Several days later, at the Hatake Estate.
Morning light streamed through the gaps in the paper doors, casting long, slender shadows across the floor.
Hatake Sakumo sat beneath the eaves, holding a cup of hot tea as he watched Kakashi practicing shuriken in the courtyard.
His silver-white hair fluttered lightly in the morning breeze. The boy's movements were clean and sharp, every Kunai striking the center of its target with precision.
Yet Sakumo's brow was slightly furrowed. Recalling what Tianyi had told him yesterday, he now noticed that Kakashi's chakra had been constantly draining. Though the expenditure was small, it was like a bottomless pit.
"Kakashi, come here." Sakumo set down his teacup. His voice was not loud, but it reached the boy clearly.
Kakashi put away his Kunai and jogged over to his father. A few strands of his silver hair were damp with morning dew, and fine beads of sweat still clung to his forehead.
He raised his head, confusion in his eyes. His father rarely interrupted his training unless something important had happened.
"Father, what is it?"
Sakumo rose to his feet and patted Kakashi's shoulder, a faint smile touching his lips.
"Get ready and come with me. We're going to the Uchiha Clan Grounds."
Kakashi frowned, unease flashing through his eyes. The Uchiha Clan—the clan Obito had belonged to, the birthplace of the Sharingan.
Could the Uchiha Clan be taking back the Sharingan?!
He instinctively raised a hand to touch the scar over his left eye, concealed beneath his forehead protector, and a complicated emotion surged within him.
"Father, why are we going to the Uchiha Clan Grounds?" His voice carried a trace of wariness.
Sakumo did not answer immediately. Instead, he picked up a coat from beneath the eaves and draped it over Kakashi's shoulders.