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Tsunade glanced up, the corner of her mouth curling into a smirk. "Tch, the kid's here again."
Shizune followed her gaze, still chewing, her words muffled. "It's Kakashi, as expected."
Kurenai looked up too, then lowered her head and continued eating, her expression calm as if she'd just seen a passing cat.
Team 10 had long grown used to this. Whenever there was free time, Kakashi would show up around Shinichi—sometimes for sparring, sometimes to discuss ninjutsu, sometimes saying nothing at all, just sitting quietly to watch Shinichi train before leaving without a word.
Kakashi approached, his gaze sweeping over the circle of people before settling on Shinichi. He didn't speak, simply standing there, silver hair stirring slightly in the wind.
Shinichi set down his bowl and chopsticks, looked up at him, and said naturally, "Have you eaten? Join us if you want."
"No need," Kakashi answered shortly and flatly. "I already did."
Shinichi gave him a quick look but didn't press. He stood up.
"Then let's go."
"They're going to fight again," Shizune muttered softly.
The two walked one after the other toward the open clearing in the center of the training ground.
In the middle of the clearing, they stopped ten steps apart. The autumn wind blew past, swirling a few dry leaves between them.
No extra words. No hand seals. No opening stances.
They moved almost at the exact same instant.
Clang!
The crisp ring of blade meeting blade tore through the afternoon quiet.
Kakashi's short blade slashed in a sharp arc straight for Shinichi's shoulder and neck.
Shinichi stepped forward instead of back, dodging the blade while his long sword flicked upward in a diagonal cut, tip aiming for Kakashi's ribs.
Kakashi pulled back to block, his blade barely catching the sword. The force sent him stumbling a step. His eyes narrowed. He planted his feet and charged again.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The metallic clashes rained down like rain on plantain leaves. The two figures blurred across the open ground—crossing, separating, colliding again at speeds that made it hard to follow.
Sword light and blade shadows wove an airtight net. Every collision sparked tiny embers. Shinichi's footwork was unhurried, his swordplay steady and flowing. Every block and counter was perfectly timed, giving the impression he was holding back, like he was just sparring.
Kakashi's attacks grew fiercer. His short blade became a series of cold, lethal arcs—chops, slashes, thrusts, upward cuts. Each move was clean, carrying reckless ferocity.
He gritted his teeth, offense unrelenting, but his heart sank deeper.
Is the gap still this big?
No… it's even larger than before.
He could feel it—Shinichi wasn't using his real strength. That relaxed posture, those counters that always left room, felt less like a fight and more like a training session.
That realization stung worse than any blow.
Kakashi took a deep breath. His body suddenly halted. The next moment—
SCREEEEE—SCREEEEE—SCREEEEE!!!
The piercing screech exploded!
Blinding azure lightning surged from Kakashi's short blade, like thousands of furious birds screaming!
The lightning spread along the blade, condensing until the entire weapon was wrapped in a blazing lightning edge!
Lightning Release: Chidori Blade!
This was a new application he and Shinichi had discussed and refined—extending Chidori's power from the hand onto the weapon, giving the blade Chidori's piercing and paralyzing properties!
A flash of determination crossed Kakashi's eyes. Borrowing the momentum of his charge, the lightning-wrapped short blade slashed at Shinichi with even greater speed and force!
The blade cut through the air, trailing a dazzling blue streak. Even the autumn wind whimpered as it was torn by the violent lightning chakra. This strike was faster and fiercer than any before!
However…
Shinichi's figure shifted ever so slightly. That tiny movement made the lightning-charged blade graze past him, striking only empty air. The blue trail lingered briefly before fading.
Kakashi held his slashing pose, body frozen.
He missed.
He panted heavily, chest heaving, sweat sliding down his forehead and soaking the edge of his mask. His sword hand trembled slightly. His stamina and chakra were nearing their limits.
Yet he hadn't even touched the hem of Shinichi's clothes.
Shinichi stood three steps away, sword already lowered at his side, breathing steady as ever, as if the tense exchange had been nothing more than an afternoon stroll.
The autumn wind blew past, swirling a few fallen leaves between them.
In the distance, Shizune muttered, "It's over again."
Her tone was somewhere between sigh and routine.
Shinichi looked at the panting Kakashi, a gentle smile on his face. "Big improvement, Kakashi. The Chidori Blade application is a lot smoother than last time."
Kakashi stayed silent, eyes lowered to the short blade still crackling with faint sparks. Sweat slid down his temple.
"But…" Shinichi's tone shifted. "You still have one weakness."
"Your chakra reserves are too low. Of course, that's not your fault—you're still young. With your talent, the amount will naturally grow in a few years. But right now…"
He paused, voice turning serious. "I've seen how hard you've been pushing yourself these past few months. Training isn't just about raw effort. You need balance. Push too hard without proper recovery and you'll leave hidden injuries that drag you down long-term."
With that, Shinichi pulled a scroll from his pocket and tossed it to Kakashi.
Kakashi caught it on instinct and looked down, brows furrowing slightly.
"It's a medicinal cuisine and bath formula I put together based on some medical texts and my own understanding," Shinichi explained. "Follow the pairings, eat as directed, and take a medicinal bath after every training session. It'll help you recover faster, nourish your cakra path, and do your body a world of good in the long run."
Kakashi gripped the scroll, silent for a long moment.
"Why are you helping me like this?"
His voice carried no clear emotion, but those dark eyes stared straight at Shinichi, waiting for an answer.
Tch, hit with the classic Konoha friendship beam.
Shinichi mentally rolled his eyes, but his face stayed calm. He smiled. "We're teammates. Helping each other is only natural, right? Besides…"
"The stronger you get, the better it is for me too. If I ever run into danger on a battlefield or mission someday, I might need you to save me."
Shinichi had his own calculations.
Kakashi was a true genius—especially with Lightning Release, where his talent was almost innate.
Chidori's creation, fusing Lightning with weapons, even applications Shinichi himself hadn't considered—Kakashi was advancing fast and deep down that path.
On top of that, Shinichi now had the [Chunin] and [Guidance] traits, both of which slightly boosted teaching efficiency and comprehension for others.
The [Swordsman] trait also gave a small boost when guiding weapon-related skills, helping Kakashi integrate Lightning into blades even faster. That was why Kakashi's progress was so obvious.
Meanwhile, his Isshin clone, despite the powerful Ape Demon bloodline and strong physique, lacked the ninja-talent traits. Things like the [Chunin] efficiency bonus or [Ninjutsu Specialization] for deeper understanding meant his Lightning development speed couldn't match Kakashi's natural genius.
As for the main body, he had no Lightning chakra at all. Starting from scratch would take serious focused time—time he didn't have right now with the war looming.
But guiding Kakashi was mutually beneficial. Every breakthrough Kakashi made in Lightning was instantly mirrored by the clone. Their frequent sparring and discussions had long stopped being simple training sessions.
What Kakashi was thinking, what he was trying, what problems he ran into and how he solved them…
All of it became the most valuable nourishment for the clone—and would become the high-speed express lane for the main body to quickly master Lightning Release in the future.
Helping Kakashi grow faster was, in the end, helping himself.
Save you?
You're already this strong—do I even need to?
Kakashi froze for a second, then turned his face away.
"Only if it doesn't conflict with my own missions," he said, voice stiff as if squeezed through clenched teeth. "Don't expect me to abandon a mission to save you, so you'd better not run into danger in the first place."
With that, he tucked the scroll into his pouch and turned to leave.
After a few steps, Kakashi suddenly stopped, half-turning his head. His voice still came out hard. "Tomorrow I'm heading out on a mission. Might be ten days to half a month before I'm back in the village."
Shinichi raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"Half a month later, I'll come challenge you again."
With that, the silver-haired figure walked away without looking back, his steps a little faster than before.
Oh?
Ten days to half a month?
Perfect timing to start making some plans.
Shinichi watched the retreating back, the corner of his mouth slowly curving into a faint smile.
...…
That same evening, inside the Hokage's office, the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, set down his pipe and picked up the document signed "Shinichi Higashino" with a grave expression.
"What has the boy written this time?"
This was already the second time.
Early last year, shortly after returning from the Chunin Exams in Sunagakure, the boy had submitted a report titled simply: Analysis and Predictions on the Current Shinobi World Situation.
At the time, the Third had smiled and thought it was just a child's reflections after his first big trip abroad. He'd planned to skim it, offer a few words of praise, and encourage the boy's enthusiasm.
But the moment he opened the first page and read the opening lines, his smile froze.
The report began with a sweeping macro-view of the Five Great Nations and their hidden villages, dissecting the situation with a breadth of vision and depth of thought that no child should possess.
"Since the end of the Second Shinobi World War, the nations and villages have focused on recovery—population rebound, economic revival, and continued expansion of ninja forces…"
"Ninja are officially recognized military personnel of their nations. The core revenue of each hidden village relies on state funding, supplemented by merchant-escort missions, border patrols, intelligence gathering, disaster relief, and other civilian and official commissions. Together these sustain the village's economic foundation…"
"However, a nation's total resources, fiscal capacity, and the scale of the commission market all have limits. When a village's ninja roster grows beyond what state support and commission income can sustain, external expansion becomes inevitable…"
The Third's pipe had stopped halfway to his mouth. He read the passage again, heart shaken.
The document then listed military data from each major village, analyzed their underlying crises through economics, resources, and geography.
Some nations were mostly swallowed by desert, with almost no arable land. Their treasuries were already strained; funding for their villages was barely enough, and domestic commissions were scarce. To feed their growing ranks of new graduates, they pushed ninja across borders to compete for foreign missions. Clashes over commissions grew more frequent, planting seeds of hatred.
Some nations were small, squeezed between greater powers, constantly battered by rain and floods. Their economies could barely sustain farming or trade, let alone steady support for their villages. They became battlegrounds for the major powers' covert wars, with no reliable commissions. To survive, their ninja would kill anyone or die at anyone's hands.
Some even dared to invade the Land of Iron—the shinobi world's recognized permanent neutral state.
Some nations floated isolated overseas yet never abandoned their ambition to meddle on the mainland. Their ninja were infamous for brutality; their mist-shrouded internal rule grew increasingly twisted, with bloody purges becoming routine. When internal cleansing failed to solve their problems, external war became the only way to redirect tensions.
Some nations were mountainous with little farmland and scarce resources, yet their people were fierce and warlike by nature—conquest and plunder ran in their blood.
Some were weak but had, thanks to the First Hokage's generosity, obtained a tailed beast—a strategic weapon capable of shifting the balance of war. Possessing such treasure invited disaster.
And one nation sat upon the richest soil and busiest trade routes in the shinobi world. Its treasury was deep, its support for its village generous, and its domestic commission volume alone kept it at the top of the Five Great Villages year after year.
That vast wealth produced the largest ninja force —but it also made the village a thorn in every neighbor's side.
From the Hokage to the Daimyo, from the common people to the court, everyone tried to avoid war. Official treaties and alliances were signed constantly.
Yet those treaties were always worthless.
Every shinobi world war, this nation was never the aggressor—always the stabilizer—yet it was always the first target of the other powers' combined assault. The desire for peace proved painfully fragile against the structural drive for plunder.
"Economic base determines superstructure. Hidden villages are military organizations that survive on state funding and commission income. When a nation's fiscal appropriations and mission revenue can no longer support its expanding ninja ranks, internal contradictions arise…"
"And when those contradictions become irreconcilable, war becomes the most direct solution. It plunders external resources to relieve internal pressure and unites the populace against a common enemy. War is simply politics by other means…"
Economic base determines superstructure!
War is simply politics by other means!
The Third Hokage had read those lines over and over. At first with confusion, then with strange clarity, and finally with deep shock.
Simple. Cold. Irrefutable.
The boy hadn't blamed war on chains of hatred, unpredictable human hearts, the schemes of ambitious men, or the inability of people to understand one another.
He said it was structural inevitability.
Resources are finite. A nation's fiscal capacity is finite. The commission market is finite. But ninja ranks keep expanding, and survival demands keep growing. At a certain point, external expansion becomes inevitable.
This wasn't caused by any one villain, nor by any generation being more foolish. When internal contradictions reach a critical point, war comes like a flood in the rainy season, bursting every dam.
How could a child write something like this?
Who taught him?
No one!
The Third himself had ruled Konoha for decades, held the highest position, possessed countless intelligence reports, and lived through every key moment of two shinobi world wars—yet he had never seen the situation from this angle. Neither had the veteran of the other villages, nor the prime ministers and daimyos who had spent their lives in power.
But this boy, after only half a year as a genin, running a few missions inside the Land of Fire—perhaps after seeing the public financial appropriations to Konoha posted at the Daimyo's office, or watching the constant stream of clients at the mission hall—had gone to Sunagakure for the Chunin Exams. Maybe he had simply walked through the endless desert of the Land of Wind and heard a few Suna ninja grumbling about budget cuts and scarce missions.
From these everyday sights that every shinobi took for granted, he had dismantled the underlying logic of the entire shinobi world—the deep connections between nations, villages, economics, and war—and laid it out plainly on paper.
No one taught him. He saw it himself. He thought it himself. He wrote it himself.
This child… was a genius strategist?!
And at the very end of the document, the boy hadn't simply said "war might break out." Instead, using macro-level logic, he had deduced the inevitable progression:
"Large-scale military expansion across all nations and villages is now inevitable—no later than next year. This is not the personal will of any single daimyo or Kage, but the inevitable outcome of structural contradictions. Once everyone begins preparing for war, the foundation of peace has already crumbled. The side that strikes first will not necessarily be the one with the deepest hatred, but the one facing the greatest internal pressure or the one that believes the timing is most favorable."
"Once conflict erupts, it will not remain a localized skirmish. The Five Great Nations form a delicate balance of power—pull one thread and the whole web moves. Any military gamble by one side will shatter the fragile equilibrium and trigger a chain reaction. At that point, smaller nations like the Land of Grass, Land of Hot Springs, and Land of Waterfalls will become buffer zones and battlegrounds, just as they did in the Second Shinobi World War. No one will be spared."
Back then, the Third Hokage had sat in silence for a long time after reading the report.
And events had unfolded exactly as the boy predicted.
Cloud, Rock, Sand, Mist—every major village had begun massive military build-ups by the start of this year. Covert intelligence operations surged. Small-scale clashes multiplied.
That was why, in March, the moment he caught wind of the abnormal movements across the villages, the Third had immediately activated full war preparations.
Because a full year earlier, the boy's report had already prepared him mentally.
Otherwise, given his increasingly conservative mindset in recent years, he might have waited until the situation was completely clear before making a decision.
Precisely because of that accurate prediction, the Third now gave this new report from the boy unprecedented importance from the very first line.
"Hokage-sama, for your eyes only…"
He had only just opened the document, but the very first line made the Third Hokage's pupils shrink sharply.
There, at the top, was written in clear, bold characters:
"The Third Kazekage is dead!"