The Land of Grass.
A stern young man arrived on its barren soil.
He said nothing, but the biting chill around him made everyone notice that he was no ordinary traveler.
A short blade was strapped to his back. Cloth wrapped its hilt, bearing the marks of years of use. He looked like someone best left alone.
So most people gave the youth a wide berth.
The youth raised his head and gazed into the distance.
That face belonged to Kakashi.
He had already left Konoha. He could not remember how far he had walked or how many turns he had taken along the way.
He did not even know where he was.
But it did not matter.
Anywhere would do.
Along the way, he had stepped in to help those in trouble and stood by while others died. He had been a hero in the eyes of strangers, and he had been an indifferent passerby.
None of it could make him happy.
He even wondered whether doing something bad might make a difference.
But Kakashi had not done it.
He still believed that, as Hatake Sakumo's son, he was not a bad person.
But...
What could he do to make himself happy?
How could he find meaning in his life?
"Hehehe! Where are you going?"
"Let us have some fun. We haven't had a taste in days."
"Hehehe."
"Stay away from me!!"
Only when he heard men and a woman shouting did Kakashi come back to his senses. He realized that he had already wandered far from the village in the Land of Grass and was now out in the wilderness.
The voices came from a dilapidated temple in the distance.
Kakashi glanced expressionlessly in that direction, then chose to keep walking.
Until...
Another voice rang out.
"You wouldn't