aizen looked at the stubborn Kakashi and shook his head helplessly. He placed the black oil-paper umbrella and the last bowl of ramen on the ground, sheltering Kakashi's small figure.

In response to the child's resentful gaze and behavior, he did nothing improper. He merely nodded silently to Kakashi, then stepped back twice, gathered up the shattered bowls and chopsticks from the ground, and collected the ruined noodles.

Because the surroundings were rather harsh, Aizen frowned and tore off a piece of his haori. After wrapping up the ruined mess, he gave a slight bow to the child who would not look at him directly. Then, allowing the heavy rain to drench him, he slowly left the public cemetery.

After Aizen left, the cemetery returned to how it had been before.

The black rain continued without end, but this time, no raindrops fell upon Kakashi.

Kakashi looked at the black oil-paper umbrella on the ground, as well as the last steaming bowl of Ichiraku Ramen that had been sheltered along with him. His small face was full of struggle and hesitation.

A violent storm raged through the young child's heart. Both hands clenched tightly into fists, and drops of blood ran from his fingertips onto the ground. On one side stood the good man who had helped him and the ninja with the best reputation; on the other stood his father's warning.

He did not know what had happened to this world. His father, a hero-like figure, had taken his own life before his eyes. People outside pointed fingers at him, while only Aizen had shown him kindness.

But his father had once said that Aizen was a terrifying man. Yet in this situation, could he really trust his father?

Was the village wrong, or was his father wrong?

Sosuke Aizen.

He was clearly the best person in the village. Kakashi had once admired him as well. He had only followed his father's words and obediently regarded him with hostility.

But now, his father was a "petty man" who had violated the village's rules and committed suicide out of guilt. He himself was merely the son of a "petty man." Yet Aizen had helped him repeatedly without holding grudges, and had even assisted with much of the funeral.

Kakashi knew that he was a perceptive genius boy, that he understood far more than ordinary children. But because of that, he felt increasingly pained and lost.

"What am I supposed to do... Father... Were you really the one who was wrong...?"

"..."

The lonely grave mound could not speak. It merely allowed the black rain to beat down upon it, drowning the child's world.

And from the shadows, several pairs of cold eyes watching this place quietly concealed themselves after Aizen's departure, leaving the area completely.

Several minutes later, at the cemetery entrance.

Several different figures gathered together and respectfully lowered their heads in salute to the gentle man carrying broken bowls and trash.

"Aizen-sama, you have worked hard. Should we treat your burn?"

"Ah, it is nothing. Dispose of the garbage. I need to report to Hokage-sama shortly."

Handing the damaged haori and broken bowls to one of the figures, Aizen looked back at the cemetery and smiled at the ANBU around him.

"Even if he caused immense harm to the village, the child is innocent. I believe Kakashi-kun possesses the Will of Fire. He will pull through. He may simply need a little time."

"Aizen-sama..."

"You have all worked hard, gentlemen. This is all for the Will of Fire."

Aizen nodded to the deeply moved ninja, smiled, and walked toward the tallest building in the village.