Inside the antique wooden living room.
As Kakashi's words fell, the room became so silent one could hear a pin drop.
Looking at the indifferent expression on Kakashi's face, Motomu only felt it would be troublesome.
Kakashi's current situation was exactly as it had been in the original story.
He was brooding over his father's death, even developing a 'mission-first' mindset.
Motomu came here to find a companion who could complete a C-rank escort mission while he went off to handle his private affairs.
Not to find someone who would cause trouble.
It would be best to find a way to resolve part of Kakashi's psychological knot now; otherwise, it would be better to replace him as a teammate.
"You bastard!"
Hearing Kakashi's words, Obito grabbed him by the collar.
"What do you think a comrade's life is?!"
Kakashi remained expressionless, simply raising his right hand to push Obito's arm down.
"If you can't complete the mission, a comrade is worth even less than a corpse."
*Boom!*
Clothes snapped in the wind!
Obito's raised fist.
It grew larger in Kakashi's dark eyes.
*Thud!*
Under the blow of fury, Kakashi, who raised his arms to block, was sent flying out of the living room.
His feet, wrapped in white bandages, dragged several meters across the pebbles of the small courtyard.
As soon as he came to a stop.
Obito's voice rang out, filled with rage.
"You bastard, I'm going to beat the hell out of you!"
"Dead-last, you can't beat me."
Obito grit his teeth and stopped talking; he would use his fists to prove everything.
Basic skills honed day and night never betray those who work hard.
With speed on par with Guy's, Obito closed the distance to Kakashi in a few leaps.
Without the slightest hesitation, a fist like a heavy cannon struck out from his waist, the short burst of wind making a crisp crack in the air.
Kakashi raised his hand, intending to grab Obito and calm him down, but Obito's fist was as heavy as a mountain collapse, making his arm go numb.
The numbing sensation shot from the base of his palm straight to his nerves.
Obito's punches were heavy—far more powerful than those of the one trying to hold back—and his speed left afterimages in the air.
After struggling to block a few moves, Kakashi spotted a gap when Obito adjusted his goggles and kicked him in the stomach.
Obito slid back several meters, dropping to one knee as he clutched his stomach.
"Dead-last, is that all the strength you have?"
"Don't let your comrades sacrifice their lives just to protect you."
*Bang!*
Slamming a fist into the ground, Obito stood back up, swallowing the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.
Standing up, he ripped off his goggles and threw them onto the ground.
Amidst the sound of the goggles scraping against the pebbles, Obito suddenly looked up.
Kakashi's pupils constricted as gravity filled his face, which was mostly hidden by his mask.
Beneath Obito's blood-red eyes, a single tomoe spun slowly.
"Uncle Sakumo would absolutely—absolutely!—despise the person you are right now!"
Kakashi only heard the wind whistling past his ears.
Obito, now even faster, threw a straight punch directly at his face.
Blocking and parrying with his arms.
Amidst the clatter of metal arm guards, Obito's fist grazed his cheek.
The person he repeatedly called a dead-last had actually managed to wound him.
"Hatake White Fang is dead, and it seems his son is no better."
"No wonder the mission failed; so this is what the Hatake family is like."
"Heh! The White Fang's son? Better quit being a ninja and go be a fisherman."
"Hey, handling a mission like that? You're going to get killed. Don't end up like your old man."
Along with this disbelief came the words of those 'comrades' from the mission; emotions swept through Kakashi's heart like an unstoppable flood.
Frustration and resentment knotted in his chest.
Why?
Why must they all talk about his father?
His father was already dead; wasn't that enough?
As he swapped positions with Obito, his right hand slowly tightened around the short sword on his back.
The blade known as White Fang.
The sword left its scabbard, the sound of it cutting the air ringing out.
The White Fang blade was fast—so fast it was almost invisible.
It sliced through the air, flashing only as a faint white light.
In Obito's Sharingan, the blade light drew closer and closer to his neck.
He saw it clearly, but his body couldn't keep up with that extreme speed at all.
Obito's eyes widened, feeling as though he were trying to turn around in a swamp.
If this continued, something terrible would happen.
In the sunless living room, the curtain was lifted by a breeze. Motomu, sitting quietly, gave a soft sigh.
He lightly patted the vertical sword case with one hand.
A three-foot green blade; Abyssal Dragon Peeks its Head.
Under the absolute control of the Sharingan's speed, the tip of the sword rippled with layers of sonic booms in the air.
*Clang!*
At the critical moment, the long sword blocked firmly less than half an inch in front of Obito's throat.
...
Kakashi's eyes were squeezed shut, the hand gripping the hilt trembling slightly.
He could almost see the crimson on Obito's neck.
He saw the look of shock and despair in the other boy's eyes.
He saw his own blade stained with blood.
'What am I doing?'
'I killed Obito!'
'I killed my friend!'
'Is this what the death of a comrade feels like?'
Fear and regret poured over him like ice water, freezing him in place.
"Young man, your blade is too heavy."
Amidst the endless remorse of killing his friend, Kakashi heard a faint, elderly voice he didn't recognize.
Wanting to escape reality, he suddenly snapped his eyes open.
He found that everything around him had quietly changed.
An endless bamboo forest rustled in the wind.
Against the backdrop of the green bamboo, the black and white Taiji pattern on the gravel ground was particularly striking.
Before him.
A grey-haired old man in white clothes stepped with one foot onto the long sword that had parried his White Fang blade.
"Young man, your blade is too heavy."
The aged voice echoed through the bamboo forest, choking back the questions Kakashi instinctively wanted to ask.
Their eyes met. The old man's gaze was calm, like a deep spring that could reflect the human heart.
"What is heavy is not the iron, but the yesterday's grievances you carry."
"It is the tomorrow's life and death that you fear."
"You are always looking back at those severed emotions."
"And always looking up at those powerful enemies who have yet to arrive."
"Yet you only forget to look at the sword in your hand."
Kakashi's hand slowly loosened.
The hovering White Fang blade came to a quiet rest in front of him.
"Your father's sword."
"Was not meant for killing."
"He used it to protect others."
"In the end, he couldn't protect himself because he wanted to carry everyone on his shoulders."
"You are very much like your father."
"You cannot understand him, but you want to carry him along in your own way."
After the old man in white finished speaking, his figure gradually scattered in the wind throughout the bamboo forest.
Leaving Kakashi alone, standing on the Taiji pattern, staring blankly at the floating White Fang blade before him.
After a long time, he looked up.
"Who are you?"
"Are you my father's friend?"
"What are you talking about?"
From deep within the rustling bamboo forest, the old man's voice came in fragments.
Just like the current ripples in Kakashi's heart.
"When the wind blows, ripples arise, and all things become distorted."
"When the wind stops, the waves settle, and the reflection peaks by itself."
"It is not others who disturb you, but your own heart."
"If the heart is as still as water, this blade will reflect the answer you seek."
He awoke from the Dream Eater.
Obito put his goggles back on, his silly smiling face blocking the sunlight as he leaned in close.
Seeing that Obito was still alive and well, Kakashi felt a sense of relief wash over him.
Kakashi seemed to have understood something.