Who Was Wrong?

Kakashi Hatake sank into the pool, feeling the warm water wash the fatigue from his body. Soaking in the large bath, he let out a comfortable sigh.

Yes, Aizen's residence actually had a large bath.

It looked like an enormous bath that could fit dozens of people without feeling crowded. It seemed to have originally been intended for an inn or dormitory, but no one really treated this place as a dormitory.

After all, this was the residence of the respected Advisor Aizen. Everyone rushed to help repair it, then left after offering their labor for free, whether it was needed or not. Such a huge bath was enjoyed by Kakashi alone.

In truth, Aizen rarely used it either. Ever since becoming Konoha's Advisor, he had become much busier. Rather than use the large bath, he would often drag a small wooden tub into his room, use Fire Release and Water Release to heat the water, soak for a while, and call it a day.

Kakashi would occasionally see Aizen sitting in the wooden tub with a towel on his head, his upper body exposed as he reviewed documents.

It was different from what his father had said. Aizen did not act like someone who had gained power and begun causing trouble.

On the contrary, he often kept a lamp lit late into the night as he reviewed documents and worked through minor issues. He would also go out to ask about local matters, sometimes even conducting inspections himself.

Though Kakashi had been his Adopted Son for over a month, aside from Blut Vene and Blut Arterie, including tonight's greeting, they had probably spoken fewer than four times.

If he had been Aizen's biological son, he might have resented such a work-obsessed father for neglecting him. But Kakashi knew very well that he was not Aizen's real son.

His biological father was Hatake Sakumo, Konoha's White Fang, the man who held deep objections toward Aizen.

His name was Kakashi Hatake.

Yet the longer he lived here, the more strongly he felt something strange.

It was not oppression, nor was it pain. How should he put it? He always felt as though he wanted to say something to Aizen, yet could never bring himself to say it.

Are you a villain planning to betray Konoha?

Those words had circled through Kakashi's mind many times, only to fade away in the end.

Setting prejudice aside and looking at reality, Konoha probably had never had such a dutiful and talented administrator from the First Hokage until now.

The smiles of the civilians were real, and so was the support of the ninjas. Konoha's efficiency had risen steadily, and they could even occasionally enjoy entertainment while preparing for war. That, too, was Aizen's achievement.

His father's words were like nails driven into Kakashi's heart, but in just one month, he had begun to waver.

Was his father's judgment really correct?

After leaving the bath and changing into a fresh set of ninja clothes, Kakashi headed toward Konoha's cemetery through the hazy drizzle.

It was already late, and most places had closed. The customers drawn to the few shops still open in the dead of night were mostly weary-looking ninjas and staff members.

This was adults' time. Occasionally, crude dirty jokes and complaints about life drifted into Kakashi's ears. Most of it was complaining—complaining about the Hokage, complaining about society, complaining about the Advisor.

Some even complained about Aizen. Listening to a drunken ninja rage about how Aizen would not let ninjas interfere in civilian work or meddle in other people's affairs, Kakashi could tell from the faintly disdainful looks of the owner and the surrounding ninjas that Aizen had indeed done the right thing.

In a secluded corner of the park, Kakashi Hatake finally arrived at the familiar place.

"..."

Looking at the small grave, which seemed even lonelier amid the misty rain, Kakashi stood beneath his umbrella and stared blankly at it.

Konoha's once-renowned White Fang now looked rather solitary. The surrounding graves all appeared to be tended to in one way or another, but Hatake Sakumo's grave did not.

This ninja who had devoted his entire life to Konoha was, in the end, not even allowed to have the location of his grave known. Naruto insisted that White Fang had committed suicide and had caused Konoha an immensely terrible loss, so his reputation remained what it was.

Although some people believed White Fang might have gone and killed the Kazekage's entire family, after watching Konoha act this way for a month, most people had come to believe it was a misunderstanding. After all, who would let a hero's grave become so desolate and force a hero's child to bear every kind of insult? Did the village have no cohesion at all?

Unless he truly was not a hero and had indeed caused Konoha tremendous losses, there was no way Konoha's White Fang and his descendants would have been reduced to this.

Kakashi could imagine that if Aizen had not been protecting him, his life would probably not have been pleasant at all.

But when he saw weeds beginning to grow over his biological father's grave, Kakashi still sighed. He crouched down and began pulling them out.

However, halfway through, he suddenly felt the curtain of rain above his head vanish. When he instinctively turned around, a Pure white Haori entered his sight.

Aizen... no, not Aizen?

Who was it?

Kakashi looked up at the figure standing in the misty rain with an umbrella, dressed in a white Haori, and froze for a moment.

It was a Konoha ninja who had appeared silently at some unknown time. He wore a white Haori almost identical to Aizen's and held an oil-paper umbrella over Kakashi's head.

Apparently feeling that this still left some raindrops on Kakashi, the man in the Tanuki mask stepped closer, crouched beside him, and began clearing the weeds from the grave with one hand.

Eleven...?

Kakashi looked at the number on the back of the man's Haori and quietly committed it to memory.

He had a strange feeling about this man in the white Haori and Tanuki mask.

There was clearly nothing similar about them. Kakashi could not even make out his build or face, yet he always felt a kind of warmth from him.

"Who are you?"

Looking at the man in the white Haori crouching beside him, Kakashi hesitated before asking softly, "This has nothing to do with you, and the surroundings aren't very nice either. You should go do your own things. This is my place."

"So this is Hatake Sakumo's grave?"

The man in the animal mask crouched before the grave. After lowering his head in thought for a moment, he said quietly, "I... suppose you could say I was your father's friend. When something happened to him, I wasn't in Konoha. By the time I realized it, I had already heard a great deal of bad news."

"Is that so?"

Kakashi moved aside a little, allowing the tall man to lower his head and pull out the weeds.

This man was different from the Konoha ninjas Kakashi remembered. Ordinary Konoha ninjas either felt regret, hated Sakumo for abandoning his mission, or wore complicated expressions. But in any case, no one came here.

Yet this man before him, wearing a Tanuki mask, with gray-white hair tied behind his head in a style strikingly similar to his father's, showed no such reservations. He simply crouched beside Kakashi and pulled out the weeds bit by bit.

"When he died, I wasn't there. Thinking about it now, I wish I had realized sooner. I'm truly sorry that you had to stay with Aizen."

"It's nothing. Aizen treats me fairly well. At least much better than everyone in Konoha."

"...I see."

The man's hand paused slightly before he continued tending to the small grave.

"Though it may make you sad to hear this, what is Hatake Sakumo's... ah, what is his reputation in the village now?"

"A Traitor. A criminal. The chief culprit who nearly brought Konoha under attack from all sides. The current war preparations are all because of his failure. That is probably about it. Father really did die because of that."

"Is that so... You've had it hard."

"As the son of a criminal, being adopted by Aizen already makes me fortunate. I haven't had it hard. The adults don't dare say anything to me or Aizen."

"..."

In other words, weren't the stares and the children's violence still there?

As he watched Kakashi Hatake tend to the grave and carefully level the surrounding earth, a trace of pain flickered in the newcomer's eyes.

Facing the calm-faced Kakashi, he extended a hand, wanting to say something, but Kakashi interrupted him first.

"Thank you for helping me. But I want to handle Father's affairs, and my own affairs, myself. Aizen doesn't feel like a good person, but I'm actually very satisfied with my life."

Looking at the small grave, Kakashi stood and patted the dirt from his hands. Then he bowed to the man in the white Haori before him.

"I don't know what Father did. But I think that if Father truly harmed the village's interests, then those choices were his own. I am his son, and I can only bear what is mine to bear."

"Whether they curse me, beat me, or discriminate against me, I am Hatake Sakumo's son. No matter how foolish Father's decision was, as his son, I must bear it as well."

"Though I am still young, I will work hard to make up for what Father left undone. That is all."

"...Wait!"

Kakashi stood and turned to leave, but the man in the Tanuki mask could no longer restrain his emotions. He reached out and pressed a hand onto Kakashi's shoulder.

"You don't need to torment yourself like this, Kakashi! You're only six years old. This is when you should be attending the Ninja Academy. You don't need to go this far!"

"Don't say things that sound like something Aizen would say, Senior. Father is dead, but I will work hard to wash away Father's disgrace."

"Do you think what your father did was disgraceful?"

"What else could it be? All of Konoha knows."

"..."

Kakashi frowned, gently shook free of the man's hold, and ran back toward Aizen's home.

The man wearing the Haori marked with the code name Eleven and a short-sword emblem, his face hidden behind a Tanuki mask, remained frozen in that posture. As though struck by a tremendous shock, he stood there for a long while, unable to move.