Unlike the more majestic Hyuga compound, at roughly the sa ti, the Hatake compound was quiet that day.
Most of its halls were nearly abandoned, its buildings weathered and dim, as though the place itself still mourned Sakumo's death.
A few elders sat in shaded corners, silent and watchful, but otherwise the compound felt like a shell of what it once was.
In the courtyard, however, there was movent.
Steel flashed in the sunlight, and two gray-haired figures blurred through afterimages.
One was younger, around ten or eleven, his hair a pale silver that caught the light.
The other was thirteen, taller, his hair darker, more iron-gray than white.
Kakashi and Renjiro Hatake clashed with the speed and intensity of real battle, their swords ringing again and again.
They pulled away at the last instant each ti, but their intent was unmistakable.
This was no playful drill; it was a duel.
For two hours, they fought until sweat dripped down their brows and their movents slowed.
Finally, they both halted, blades crossed, then stepped back, panting.
Kakashi, younger by three years, was the first to speak.
"Cousin," he said, his voice flat, but with the faintest edge of surprise. "It seems like you haven't been slacking lately."
Renjiro grinned despite his exhaustion, teeth bared in satisfaction.
The draw, they both calculated and agreed upon indirectly, had pleased him; it was the first ti he had ever managed to match Kakashi.
Yet there was bitterness, too.
Kakashi was still a boy physically in his eyes, while Renjiro had trained for years longer, and yet…
Kakashi had always beaten him until now.
The younger boy had already beco a chūnin at six, graduated from the Academy at five.
Renjiro, by comparison, had only graduated at twelve after the full course.
And though Renjiro had been quietly approached by ANBU in his last two years, told to delay graduation so he could later monitor Ryusei, just like perhaps Kanae, the fact remained: Kakashi had always been the one ahead, the prodigy. Renjiro's pride chafed under it.
Kakashi slid his blade back into its sheath, his expression unreadable.
He didn't co to this compound often.
It reminded him too much of his father's death, the silence heavy with mory.
He had left years ago, living alone with his inheritance and shinobi pay.
He only ca here out of duty, to acknowledge the few remaining elders, and occasionally, to spar with Renjiro.
For all that they shared blood, the two weren't close.
Kakashi had grown cold since Sakumo's death, emotionally distant, village-first.
Renjiro had grown up differently, an orphan raised under the watch of the clan elders, who taught him that the clan always ca before the village.
Their worldviews had diverged sharply.
Renjiro still rembered the mont that gap had beco a wound.
Kakashi had given away the copies of the last of their clan's secret kenjutsu techniques to Konoha, "for the good of the village", which it didn't have.
The elders had fud, powerless to stop him.
Sakumo had been the last true patriarch, and with his death, the Hatake were hollow.
Kakashi was stronger and more talented than Renjiro, so the elders could do nothing but complain.
Renjiro had challenged him over it, furious. Kakashi had beaten him easily.
It was then that Renjiro had felt sothing new: doubt.
Not just doubt in Kakashi, but in Konoha itself.
What kind of fool gives away his clan's heritage for free? For words about unity and fire?
He had started to wonder if the "Will of Fire" wasn't a creed but a leash, one that turned clans into extensions of the Hokage's will.
Now, standing across from Kakashi, catching his breath, Renjiro's old resentnt smoldered beneath the surface.
"You've grown," Kakashi said at last, his voice calm. "I heard about your last mission. Your team brought back a victory that mattered."
His eyes studied Renjiro briefly. "That was… well done."
Renjiro's grin widened at the praise, but then faltered.
Kakashi's tone wasn't warm, not personal; it was clinical.
He praised him as he might praise a weapon for being sharp.
"It wasn't just ," Renjiro said, though his chest swelled. "We fought as a team. Ryusei, Kanae, our sensei… all of us did it."
"Yes," Kakashi replied. "And it helped the village. That's what matters."
Renjiro's smile soured.
Of course. Always the village.
Kakashi wasn't happy for him; he was happy for Konoha.
The two boys stood in silence for a while, the courtyard quiet except for the sound of their breathing.
Renjiro looked at his younger cousin, at the boy who had eclipsed him since childhood, who had already surpassed chūnin level and carried himself like a jōnin.
Kakashi could have been the pride of the clan, their weapon, their leader.
Instead, he had been given to the Hokage from a young age, molded into a tool, stripped of everything but loyalty to the village.
In truth, it had grown sharper after his father's death, as though that loss carved out an emptiness he needed to fill. He hadn't been like this before.
Or perhaps it was the missions, the squads he was placed in, the constant drilling of village-first ideals. They say the young absorb such things the easiest.
Renjiro clenched his fists. 'And I'm supposed to follow that? No. One day, I'll surpass him, not for the Hokage, not for their "Will of Fire," but for myself, for my clan.'
Kakashi finally spoke again, his voice flat. "Keep training. You'll need it. War is coming."
Renjiro smirked, forcing cheer into his words. "Don't fall behind then, cousin. I won't lose again."
Kakashi turned away, already walking toward the gate, his cold presence fading with each step.
Renjiro stood where he was, still breathing hard, sweat dripping down his chin, his thoughts a storm of pride, envy, and even resentnt.
For the first ti in years, Renjiro had drawn even with Kakashi.
Yet the shadow of his cousin's prodigy status, and of Sakumo's legacy, still weighed heavily over the courtyard.
Renjiro had been beaten by Kakashi for as long as he could rember.
The boy was two or three years younger, yet always ahead.
Kakashi had started the Academy at 4, graduated in a single year at 5, and beca a chūnin at 6, half the age Renjiro was when he only recently earned the sa rank.
Renjiro, by contrast, had entered at 6 like the rest of his generation, taken the full course, and graduated at 12.
Every milestone of his life had co later, slower, always under his cousin's shadow.
The shift in the Academy's system only deepened that divide.
Renjiro's class, along with Ryusei's and Kanae's, had been the last to begin at age 6.
Not long after, the entry age was lowered abruptly to 4.
No official reason was given, but the truth was plain enough: the village was preparing for a war expected to bleed more than any before in history.
They wanted more soldiers and sooner, hardened earlier, no matter the cost to childhood.
So Renjiro grew up watching Kakashi's legend being carved into stone while his own progress looked ordinary beside it.
With his prideful nature, he could never accept it quietly.
Even now, with his reputation finally rising after recent missions, he was still only catching up, always asured against Kakashi's impossible record.
Kakashi's story was already village history, breaking every shinobi record ever set and more.
The only reason he wasn't a jōnin already was that the rank demanded more than strength; it required tactical maturity, years of experience.
Kakashi simply hadn't lived long enough to gather that experience.
But in ability alone, he was already at least a low jōnin.
Yet it was still not enough to compensate for his lack of age.
But, given a few more years or another war, they would have no choice but to raise him.
However, as he was still reminiscing, not long after Kakashi left, a few masked ANBU appeared at the compound gates and called for him.
Renjiro froze for a mont.
He was technically still a trainee and had never once been summoned by the higher-ups; at most, he'd exchanged words with a few ordinary operatives.
Yet now they wanted him.
He followed quickly, mind racing with possibilities. What could this be about?
When he had agreed to join ANBU, it was for one reason: to grow stronger.
The "why" behind that strength was layered.
Perhaps Kakashi was the first and biggest reason, his rival who had always been ahead.
Restoring the Hatake clan's prestige ca second.
Carrying Sakumo's legacy, his idol's na, was the third.
He knew that only in ANBU would he face opponents strong enough to push him to the limits he needed.
It wasn't that ANBU disappeared during wars; they were simply redirected, operating through frontline command centers instead of the village.
And ANBU in warti ant the most dangerous kind of missions, exactly the kind Renjiro longed for.
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