Published at 16th of September 2024 12:22 am

Chapter 5: The Ghost of the White Fang

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The early morning mist hung low over the forest, casting a pale veil over the trees. Konoha, still asleep, rested peacefully in the distance. But not everyone in the village was resting. Standing at the memorial stone, his silver hair gently swaying in the wind, was Kakashi Hatake.

Kakashi's single visible eye scanned the stone slowly, his fingers tracing over the engraved names of fallen shinobi. His own father's name, Sakumo Hatake, was among them—etched in stone, yet carved deeper into Kakashi's heart. Every time he visited the memorial, the same questions haunted him: What would his father think of him now? Would he be proud? Or disappointed?

The world knew Kakashi as the "Copy Ninja," one of the most skilled and feared shinobi in all the villages. But beneath the mask and reputation, Kakashi was still a man carrying the weight of his past—a past that never seemed to loosen its grip.

A voice broke the silence. “Kakashi-sensei?”

Kakashi didn’t turn around. He already knew who it was. He had sensed her chakra before she even arrived. "Sakura," he said softly, keeping his gaze fixed on the stone. “What brings you here so early?”

Sakura stepped closer, her pink hair catching the morning light. She hesitated, glancing at the memorial stone before speaking. “I’ve seen you come here a lot. I always wondered... you never talk about it. About why you visit this place.”

Kakashi smiled beneath his mask, though there was no joy in it. “This place... it holds memories of people I’ve lost. People I couldn’t save.”

Sakura’s brow furrowed in concern. “Your father?”

Kakashi’s silence was answer enough. The wind rustled the leaves in the trees, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Sakura, who had grown stronger both as a shinobi and a healer under Lady Tsunade’s guidance, knew better than to pry. But she also knew that Kakashi, despite his calm and often detached demeanor, carried more pain than he ever let on.

Finally, Kakashi spoke. “My father was known as the White Fang. His strength was unmatched, and he was respected by everyone in the village. But in the end, he took his own life.”

Sakura looked down, sadness flickering in her eyes. “I’ve heard the stories. They say he was a hero.”

“A hero...” Kakashi repeated, almost as if the word itself felt foreign to him. “They didn’t think that when he was alive. He chose to save his comrades instead of completing a mission. The village branded him a failure. His comrades, the people he saved, even turned their backs on him.”

He paused, clenching his fist as memories of those days flooded back. “I was just a child, but I resented him. I couldn’t understand why he chose the path he did. I thought a shinobi’s duty was to complete the mission at all costs. I thought he was weak.”

Sakura listened intently, her heart heavy. Kakashi rarely spoke of his past, especially of his father. She realized now how deeply it affected him, how much of Kakashi’s aloofness and mask of indifference stemmed from that one defining event.

“But I was wrong,” Kakashi continued, his voice quieter now. “It wasn’t weakness. My father had the strength to follow his heart, even when everyone else told him he was wrong. I see that now. But I was too young to understand back then.”

Sakura’s eyes softened. “You’ve always done the same, Kakashi-sensei. You’ve followed your heart, even when it’s been hard. You’re not just the Copy Ninja—you're someone we all look up to.”

Kakashi chuckled softly, though there was still a tinge of sadness in his voice. “Is that so? I don’t feel much like a role model most days.”

“You are,” Sakura insisted. “Naruto, Sasuke, and I—we all learned so much from you. Not just about being shinobi, but about what it means to care for your comrades.”

Kakashi turned slightly, finally meeting Sakura’s gaze. “I had a lot to learn about that myself. For a long time, I thought my father’s decision was a mistake. It wasn’t until I lost my own teammates that I truly understood his pain.”

Sakura’s heart clenched at the mention of his old team. Obito, Rin, and their sensei, Minato—the Fourth Hokage. The people Kakashi had lost during his youth, tragedies that had shaped him into the man he was today.

“You still blame yourself for what happened to them, don’t you?” Sakura asked gently.

Kakashi sighed. “I do. It’s hard not to. I couldn’t save Obito, and Rin... Rin was—”

He stopped, his voice catching in his throat. The memory of Rin’s death, of the moment he had been forced to take her life, still haunted him. It was one of the most painful moments of his life, a scar that never healed.

“But you’ve honored them,” Sakura said softly. “You’ve kept their memory alive through your actions, through how you’ve trained us.”

Kakashi was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I suppose that’s all we can do. Carry on, despite the pain. Despite the mistakes.”

The sun was higher now, breaking through the mist and illuminating the village below. Konoha was alive with activity, and the peaceful scene stood in stark contrast to the weight of the conversation Kakashi and Sakura were having. It was a reminder that life went on, even after loss.

“Thank you, Sakura,” Kakashi said finally, his voice softer now. “You’re right. I’ve done what I can to honor them.”

Sakura smiled warmly. “That’s all anyone can ask for.”

Kakashi glanced back at the stone one last time. The names of the fallen still stared back at him, but today, the weight felt just a little bit lighter. He knew he couldn’t change the past, but he could continue living, fighting, and protecting the people he cared about.

And maybe, just maybe, his father would be proud of him after all.

“Let’s go,” Kakashi said, turning away from the memorial and walking toward the village.

Sakura followed, side by side with her sensei. The ghosts of the past would always be with them, but they weren’t alone. They had each other, and they had their comrades.

And that, Kakashi realized, was what his father had understood all along.

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End

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