Obito Uchiha couldn't shake the itch under his skin. Last night's brawl still hummed in his muscles—the way those three idiots had jumped Kakashi just because of some dumb village notice about his dad. The White Fang? Abandoning missions? Causing "significant losses"? As if.
He kicked a pebble along the dark alley on his way home, muttering to himself. "Sakumo-san's the best there is. He saved his teammate and still got the job done. That's the Will of Fire—comrades before everything." His fists clenched and unclenched without thinking, nearly clipping a low lantern. "Why can't people just see that?"
Kakashi had told him the real story after the fight: the desert mission, the teammate bleeding out, the choice to turn back instead of leaving him behind like some heartless tool. Then that vague, nasty notice from the higher-ups had turned everything into poison gossip. Obito's stomach had twisted watching Kakashi's face—torn between the mission-first stuff drilled into them at the Academy and the way Taiichi had once asked which mattered more. After the scrap with Gai jumping in, Kakashi had cracked a tiny real smile. Obito wasn't letting the village trash that.
"No way," he told the empty street, striking a quick pose under the lamp light. "Obito Uchiha, future Hokage, is fixing this. Tomorrow. For Kakashi. For Sakumo-san. For the fires of youth."
Back home his grandma was already snoring, so he stood in front of the mirror practicing lines until his voice gave out. "Hey Konoha, listen up—the White Fang didn't mess up, he did it right twice over!" He flexed, goggles sliding down his nose. Good enough. They'd listen.
Morning hit fast, but Obito was out the door before the sun properly cleared the trees, bento swinging at his side. First stop: the Academy courtyard. Classes were over for the weekend, but plenty of kids were still hanging around, tossing shuriken or chatting in little groups.
"Hey guys!" He hopped onto a bench, trying not to sound too loud at first. "Quick thing about the White Fang—got a minute?"
A couple heads turned. Miho, the girl who always swapped lunch ideas with him, tilted her head. "Obito? Shouldn't you be training?"
"Training can wait. This is important." He spread his hands, careful not to wobble. "You've all heard the rumors about Hatake Sakumo, right? That he abandoned a mission? It's not like that. I got the real story—from someone who knows. His teammate was dying out in the desert, Sand ninjas chasing them. He could've left the guy and slipped away, but he didn't. He got him help, then went back and finished the mission anyway. Teammate safe, targets down. That's what comrades mean. Missions are paper. People aren't."
One of the boys snorted. "My dad says the Hokage's office notice means it was bad. Lost contracts or whatever."
"Your dad wasn't there," Obito said, hopping down but keeping his voice steady. "Sakumo-san's the guy who's always watched over the village. Bright, strong, doesn't quit on people. Choosing to save a life? That's the right call. You can redo a mission. You can't redo losing someone."
He got a little carried away and mimed throwing a kunai at an imaginary enemy. "Whoosh—slice—then carry your buddy home like it's nothing!" His elbow clipped a low branch; leaves showered everyone. Laughter rippled through the group. Obito's cheeks heated. "See? Even the trees are on his side."
Miho giggled. "You're making a mess again, Obito."
"It's enthusiasm!" He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning anyway. A couple kids nodded slowly. "Yeah… my mom says the White Fang's saved us before." Small victories. "Just tell your families the truth, okay? Rumors are just talk from people who don't get it."
He spent the next hour drifting between clusters, repeating the story a little calmer each time. By the time he left, his throat was scratchy but five kids had promised to pass it on. Not bad.
Next he headed to the market. Stalls were opening, the air full of fish and bargaining voices. Obito wove through the crowd, trying not to bounce too much.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he said to the old auntie with the apple cart. "Don't believe the bad stuff about Sakumo Hatake, okay?"
She blinked at him. "Kid, you're in the way."
"Sorry—just listen a second." He planted his feet. "He chose to save a dying teammate instead of leaving him in the desert. Still finished the mission. That's not failure, that's heart. The notice is just politics. Tell your friends to support the White Fang—he's Konoha's pride."
The auntie squinted. "Politics, hm? My husband said something like that. But a boy your age yelling about it…"
"I'm Obito Uchiha," he said, trying to sound serious. He reached for an apple to make his point, then realized he hadn't paid. She snatched it back with a laugh. "Pay first, defender of justice."
Coins spilled when he dug in his pocket. He dove after them and bumped a passing chunin, who dropped his rice bag. "Sorry! It's for a good cause!" The man grumbled and left. Obito's face burned as he scooped everything up. "Even the rice is helping…"
He kept moving, stall to stall, a little quieter now. To the fish guy: "Your fish looks fresh like Sakumo-san's resolve." The man just stared. To the tool sharpener: "Your blades stay sharp like the White Fang's sword." He tried a quick pretend swing and knocked over a whole rack of kunai holders. Clatter everywhere. "Whoops. Youthful energy."
By midday half the market thought he was cute, the other half thought he was a nuisance. A few shopkeepers actually agreed—"Yeah, the White Fang's always done right by us"—but most just patted his head and told him to go play. Obito's energy didn't drop. One voice at a time.
He even stopped at Ichiraku. "Teuchi-san! The rumors about Sakumo-san are wrong!"
Teuchi chuckled over the broth. "I sell noodles, kid, not politics. But Ayame likes those stories. Extra egg for the cause?"
"Deal." Obito slurped happily, then talked between bites. He got excited describing the desert rescue and broth dripped down his chin. "And then—slurp—he doubled back and—slurp—took them out! Total hero!" Ayame giggled. Obito wiped his face with his sleeve. "See? Even ramen agrees."
By afternoon his legs ached and his voice was raw, but he'd talked to thirty people. Some were already repeating bits to each other—"Did you hear? The White Fang saved his teammate and still won." Tiny ripples. Obito climbed a rooftop, chest puffed. "Not bad for one day. Kakashi's gonna be proud."
He collapsed at the training grounds later, sprawled under a tree, replaying the clumsy bits—the branch, the coins, the rack, the dribbled broth. Okay, he'd looked ridiculous. But ridiculous with a reason. Rumors were weeds; his voice was the hoe.
The next morning he was still riding the high when he spotted Rin by the old oak near the Academy gates. She was practicing gentle green medical chakra on a scratched training dummy, quiet and focused.
"Rin!" He waved, almost tripping over a root as he jogged up. "You won't believe yesterday! I went full rumor-crushing. Hit the whole Academy, the market, even Ichiraku. Told everyone Sakumo-san's a hero who picked his teammate over a stupid mission. Some people actually listened. I think it helped a little."
Rin gave him that soft smile that always made his stomach flip. "Obito, that's sweet. I heard some kids whispering about it this morning—'The White Fang's like the sun.' Your words are sticking."
"Youth power!" He struck a quick pose, then rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Though I did knock stuff over. Spilled coins. Dripped ramen. Heroic messes still count, right?"
She laughed lightly. "They do when it's you. But maybe we can do more. Kakashi seemed steadier after the fight, but his dad's still getting hit hard. What if we actually show up and support him? Like… going over for dinner or something?"
Obito's eyes widened. "That's perfect! We get Kakashi to invite us to eat with his dad tonight. We'll tell Sakumo-san straight that the rumors are garbage and the kids in the village have his back. It'll cheer him up. I can even say sorry for not hitting those bullies harder!"
Rin tilted her head, ponytail swaying. "Only if it's okay with them. Don't overwhelm, Obito. Sakumo-san's probably tired of the noise."
"Overwhelm? Me? Never." He grinned until his goggles fogged. "It'll be easy. Fun. We'll bring dessert. Show him the Will of Fire isn't just words—it's us."
They found Kakashi at a quiet training field a few minutes later, silver hair visible under his mask as he practiced clean kunai throws. He looked focused, but not the usual closed-off kind. The talk with his dad must have helped.
"Kakashi!" Obito called, jogging over. Rin followed at a calmer pace. "Perfect timing. We need a favor. Big one."
Kakashi caught a kunai and turned, eyebrow raised. "If it's another ramen run, count me out."
"Not ramen—better." Obito took a breath. "Rin and I want to come to dinner at your house. With your dad. Tonight. We'll tell him the rumors are stupid and we know he did the right thing saving his teammate. The village kids stand with the White Fang. Real support."
Rin nodded gently. "Only if it's all right. We just want to show we're on his side. No pressure."
Kakashi stared a long moment, kunai still spinning on his finger. Obito held his breath—Kakashi's family stuff was private. But after last night's father-son talk…
Kakashi finally sighed, the smallest smile in his eyes. "Dad's been… steadier since we talked. He might like the company. I'll ask. But if he says no—"
"He won't!" Obito punched the air. "You're the best, Kakashi! Tell him Obito Uchiha vouches for it."
Kakashi flicked a kunai at his feet—just close enough to make him yelp. "Tone it down. I'll send a message later."
The bird arrived by afternoon: "Dad says yes. 6 PM. Don't be late. And bring manners."
Obito spent the rest of the day buzzing. He changed his orange shirt three times (same one, just ironed once), practiced bows in the mirror—"Good evening, Sakumo-san, your son's a genius and you're a legend"—and begged his grandma for her best mochi. "For the White Fang? Take the good batch," she winked.
Rin met him at the Hatake gate at 5:55, neat as always, holding a small bunch of wildflowers. "For the table." Obito's mochi box suddenly looked lopsided next to hers. "Ready?"
"Always." His stomach still flipped when they knocked.
Sakumo opened the door—tall, silver hair like Kakashi's, that calm gentle smile. "Obito. Rin. Welcome. Kakashi mentioned you wanted to visit. Come in."
Obito's brain stuttered for a second. Up close the White Fang was even cooler—strong shoulders, quiet power. "S-Sakumo-san. It's an honor. We came to say the rumors are trash and we really support what you did—saving your teammate. Comrades forever."
Sakumo chuckled softly and stepped aside. "Thank you. That's kind. Kakashi's in the kitchen helping with dinner. Make yourselves comfortable."
The house was simple—tatami, training gear in the corner, nothing flashy. Kakashi appeared with tea, mask down for once. "Don't break anything, Obito."
"Me? Never." Obito dropped onto a cushion and immediately elbowed his teacup. Splash. "Gah—sorry! Youthful clumsiness."
Rin giggled and dabbed it up. "It's fine."
Sakumo waved it off, eyes warm. "Accidents happen. Reminds me of my own genin days—broke more dishes than enemies."
Dinner was simple and good: grilled fish, rice, vegetables, miso. They sat in a circle and Obito couldn't stop talking. "Sakumo-san, the mission sounded amazing. Desert chase, Sand ninjas everywhere, and you still doubled back after getting your teammate healed. That's why the rumors are stupid—people just don't get it."
Kakashi facepalmed lightly. "Obito."
But Sakumo listened, nodding. "I appreciate hearing it from the next generation. The Will of Fire… it's about protecting what matters. Missions are important, but not at the cost of the lives we're supposed to guard."
Obito beamed. "Exactly! That's why I spent yesterday yelling at half the village. Called you the sun and everything. Knocked over apples, spilled coins… but I think it helped a bit."
Rin smiled. "He really did. Some kids at the Academy are repeating it."
Sakumo's smile grew. "Then thank you, Obito. Means more than you know."
Praised, Obito's brain shorted. He jumped up mid-bite to demonstrate a "heroic rescue carry." "Like this—grab the guy and—" His foot caught the table leg. He pitched forward; the mochi box flew and splatted right onto Kakashi's lap.
"Obito!" Kakashi groaned, sticky rice everywhere.
"Sorry! I was showing the technique!" Obito scrambled to fix it and only smeared it worse. His face burned. "See? Even my demonstrations support the cause."
Rin burst out laughing behind her hand. Sakumo chuckled deep and warm, the sound of someone who'd seen worse. "No harm done. Kakashi, pass the cloth."
They cleaned up and the evening stayed light. Obito chattered about Gai's youth speeches, how he and Rin would always back Kakashi's family, even blurting, "If the village keeps being mean we'll fight the rumors together—like a team! Me, Rin, Kakashi, and the White Fang dad!"
Kakashi muttered, "Dad's not on the team," but his eyes were soft.
Sakumo raised his tea. "To good comrades—old and new."
Obito nearly choked on his fish. "To the White Fang! Best dad ever!" Then he froze. "I mean—best ninja dad! Not that I have one to compare—wait, that came out wrong."
More laughter. Rin patted his back. "Obito means well."
By dessert—grandma's mochi, mostly salvaged—the mood felt golden. Sakumo told a quiet story about a young mission gone sideways ("Tripped over my own sword once"), making Obito feel less clumsy. Kakashi even joined in teasing: "Obito trips over air every day."
When they left, bellies full and hearts lighter, Sakumo clasped Obito's shoulder at the door. "The rumors will fade. But your voice helped today. Thank you—all of you."
Obito puffed up, then grinned sheepishly. "Anytime. Next time I won't spill the tea… probably."
Rin linked arms with him on the walk home, still giggling softly. "You were a mess, but a good one. Kakashi looked happy. And Sakumo-san too."
"Yeah…" Obito looked up at the stars, chest warm. "Rumors are loud, but friends are louder. I made a total fool of myself, but for a good reason. Mission… kinda accomplished."