White Fang's Last Meal

"Right now, we might be nothing more than an insignificant spark."

"But one day, this fire will burn through all of Konohagakure's decay and darkness."

Those few impassioned words thoroughly ignited the hearts of the young people.

In this brutal age of war, no one wanted to become an anonymous sacrifice in a political struggle.

Hyuga Tianfeng did not hesitate. He was the first to step forward and place his hand over Qian Ye's.

"I'm in."

"So I won't become the next discarded pawn kept in the dark."

The Nara boy followed, placing his hand on top.

"Count me in. This kind of mutual-aid organization is logical."

The Akimichi boy and the Yamanaka girl immediately crowded over as well, stacking their hands together.

Uchiha Yan hesitated for a few seconds before finally stepping forward with a haughty look and placing his hand on top of them all.

"Don't get the wrong idea."

"This young master just wants to get more theoretical research on the Sharingan from you."

Several young hands clasped tightly together.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves and fell over them.

Pakura, sitting in the grass not far away, watched coldly, a mocking smile curling at the corner of her lips.

A few brats gathering together to play house.

Did they really think shouting a few slogans would let them stand against those old foxes who had lived for decades?

In Pakura's eyes, this so-called "Sparkfire Society" was nothing more than an improvised game born from children being stirred up.

Never mind the village higher-ups—even the clans behind these youths would never take such childish antics seriously.

Even the young masters and ladies who had joined the organization did not truly have any long-term plans.

They had merely been won over by Qian Ye's charisma and strength, hoping to improve themselves within this mutual-aid study group.

No one realized it.

This makeshift group, formed in the wilderness during an escort mission by a civilian Genin and padded out by a few young masters and ladies.

Would soon stir up a terrifying storm that would make the entire Ninja World tremble.

Konohagakure.

The setting sun stretched Hokage Rock's shadow long.

There were fewer pedestrians on the streets than usual.

Kakashi walked forward with both hands in his pockets, his head lowered.

He had pulled his forehead protector low, covering his left eye.

His mask was pulled all the way up to the bridge of his nose.

Even so, the whispers around him seemed to grow legs and crawl into his ears.

"Look, that's White Fang's son."

"What a shameless brat. He still has the nerve to walk around outside."

"Because of his father, how many people died on the front lines?"

"I heard Kikyo Pass is nearly impossible to hold now. It's all because Sakumo Hatake abandoned the mission."

"Someone like him doesn't deserve to be a ninja of the Hidden Leaf."

Kakashi's steps paused.

His right fist clenched tightly inside his pocket.

His nails dug into his flesh, sending a sharp sting through his hand.

He wanted to draw the short blade on his back and make these civilians, who only knew how to wag their tongues, shut up.

But he held himself back.

His father had taught him that a ninja's blade was used to protect the village, not to turn against comrades.

Comrades?

Kakashi sneered inwardly.

Did those people who had driven his father to a dead end deserve to be called comrades?

"Kakashi!"

A booming shout exploded from ahead.

A watermelon-headed youth in a green jumpsuit descended from the sky.

He landed squarely in front of Kakashi.

Might Guy.

Guy struck an absurdly exaggerated opening pose.

Two rows of gleaming white teeth flashed in a grin.

"This is youth!"

"My lifelong rival, Kakashi!"

"Today, let's settle who the true taijutsu genius is by running fifty laps around Konohagakure on our hands!"

Guy's shout startled the villagers nearby.

Their chatter quieted down.

They all stared at the thick-browed boy as if he were insane.

Kakashi lifted his eyelids and glanced at Guy.

He knew Guy was doing it on purpose.

That thickheaded guy was actually more sensitive than anyone.

Guy was using this ridiculous method to divert everyone's attention from him.

To interrupt those vicious remarks.

"No time."

Kakashi went around Guy and continued walking.

Guy stubbornly followed after him.

"Don't go, Kakashi!"

"If fifty laps won't work, thirty will!"

"If that still won't do, let's compete with Shuriken at the training ground!"

Kakashi stopped.

He turned to look at Guy.

"I'm tired today."

"Tomorrow."

His tone was flat, without a trace of emotion.

Guy froze for a moment.

Looking into Kakashi's utterly calm eyes, he swallowed the words he had yet to say.

"Okay!"

Guy gave him a thumbs-up.

"Then I'll see you at the training ground tomorrow!"

"Youth does not allow retreat!"

Kakashi ignored him and turned into an alley.

The Hatake estate stood at the edge of the village.

It was usually quiet here.

Today, it was frighteningly silent.

Even the cicadas in the trees seemed to have died out.

Kakashi pushed open the courtyard gate.

The wooden door creaked.

The courtyard had been swept clean.

Fallen leaves were piled in a corner by the wall.

Lights were on inside.

Thin smoke drifted from the kitchen chimney.

Kakashi walked to the entrance and took off his shoes.

"You're back?"

A gentle voice came from the kitchen.

Sakumo Hatake emerged carrying two plates of food.

He wore an ordinary gray kimono.

His silver-white hair was casually tied behind his head.

His sleeves were rolled to his elbows.

A floral apron was tied around his waist.

He looked like nothing more than an ordinary househusband.

There was not the slightest trace of the White Fang of Konoha's killing intent about him.

Seeing his father, the stone in Kakashi's heart settled slightly.

"Yeah, I'm back."

Kakashi walked to the dining table and sat down.

Grilled saury and miso soup were on the table.

Both were his favorites.

Sakumo untied his apron and sat across from Kakashi.

"How did training go today?"

Sakumo picked up his chopsticks and asked with a smile.

"It was alright."

Kakashi took a mouthful of rice.

"The Chidori's shape transformation became a little more stable."

"But it still consumes too much chakra."

Sakumo nodded.

"Lightning Release is inherently violent."

"At your age, it's normal not to have enough chakra."

"Don't rush things."

"Practice control more."

Sakumo picked up a piece of fish and placed it in Kakashi's bowl.

His tone was relaxed.

As though they were merely chatting over an ordinary family meal.

Kakashi bit lightly on his chopsticks and looked up at his father.

The rumors outside had already spread everywhere.

Even three-year-old children were cursing White Fang as a sinner of the village.

There were even rumors that the Hokage was preparing to convene a Jonin meeting and publicly put his father on trial.

Yet his father looked far too normal.

So normal that Kakashi found it unreal.

No anger.

No despair.

No drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

He had not even frowned once.

"Father..."

Kakashi could not help speaking up.

"Haven't you heard what they've been saying outside?"

Sakumo paused mid-meal.

He put down his chopsticks.

And looked at Kakashi.

His eyes were clear.

"Kakashi."

"What do you think is right?"

Kakashi was stumped by the question.

He recalled the textbooks at the ninja academy.

"Those who break the ninja rules are trash."

It was an ironclad rule.

But his father had broken the rules to save his comrades.

And in the end, the very comrade he had saved had turned around and bitten him.

"I don't know."